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Camera Shy

Chapter Text

"Good evening, everyone."

Stephen toggled the settings on his webcam, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He watched his usual viewers log on, dropping all sorts of greetings in the chat. Shellhead69 was the first to appear, followed by dickterdoom, l4uf3ys0n, and darkestdimension1930. More and more chimed in, leaving everything from "hello gorgeous ;-)" to "i came here for tits wtf". Stephen chuckled airly. As soon as the webcam was on, he was in character.

"How're all my favorite little sinners doing tonight?" He purred, propping up his chin in his hands. He fluttered his eyelashes playfully. The viewers loved seeing his pale green eyes, coy and sharp. "Shellhead, it's been a while since you logged on, we missed you!"

The laptop chimed. A message relayed that a $100 pledge had been dropped by shellhead69. Stephen blew the camera a kiss, winking playfully.

"Aw you softie," He beamed. Leaning back, he let his crimson silk robe slip from one shoulder, exposing the jet black harness underneath. "You came on the perfect day, I'm wearing something special tonight."

Stephen didn't have to do all of this. He owned and taught at a very popular wellness clinic, alternating between a life coach and the studio's top yoga instructor. He made more than enough money to get by, funneling the excess into multiple charities and back into his own work. The cam shows were a hobby really, something he picked up by accident. There was something intimate about performing for an audience. He got to unwind and relax, play around and act as he pleased. 

The money still came in, however, despite his protests. Most of the viewers didn't send much, the occasional $10 here and there. Shellhead69 was the biggest spender, dropping from $100 to as high as $1500 per session. They never spoke, simply letting the login message speak for itself. They'd share that sweet cash, watch the show, and leave when it was done, never saying a word. There was an odd companionship, some sort of private connection that Stephen felt between him and shellhead69. It was probably all in his head, some far off fantasy of a lonely gay man.

"I wanna do something really nice for you guys tonight," Stephen crooned, pulling out a box of matches. "Something that'll have you squirming in your seats."

Stephen lit the candles around his bed, ducking out of frame to toss the used match. When he popped back in, his robe was gone. Endless planes of pale skin glinted in the low light. A round of messages popped up in the chat. His fans seemed to love the new look.

"Be nice and thank shellhead," Stephen slipped a thumb under one of the straps, snapping the material against his shoulder. "This whole outfit was bought on their dime."

A wave of thanks overwhelmed the chat log. It wasn't too surprising that the ensemble was an immediate favorite. Stephen's username was Dr.Strange, his aesthetic a play on witchcraft and the occult. He was a man of science and spiritually so some of it was genuine. He often burned incense, lit candles, and added imagery from his existing wardrobe to the mix. A little bit of drama was all that needed to be added.

"I know you didn't come here for a fashion show so let's get more comfortable, shall we?"

Stephen adjusted his webcam, crawling across his bed to lean back against the headboard. He spread his legs wide, running his hands up and down his inner thighs. He felt attractive like this, the pentagram-shaped harness accentuating his naturally slim form. The high waisted panties cut above his hips, giving him a slight curve where one didn't usually exist. Stockings that ended just above his knees made him look even taller than he already was. Black shone well against his complexion, emphasizing the smooth even tone of his porcelain skin.

"I hope we can all have an experience tonight." Stephen grinned wickedly, arching his back.

From his bedside drawer, he pulled out a new toy. It was a dildo, 7in long, purple, with a thick head and flared base. The shaft was lined with dozens of textured bumps that smoothed out as it came to the end. Stephen made a show of slowly pulling down his panties, flinging them off camera. He spread his legs wider, stroking a hand down his stomach to wind around his cock. Dragging his mouth down the shaft of the toy, he fiddled with the single barbell pierced just below the head of his dick.

"I'm thinking about getting another one," He sighed, thumbing his slit slick with precum. "And maybe a tongue piercing, I bet oral is on a whole other level with a stud in my mouth. Double entendre intended."

