Rating:

Explicit

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Bad Buddy

Relationship:

Pat/Pran

Tags:

anal sex, banter, barebacking, creampie, established relationship

Stats:

Posted on:

2022-05-29

Words:

2,511

Pat is surely trying to win an award for being the most annoying boyfriend in the world. Still, Pran can’t help smiling when the tapping at his window comes again, and sets down his pink colored pencil.

The tapping becomes more insistent.

“What’s wrong with you?” Pran asks as soon as he opens the window. Of course, Pat immediately flings himself into his room and onto Pran, so they both fall to the floor with a thud. Pran would be concerned, but his parents aren’t home, so he just hits his boyfriend in the chest. “That could’ve hurt,” he scolds.

“But it didn’t, did it?” Pat says with a smile, running his fingers through Pran’s hair from where he’s still cradling his skull. “Because I saved you.”

“You attacked me.” Pran smacks him in the chest. “Idiot.”

“It’s not my fault.” Pat pouts. “We haven’t seen each other for hours. I missed you.”

It’s cheesy, it’s such a classic Pat line. And yet Pran is weak, and he knows it. “I missed you too,” he says, and leans up to kiss Pat on the mouth.

He’s still on the carpet of his bedroom floor, Pat hovering over him like he likes to be, caging him beneath his body, and he eagerly kisses Pran back. Pran had meant for it to be chaste and sweet, but clearly Pat has other plans as he slips his tongue inside Pran’s mouth, breathing heavier through his nose, deepening the kiss more and more by the second that he might as well be trying to climb into Pran’s body. It’s hot, being pinned down like this, but—

Pran breaks the kiss and shoves at Pat’s shoulder. “What are you doing? My bed is right there.”

“So?” Pat glances at the bed, then back to Pran. Pran sees the exact moment a mischievous glint flashes into his eyes. “We haven’t done it on the floor yet.”

Pran kicks him in the chest, catching Pat so off-guard he falls forward and then rolls off as Pran scrambles back up. “We’re not doing it on the floor,” Pran scolds. “Get up.”

“Why’d you have to kick me so hard?” Pat whines, clutching at his stomach. “Now I don’t know if I’ll feel good enough to have sex.”

“Get up,” Pran repeats, and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think there’s a force in this world that could possibly make you feel bad enough to not have sex.”

Pat pauses from where he’s exaggerating his injury, and tilts his head in thought. “That’s true,” he says. And then suddenly he’s on his feet again, clambering over Pran and forcing him down on his bed.

“Ah—Pat!” Pran says, hitting his arm, although this time it’s with less feeling or force than before and more out of habit. “Do you have to be so aggressive all the time?”

“Yes,” Pat replies primly, straddling Pran’s waist. He pokes Pran’s cheek. “Do you have to be so cute all the time?”

Pran rolls his eyes again. “Are we doing this or not? My parents are only going to be gone for so long.”

“We are,” Pat says, and begins taking his shirt off. “You know, I didn’t really think about it before, but fucking you in your childhood bedroom… I should’ve had this fantasy a long time ago.”

“Freak,” says Pran, but he’s discarding his clothes as well. “Take off your pants and kiss me.”

Pat obliges, his tongue back in Pran’s mouth while they wriggle off Pran’s pants too. Then they’re both in their underwear, making out on top of Pran’s checkered comforter, chests pressed together, legs tangled up with each other. Pran tugs on Pat’s hair and Pat moans into him, grinding his hips down. Pran gasps, a puff of air between them as he feels Pat’s erection pressed up against his waist.

“You’re so easy,” he says shakily as Pat pulls away. There’s some hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, and Pran tucks it back for him. “And a pervert.”

“I don’t see you complaining,” Pat says, slipping his hand under Pran’s boxers. He curls his fingers around Pran’s dick and Pran’s knees shake. Pat’s responding smirk is both hot and infuriating. Pran never thought he’d ever get this in this life, him and Pat so close together, Pat rearing to screw him into his bed. Pran arches into his touch, and Pat lets him go and yanks Pran’s boxers down.

“You too,” Pran says, scrambling for the waistband of Pat’s boxers. Once they’ve been tossed into the pile of their clothing, Pran assesses Pat naked in his bed, skin bright and yellow from the sunset and the lights in Pran’s room. He’s so beautiful, Pran can’t help but keep staring.

