Ghostly Sins

"Oh fuck, Herman"

He didn't know how they got here. One minute, they were at work, barely making it through calls while Robert yapped away in their ear about teamwork and mutual respect. Then they were in the locker room, washing dirt and blood off their faces when the topic of last night's Survivor episode came up. And then they were in Chad's apartment, eating Thia food and having heated discussions about who was hiding the immunity idol. And then, just as the episode was wrapping up, he was kissing Herm. Hands gripping his cheeks, tounge shoved down his wet throat, sucking down his pathetic little whimpers.

And then Herm slung a leg over his thighs and sat down. And Chad had never felt so dizzy in his life. All the blood rushing from his head to dick. Pressing against his wet little ass as he squirmed and tangled long fingers into his hair. Tugging and nipping at Chad's lips. His own hands dropping from Herm's cheeks to his hips as he bucked up involuntarily. Seeking the friction that would make this all end too quickly.

"I'm sorry. Is it-am I too heavy or...I can't move-"

Herm wiggled. And Chad groaned. Biting his bottom lip, pulling on it as he gripped Herm's hips so tight, steam filled the room. His jeans soaked through. Herm still wearing that stupid suit. The gloves and Google's thankfully abandoned at the front door.

"No, no, don't...don't fucking move"

He couldn't catch his breath. Panting and squeezing his eyes shut as wet lips trailed down his neck. Hair tugged and head tilted to give Herm more room. His back arched uncomfortably as he bent down to suck a mark against Chad's rapidly beating pulse.

"Sorry. I'm big-tall. Very tall so there-there is a lot of me to fit-"

He shifted again. Thighs rocking, hips rolling. Grinding down against Chad's hard cock as his face filled with fear and shame. A familiar feeling washing over him.

"Oh fuck"

He moved his hands from Herm's hips to his waist. Pulling him into a bone crushing hug as he gripped wet fabric in tight fists and buried his burning hot face against his lean chest. Sobbing and moaning through it. Hips jerking. Underwear filled. Sticky and hot and messy.

And far too quickly.

Panting through the last few waves, gulping in air like a man deprived. Jaw tight, teeth grinding, and burning hot tears sqeezing out from behind his tightly sealed eyes.

"Did you just-"

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up"

Chad didn't look up. Didn't let go. Just kept holding Herm in place. Statuesque on his lap as he tried to bite back his embarrassment. Because he hadn't creamed his jeans like that since he was a teenager. Since he just discovered what it felt like to touch another human being. And now here he was, mid forties, shooting a load in his underwear because some wet twink sat on his lap for less than a minute.

It was gross.

It was humiliating.

It was-

"It's ok, it happens..."

Herms fingers were so gentle now. No longer tugging or pulling. Just brushing his hair back, trying to get at glimpse of his face. Read his expression and understand, truly understand, what just happened. What the shaking of the arms around him meant. What the heat below him meant. What the bucking and the moaning meant.

Because he knew, deep down, he knew, but he didn't know why Chad was so afraid of looking at him.

Because Herm wasn't grossed out by him. He didn't pity him or see him as weak. H didn't want to poke fun and he certainly didn't want to leave.

He was actually kind of...flattered.

So he combed his hair. Rested his cheek on the crown of his skull. Rubbed circles into his shoulderblades until Chad pulled back, sniffling and blushing. A deep red tinting olive skin as he cleared his throat, and finally looked up at him.

"If you ever tell anyone about this I'll fucking burn you alive, do you understand?"

The threat was empty.

But the sad, defeated look behind orange eyes was very real.

So Herm just nodded. Lifting two fingers to his lips and pretending to zip and lock them. Throwing the key over his shoulder as Chad just rolled his eyes. Trying to ignore the fond feeling brewing in his chest by flipping the lanky man back down onto his side of the couch, slipping to the floor and pressing knoobly knees apart. Cupping the slowly forming bulge behind yellow and blue latex in a warm palm. Watching how Herm's breath hitched, eyes widened, and fingers gripped his couch cushions tight. His fuzzy Egyptian cotton towel peaking out from between pale knuckles.

and finally, a bonus closeup of Ford: