Parched Freak [Gay] (Garou x OC)

❦

To my best friend, Kiri.

Enjoy, you thirsty individual.

WARNING: Cracky/serious smut fanfic... And extreme thirsting over the male pectorals.

I do not own One Punch Man... Well, Kiri owns Garou's titties, but daz it.

❦

My eyes wander across the bar absentmindedly as I tried with all my might not to whip around and backhand the fuck out of the woman sitting next to me. Seriously, how does someone laugh like that? It's fucking horrendous - imagine a hyena getting ass-fucked. That's what she sounds like.

Anyway, enough of that, I have a goal in mind for tonight. I was just here to use the bathroom at first, but honestly, I deserve a damn break. After weeks of wandering around Japan, having no clue where in the fuck I am, and getting constant heartburn from surviving off of shitty vending machine snacks, I need to just relax for a little while. Treat myself to some observing.

I nearly choked on the water I was sipping on when my gaze came to a sudden halt. I tried not to stare, I really did, but...

God. Damn.

Them titties.

I'm not talking about normal ass, flimsy titties like the hyena next to me. I'm talking firm, meaty, titties. The kind of titties that are soft enough to squeeze with all my strength and hard enough to keep it's perfectly sculpted beauty.

Only very few men in this world possess this special gift from God.

I hastily set down my half-drunk glass of water and pull off my slightly torn bag from my back, setting it down on my lap. Cursing under my breath as I hurriedly dug through it, I pull out my pencil and my small, worn-out sketchbook. I set down the book and flip through pages of past Greek gods that were unknowingly drawn by me before finally finding a blank page.

Taking another long look over at my new victim, I turn back to the book in front of me and began working furiously. I already had most of his physique memorized from those two glances, even his weird-ass luscious hair, and that jawline-

I pause and wipe the back of my hand over my mouth before looking down at it, seeing a strange wetness and shine on my tanned skin.

Am I-... Am I drooling?

I stared at it a bit longer... Eh, whatever. Why am I acting like this is the first time this happened?

Wiping the drool off on my pant leg swiftly, I continued one of my best works in this book so far. Mistakes that were made were rare, the muscles that were bulging through the man's skin-tight shirt were the definition of perfection, and his titties... Damn, if only I could shove my face onto the page and motorboat them.

Nearly finished, I take another glance at the man. I mean, I didn't have to. At this point, his whole entire image was ingrained into my mind, body, and soul, but it's always a treat to have a moment to enjoy the subject of my creation in his purest form.

The only difference this time was that instead of looking away, the guy was staring straight at me.

I stare straight back for a long moment before I realized who I was staring at and who was staring at me so in a matter of seconds I pack up and I'm ready to go run the fuck away.

"Sir, you didn't pay for your water!"

In the midst of my speed-walking, I skid to a stop. Slowly turning around, I narrow my eyes at the bartender that yelled after me, "What?"