Pat nudges his knee. “Hey, are we doing this or what? How long are your parents even going to be out?”

“I don’t know,” Pran says, and fumbles to his bedside drawer where he knows a tub of Vaseline is. “They said they were going grocery shopping, but Mom usually likes to run other errands while she’s out.”

“Good,” Pat says, taking the Vaseline container from Pran. He starts coating his index and middle fingers with the gel. “Because I plan on making you come twice.”

“Why don’t you focus on making me come once?”

Pran eats his words in the next second; Pat has a shit-eating grin on his face as he slides one finger into Pran without warning. They had sex last night in Pran’s dorm so it’s not like he’s that tight, but Pat’s fingers are so long and thick that there’s still a burn, that the first time sends shivers of shock up Pran’s spine. Pran loses his mind over Pat’s single finger, shuddering and taking deep gulps of air as Pat thrusts into him, not giving him even a second to adjust. Then he squeezes his middle finger alongside, and Pran can’t help but curl his legs around Pat’s waist.

“Ah, fuck, Pat,” he groans. His cock is so hard against his stomach, leaking precome everywhere.

“You really do like it when it hurts, huh,” Pat says.

Pran tightens around his fingers at his words. “Not my fault you’re a baby when you bottom,” he says—and it’s not a real complaint, obviously, Pran loves opening Pat up gently, going slow, waiting for the go-ahead from Pat until he’s allowed to lose control. But Pran doesn’t need that. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

“Okay, big boy,” Pat says, and takes his fingers out. Pran clenches around the empty air, hungry for more.

Pat seems to be considering something before sticking his dick in.

“Condom?” he asks, after a moment.

Pran wants to whine, but it’s a fair point. “Are you asking if I have any, or if we should use one?”

“Both,” Pat says.

Leaning forward, Pran grabs Pat’s cock and guides it to where he wants it. “No,” he says, and presses the head against the rim of his hole. “And no.” He thrusts his hips down, so the tip of Pat’s cock catches inside of him.

Pat’s eyes flash black. In a second, he’s completed Pran’s movement, sliding his entire length inside that Pran can feel it in every inch of his body, in his blood and veins and bones. Pat’s dick is so overwhelmingly big that even though Pran has taken it so many times before, the feeling of him filling him up is still unbelievable. Pat moans in relief as he gets all the way inside him, propped up on his elbows. His hips start rocking immediately, not even giving Pran a moment to think before his cock lights him up from inside.

It’s not the first time they’ve fucked bare, but it still takes some time to get used to—especially since they know it could be a risk, if anything happens down the line. But every time, Pran is sure he will never want anyone like this, skin to skin, undoing him so exquisitely that he feels he’ll be turned inside out. They haven’t even been dating for a year, but now that Pran has him after years and years of pining and trying to forget him and then pining again, he doesn’t plan on ever letting Pat go. And he knows Pat’s the same.

Pat fucks him good, and fast, that Pran wraps his legs around his waist again, looks into Pat’s eyes, and commands, “Harder.”

“So demanding,” Pat says with a chuckle, but he does, brushing against Pran’s prostate again and again. It’s so good Pran’s a little light-headed, and Pat bends his head down to lick Pran’s shoulder. “You taste as good as you smell.”

“Psycho,” Pran says, and grabs Pat by the back of his head to kiss him again. Their tongues brush up against each other, licking and sucking desperately, as Pat pounds into him, hard enough that Pran loses focus on the kissing. His mouth hangs open beneath Pat’s as each thrust makes his fingers and toes tingle, and he grabs onto Pat’s shoulders, his back, scraping his nails down and moaning as Pat keeps going.

They’re so lost in each other that Pran loses track of time, neither one of them wanting to come first, not wanting to stop. So when they hear a door slam closed downstairs, they both freeze on the bed. Footsteps and the inevitable sounds of Pran’s parents’ voices drift through his bedroom door.

Pran tsks despite that his body and mind feel wrung out from Pat’s ruthless fucking. “Look, you took too long. Now they’re back.”

“You weren’t exactly rushing me,” Pat shoots back. “And we can still be quiet.”

“You? Being quiet?”

“Last I checked, you were making more noise than me,” Pat says. Then he smirks. “It shouldn’t be too hard.”

