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He’s hard. Jack’s hard, and his dick is pressed right between Robby’s ass cheeks. When he realizes, he freezes. His brain finally catches up with reality, but before he can apologize and move away, Robby rolls his hips backwards.

A low moan rumbles through Jack. Cautiously, he pushes forward. It feels so good. The scrape of his boxers and Robby’s pajama pants provides a soft friction, but the materials are thin enough that he can still feel the heat of Robby through their clothes.

Robby pushes back again; Jack pushes forward.

This slow back and forth goes on for a few minutes before Jack snaps. He places a firm hand on the floor next to Robby’s head, and the other tight on his hip, keeping Robby’s hips tilted up just right for Jack to hump against like a wild animal.

Robby lies there and takes it. Biting his lip to muffle his needy whines and looking back at Jack with glazed-over eyes and beautiful pink cheeks smashed into the floor.

It doesn’t take long for Jack to cum, leaving what should be a humiliatingly large stain in his underwear, but he doesn’t care. He leans back on his knees, trying to catch his breath and bring his consciousness back inside his body.

In that time, Robby rolls over onto his back, exposing the large tent that’s formed in his pants. He moves to wiggle out from under Jack, presumably to take care of his own obvious problem, but Jack pins him down again with a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Robby looks up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. Jack’s own trace the desperate bob of Robby’s Adam’s Apple before darting back down to his covered hard-on.

Jack places a flat palm on Robby’s clothed dick. A small, pitiful sound breaks through Robby.

“Do it,” Jack demands.

Robby’s breath stutters, a little confused, but he catches on quickly. He plants his feet for leverage and bucks his hips, rubbing his hard dick against Jack’s unmoving, flat hand.

With each thrust, Robby loses more and more of his composure. Soon his face blooms into a radiant red, and the hold on his lip slips, releasing wanton moans into the air.

Jack is too recently spent to go again, but that doesn’t stop his dick from twitching in interest.

Robby orgasms so prettily. His moans echo through the room, and his blush has descended past the collar of his shirt. Jack resists the temptation to lift the hem and check how far down it goes.

“We good?” Jack asks. His palm is still hot from all Robby’s rubbing.

“Yeah.” Robby swallows. “We’re good.”

After that, they enter a silent agreement to get each other off. It starts slow, with little brushes here and there that turn into more humping and the occasional hand.

But they also have unspoken rules. No purposeful skin-to-skin, no getting naked, and no kissing.

They get close sometimes. Fingers brushing under lifted shift hems and heavy panting into each other’s mouths, but they never cross the line.

That is, until Jack gets home from class, pent up beyond belief.

It’s been a long week, and all Jack could think about during that dull-ass lecture was Robby’s pretty blissed-out face. And then when he walks into their dorm, there he is in nothing but his underwear, waiting for his leftovers to finish in the microwave.

Jack snaps. Before he can think, he’s shoving his jeans down to his knees, and Robby is bent over the counter, letting himself be humped in the middle of their kitchen with Jack’s hands enveloping his thin waist. Jack figures it’s not really breaking the rules, more bending, since he wouldn’t be touching Robby’s bare torso if he was properly dressed.

“I didn’t know you wore panties,” Jack huffs.

“I— I don’t.” Robby's arguing is undercut by his soft whimpers and the fact that Jack can see the tiny briefs cupping his ass. His cheeks bounce under the material with each of Jack’s thrusts.

Jack’s grip on Robby’s waist tightens, and is pace increases. It’s not long before a familiar wet puddle forms in his boxers.

The microwave is beeping somewhere far away, but Jack doesn’t give a shit. He’s too focused on placing Robby against the fridge. Jack cups his hands under Robby’s thighs and helps him grind against his stomach.

The briefs give Jack a nice outline of Robby’s dick. It’s nothing special. Jack could probably cover the whole thing with one fist; he imagines it leaving a trail over Robby’s thin stomach while Jack fucks him until he cries.

Robby’s little whines turn to moans, and for the first time, Jack is able to see that pretty pink blush crawl all the way down to his nipples. Fuck. Jack’s mouth waters; he wants to bite them so bad, but he can’t. That would definitely be against the rules.

Although… the way Robby is looking at him is already pushing it. Jack knows Robby wants to kiss him. If he did, Jack would shove his tongue so far down his throat that he’d be able to feel all of Robby’s pretty noises. But he doesn’t, and Jack isn’t about to be the one to knock down that barrier.

Robby cums in his little panties with his head tilted back, and goddamn it takes every bit of strength in Jack not to latch onto his neck.

Delicately, he places Robby’s shaking feet back on the ground.

“Thanks,” Jack says.

It takes Robby a moment to comprehend what Jack said. “Oh, yeah,” he says eventually. “Thank you too…”

Robby looks so dizzy. Jack wants to wrap him in his arms and hold him until his balance returns; he wants to bury them both beneath a blanket and pretend nothing else exists.