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All he can think about is how much better Robby is. Robby applies the perfect amount of suction and strokes his tongue over the length and head in a way that drives Jack wild. He doesn’t complain about Jack’s hands in his hair and moans when his dick hits the back of his throat.

Head from Robby is such a life-changing experience that one day, while Robby was away for class, Jack snatched a pair of his panties out of the hamper and jerked himself off with them to the memory.

Bless this girl; she is trying her best. It’s not her fault Jack has been spoiled by some professional homo cocksucker. He pulls her away gently.

“It’s not gonna happen tonight. I’ve been drinking too much, you know?” He’s had a can and a half of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

“Oh, uh—"

“Thanks, though.” He drags his jeans back up and heads back into the hall.

Fuck, this music is loud, and the whole place reeks to high heaven. Jack doesn’t need to be here any longer than he already has been. He leaves without saying goodbye and does his best to ignore his throbbing dick as he walks home. Maybe Robby will take care of it for him; it's not like he'll have anything better to do. There are only so many times he can reread those textbooks.

Jack's dick is straining against the zipper of his jeans when he reaches their dorm. He makes it five feet inside before he slams to a halt.

Robby is looking at him with big eyes accentuated by the bright red blush coloring his cheeks. His neck is pink too, and Jack bets his chest is too, but all he can see from this angle is Robby's smooth back and perky ass, which is halfway through swallowing some guy's cock.

In the half-second Jack has to process everything; he expects that Robby will throw himself to the other side of the room and attempt to cover himself and whoever the fuck this guy is in a desperate grasp at his dignity. But to Jack's horror, Robby plops down on the man's hips, taking him to the hilt like it's nothing.

"Uh..." Robby turns to face the guy beneath him, then back to Jack. "Get out?"

Gladly. Jack slams the door behind him. He leans against it to catch his breath and can hear Robby telling that guy not to worry about Jack. Something about that turns Jack's shock to anger. He stomps away and drags himself around the campus perimeter for a few laps.

Once his feet start to throb and his dick is soft, Jack checks his watch. He's been walking for an hour and a half; if they aren't done by now, Jack is going to pull Robby off that guy's dick himself.

Back at their dorm, the lights are off, and Robby is pretending to be asleep, but he's alone, so Jack decides to leave it.

The disgusting mess of a used condom is waiting for him on top of the bathroom trash. Anger flourishes in Jack's chest again. Robby's never ridden him. What makes that other loser so special? He looks back at the condom; it's not even that full.

Jack rolls his shoulders. Robby has never made him use a condom; he's quite happy to let Jack get him messy and feel his cum drip down his pretty thighs. That dumbass stranger has no idea how warm and tight Robby feels bare; he’s never felt Robby's needy walls beg to be filled and painted.

It takes Jack ages to fall asleep, and when he does, it isn't restful. He wakes up to the sound of the bathroom door closing. The shower starts to run, and Jack grimaces at the thought of Robby only just washing off the previous night.

But then he thinks about the condom and how Robby probably wasn't fully satisfied. He remembers all the pretty moans he's wrung out of Robby in the past and that he never got his orgasm last night. Jack reaches for the lube and starts a leisurely pace up and down his dick.

He's only just reached full hardness when Robby reappears from the bathroom, hair damp and a towel low on his hips. Robby takes one look at Jack, scoffs, and heads to the sink.

Jack lets go of his dick and wipes his hand clean on his sheets. He walks up behind Robby, catching his eye in the mirror's reflection.

"You're supposed to put a sock on the door or something."

Robby spits out his toothpaste. "My bad."

"Don't let it happen again."

"I'm allowed to get my dick sucked too." He sticks the toothbrush back in his mouth.

Not in their room. Not with some random fuck head Jack doesn’t know from Adam, a mere six feet from where he sleeps. Not in the same bed Jack has awakened this part of Robby in.

Jack undoes the knot in Robby's towel and lets it fall to the floor. His cute little ass is still pink from the shower. Jack takes both cheeks in his hands and spreads them; his irritation grows at Robby's lack of reaction. "I bet you're still loose."

"Probably," Robby mumbles. He spits again and rinses his mouth. With water dripping down his chin, he meets Jack's eye in the mirror. "He was bigger than you, so..."