He covers Pran’s mouth with his hand the same time he starts going again, a combination of surprises that Pran nearly bites Pat’s palm in retaliation. But Pat doesn’t let up; there’s a challenge in his eyes now that says, can you be quiet? will you? Pran glares back: yes I can and yes I fucking will. He clenches around Pat’s dick and Pat grunts, barely a sound but still a reaction. Pran grins against his hand.

Pat fucks him like this, staring into each other’s eyes like a dare, bed rocking and lightly thudding against the wall with each movement. Pran gets his hand around his own dick and starts stroking fast, because as hot as this is, it’s only a matter of time before his parents come up to see what he’s doing. Pat seems to understand, too, as his thrusts get more erratic and punctuated, like he’s trying to ruin every inch of Pran’s insides before he comes. His hand over Pran’s mouth is practically pushing Pran into his pillow, pressing him down with his weight that Pran can’t move. It’s so hot—Pat’s relentless hips, his body pinning Pran into place, hard abs that Pran’s knuckles keep brushing against as he jerks himself off, that it’s only a matter of time before Pran’s coming, moaning behind Pat’s palm and spattering their stomachs.

Only seconds later and Pat is coming too, hiking Pran’s left leg up higher by the thigh with his free hand and pushing all the way inside, filling him, warm and slick. Pran clenches greedily, trying to get more inside him as Pat shudders through his orgasm, his dick still pulsing inside of Pran and his hand a shaky weight over his mouth. Pran wraps his arms around Pat’s shoulders and kisses his bicep as Pat winds down.

Eventually he pulls his head back, panting. He carefully takes his hand off of Pran and makes a face.

“Sorry,” he says. “I think I pressed too hard.”

“You didn’t,” Pran says, because he had liked it; but he can feel where the skin around his mouth feel tender, a little sore and surely red with the imprint of Pat’s hand. “At least my parents didn’t hear us.”

Pat exhales, although he doesn’t pull out. “I don’t want to leave,” he whines. “I wanna go again.”

“You need to go back to your house,” Pran says pointedly, tapping at Pat’s head. But he doesn’t try to wriggle out from under him either.

Pat collapses onto him and says into his skin, “Give me a second.”

Pran gives him thirty seconds before he suspects something is up. “Hey. You’re still inside of me.” He kind of is; Pat’s softened cock has slipped out a bit, but he really hasn’t moved, even though it’s surely more sensitive for him. Pran can feel a trickle of come start to leak out. “Pull out before you dirty my bedsheets.”

Pat lets out the biggest, fakest snore against Pran’s shoulder.

Pran gets his tissue box from his bedside and hits Pat in the head with it. “Clean me up,” he says. “And go. We can continue this later.”

Pat perks up at this. “Later? What does that mean?” He grins. “Are you going to sneak into my room for a change?”

Pran scoffs. “In your dreams. I meant when we get back to my dorm. Tomorrow.”

“What? That’s at least eighteen hours away,” Pat complains. He does take the tissues though, wiping at the come that’s seeped out before pulling out. “How about tonight? I still need to make you come again.”

“I know you do,” Pran says, grabbing Pat’s boxers from the floor. “You owe it to me. But not tonight.”

“Yes tonight.”

“No tonight.”

“You can’t stop me from sneaking over,” Pat says. “I bet you’re going to leave your window unlocked anyway.”

“I am not,” Pran says, even though he was mentally planning on doing exactly that.

Pat tugs his clothes on, getting rid of the view. Pran lies back in his bed, feeling well-fucked and gross in a good way; he’s been cleaned up well enough, but he likes enjoying the phantom feeling inside of him when they’re done. He takes a moment to watch Pat try (and fail) at fixing his hair, before getting off the bed and rearranging his bangs for him.

Pat smiles at him. “Are you going to say goodbye to me like this?” he says, looking Pran’s naked body up and down. “I might never leave if you do.”

He is insufferable. “Go,” Pran says, stepping away and starting to put his own clothes on. “You can pay me back tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Pat says, and pushes Pran’s curtains aside. He turns and grins. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

Pran finishes putting his shirt on. “I’m not leaving my window open.”

“You’re so cute when you lie.” Pat pinches Pran’s cheek. Pran tries to glare at him. “Goodbye kiss?”

Pran sighs, but it’s not a real one, and he pecks Pat on the mouth. He feels Pat smile against his lips.

“See you later, boyfriend,” Pat says, and climbs out the window, which Pran doesn’t latch shut until the next morning.