Another first day

Ch.11.Red.Handed.

I open his door happily, pausing in the doorway, my eyes shooting wide at the sight in front of me. Leon, shirt trapped between his teeth, abs and chest on display, brows pulled tight together, pants pulled down over his hips, hand fisting his dick. "Oh fuck-"

"Nngh! Shit! God, close that damn door!" He flings his blanket over his lap, but it's no use, I've already seen it, and god was it good.

"Oh, my god. I'm sorry, uh, I'll go-!" I try to escape, to go close my eyes and try to commit the heavenly image to memory, and also to get myself away from this terribly awkward situation. He sighs loudly, moving around under the blanket, shimmying his pants up over his hips.

"Just- Just let me grab my damn sheets." The low tone of his voice nearly sends me to my knees, thoughts of him using that raspy inflection to whisper dirty things to me invading my already cloudy mind. He stands, his erection outlined in his sweats. Jesus, he's big.

"Are you sure? We can wait a little while since you're... busy" He gives me a look, quietly urging me to shut the hell up, though the effect is dampened by his blush, spread up to the tips of his ears. He tears his sheets off his bed, balling them up, tossing them to the bare mattress to grab his pillow, yanking the sheet off and adding it to the pile.

" 's fine, don't worry about it." I eye the wet spot on his shirt, the shape of his teeth soaked into the fabric, swallowing thickly at the thought of helping him finish up. I surely wouldn't mind, if he asked, but he won't, he'd rather walk around with a painfully obvious tent in his pants. It probably is painful, with how flushed it was he was probably about to cum when I came in. I feel bad, he's embarrassed, and for good reason, I can't imagine getting caught doing something like that, let alone by someone I want. "Ready?" I nod lightly, reaching behind me to open his door, trying my best to keep my eyes off his dick. It was nice, length and thickness, red and leaky. Shit, I need to stop thinking about it.

He follows me out of his room, closing the door behind himself, holding his wad of sheets in front of him. I don't know what to say to him, how to ease the suffocating tension that's fallen over us, other than to finish him off myself and call it even. The laundry room is downstairs, end of the hall, same spot as the upstairs common room. It's small, two washers and two dryers for all the west barracks residents to share. You'd think with the amount we're going to be getting paid they'd at least give us some proper amenities during our stay here, but I guess not, since we're basically just dogs to them, here to work until we die.

"So... Do you want some uh... Privacy... For a while?" I shove my sheets into the washer with his, there's more than enough room, and I catch myself looking down, eyeing his dick, before I grab the detergent, measuring it out while he watches, leaning in a dizzyingly hot way against the side of the machine, looking down at me with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. I should shut the fuck up, pretend it never happened. He's probably aching right now, and I just keep drawing attention to it.

"No, not unless you do. I'm fine." He shrugs, turning to lean his hand on the washer, closing the lid with his free hand, turning the dial to "Bulky", turning the thing on. The blush hasn't gone away, he's still red all the way down his neck, up to the tips of his ears. It would be cute, if I didn't feel so damn bad. In my defense, I couldn't have known, I thought he was stripping his bed and coming back to me, not stripping in his bed and fisting his dick in the hottest way imaginable. He's gotta take care of himself, if only to ease my mind.

"I was gonna check in on Chris, if you wanted to come?" He's going to reject my offer, I know it. His face pinches as soon as our friend's name escapes my lips. I almost laugh. I know he doesn't hate him as much as he'd like me to believe.

"Yeah, I'll pass." He holds the door open, allowing me to pass through, following me the few doors down the hall until we stand in front of Chris' room. "You can come back to my room, once you're finished, if you want." He pushes his hair back, a nervous thing I've picked up on, something he does when he's uncomfortable.