Jaw clenched too tight to speak, Jack bullies his wet dick inside Robby's hole. This time, Robby does react, tilting his head back with a low moan. Jack immediately starts hammering his hips in the hopes of turning it into those pretty whines he's heard before.

"This is what you need," Jack babbles. "Fucked and filled, you fucking queer."

Instead of sweet noises, Robby cackles then mutters something Jack can't hear.

"What was that?"

Robby's face has started to blush, but the allure of it doesn't do anything to weaken the stab of his sneer reflected at Jack. "You think you're so much better than me."

Jack digs his nails into Robby's hips; he's practically grabbing the bone. "I never said that."

"Straighter," Robby corrects. "You think you're straighter than me."

Now it's Jack's turn to laugh. "Well, I'm not the one getting fucked in the ass."

"No," Robby agrees. "But you're the one doing all the work."

"Looked like you were doing the work last night."

Robby looks over his shoulder. Stunning brown eyes bore into Jack. "But not for you."

Jack snaps his hips so hard Robby has to catch himself before his head hits the mirror, a foggy handprint smears across the glass.

Another mean-spirited laugh breaks through Robby. The next thing Jack feels is a forceful elbow smashing into his ribs. Shit. He didn't know Robby had that in him. Jack stumbles back, red, angry cock dribbling pre cum onto the floor between his feet.

"What the fuck was that for?"

Robby doesn't answer. Instead, he perches himself on the sink counter and starts to stroke his dick. Jack admires how easily it fits in his palm; Robby barely has to move his wrist to pump the whole thing. If Jack were as gay as Robby claims he is, he'd take the whole thing in his watering mouth with ease and use his tongue to play with it.

"You want to be in my ass so bad, you're gonna earn it," Robby taunts.

Jack grinds his teeth. "How?"

One corner of Robby's mouth quirks upward. "Kiss me."

Jack takes a step back and squeezes the base of his throbbing dick. "Man, you really are gay."

"If you're not, it won't matter," Robby says. "Come on. Do you really want to have to hump your teddy bear?"

Jack doesn't have a teddy bear, but that's beside the point. He needs to leak out of Robby the way that man was denied last night. Slowly, he steps forward.

"That's it," Robby encourages. "Come on, straight boy, prove you don't like it. Prove I'm just a hole."

Jack leans in, Robby's pretty lips only centimeters away, their breath mixes together in a hot, tempting atmosphere. They're so close. Robby's blush envelopes his entire line of sight.

Except on corner.

In his periphery, Jack catches his reflection. He can barely see himself with how close he is to Robby; they're practically melting together, but what he can see is excruciatingly gay.

He can't do it. Jack turns his head at the last moment and sinks his teeth into Robby's shoulder.

As soon as he does, Robby cums. Spraying desperate white lines across Jack's naked abdomen.

Only when Robby's quivering slows and his release begins to drip onto Jack's still hard cock does Jack release his teeth from Robby's flesh.

Panting, eyes glassy, and skin flushed, Robby stares at him. "Well," he says. "You best go take care of that."

He would never dare tell Jack how his hand always finds its way into his pants- or how he wraps his long, slender fingers around his length with a muffled little sound.

The thought alone of Jack's disgusted look on his face should turn him off from rutting his hips into his fist, but somehow it doesn't. Somehow it only makes him take deeper breaths of the perfect smell surrounding his face and thrust into his hand a little faster.

Pathetic little whimpers, followed by wanton moans, leave Michael's lips and are instantly swallowed by the thick fabric in his hands. A thick fabric that had heard so much more than Michael wanted it to.

The thought of a set of familiar thick fingers wrapping around his length instead of his own was what sent him over the edge. As they always did.

Cleaning up was as shameful as always. Michael was shaking from a mixture of the orgasm's echo and the unfulfilled wish of Jack being there to witness it- to be the one causing it.

But that would never come true.

So instead, Michael cleaned himself up, tossed his boxers in the wash and grabbed one of Jack's. Instead, Michael laid down in his best friend's bed and closed his eyes, face still buried in that same sweater, wishing for it to be replaced by the real thing.