Stephen pulled the toy from his lips. He missed having things in his mouth. The fans seemed to love his deep baritone, however, so he often kept his mouth clear. Slicking the dildo with a generous amount of lube, he leaned back, teasing the rim of his ass with the head. He shuddered, letting a genuine moan fall from his lips. He hadn't done any prep work, wanting the first time to be caught on camera. After teasing himself and the audience for a good while, he applied more pressure. Slowly, gradually, he felt his body give until the head slipped in with a wet pop. He shuddered, raising his hips to show off the stretch.

"Ohhh fuck, it's so biiig," Stephen moaned, tracing the seam where skin met silicone. "Ahhhn-- it feels so fucking good."

He added a few more spurts of lube, rising from his seat to squat over the toy. Bracing his hands back against the headboard, Stephen slowly sank down the dildo, his jaw dropping as he was filled. It was his biggest toy thus far and the difference was astronomical. Halfway down, he bounced a bit, fucking himself shallowly. His breathing quickened as the toy disappeared inside him. When he reached the base, he stopped, his legs spread wide, his hands resting on his knees. He knew how good he looked, skin flushed, lips parted, smouldering behind a curtain of dark hair streaked with silver. Running his hands up and down his body, he rocked his hips, fucking himself on the toy as his cock bounced against his stomach.

"You like that?" Stephen purred, lifting two fingers to his mouth. He licked the bitter precum from his fingertips, making a show of just how far he could take them in. "You love watching me fuck myself, don't you? Love seeing me lose my fucking mind?"

With saliva slicked fingers, Stephen wrapped a hand around his cock. He stroked up and down his length, long fingers playing with his own hardness. The audience loved seeing him pleasure himself, loved the way he got so wet, leaking a steady stream of precum. 

"Too much," Stephen sighed, pulling his hand away to drape across his thigh. "I wanna cum just like this, fuck myself to orgasm."

Adjusting his footing, Stephen returned his grip to the headboard. He started slow, rising half an inch off the toy before sinking back down. He could feel every textured bump grinding inside him, sending waves of pleasure to dance up his spine. Swirling his hips, he gradually sped up, rising higher to drop lower. Everytime he reached the base, he could feel the head of the dildo press perfectly against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside. All his other toys barely hit that lewd button, the tips barely nudging on even the deepest thrust. Now, he could feel the dildo press snuggly against it, making his eyes roll back and his jaw drop.

"Ahn! Fuck! Ohhh fuck, that's so fucking good! Oh god, fuck me!"

Stephen slowed his pace but emphasized every thrust, pulling out all the way until the head was barely caught inside him. He sank down, taking the entire shaft every time. Messages pinged in the chat log, a chorus of horny praise. Stephen grinned, pushing his hair back to show his face. Framing his lips with his fingers, he sped up, fucking himself hard on the toy. He felt full and stretched, the dildo spreading him wide and filling him to the brim. It wasn't long before he was cumming. 

He gripped his cock, tugging it upwards so ribbons of pearlescent seed fell across his chest and stomach. Jerking himself off through orgasm, Stephen shuddered and groaned, the sounds escaping his lips erotic and sensual. He stopped his thrusts, holding himself halfway speared on the dildo. Slowly, as slowly as possible, moved to his knees, turning slightly to point his ass towards the camera. He reached back, gently pulling the rest of the toy out. It popped free with a slick noise, the rim of his stretched asshole twitching. He felt empty but satisfied. 

As he caught his breath, he heard the familiar chime of his audience logging off. He saw names disappear, their icons vanishing as they left positive feedback. It'd been a while since he'd had so many viewers. Instead of his usual flirty closing line, Stephen took a moment to clean himself up. He set the toy aside to be sanitized, wiping off the excess lube and seed from his skin. Fumbling around, he found his panties, slipping them on as he undid his harness. He'd made it too tight, leaving pentagram-shaped red marks on his skin. He cursed softly under his breath. Tomorrow's yoga class would have to be done in a t-shirt.

By the time he finished, pulling on his silk robe and tying it loosely around his waist, everyone had logged off.

All except one person.


shellhead69: pm me?


Stephen stared, blinking rapidly. His trembling fingers hovered over the keyboard. He turned off the webcam but left the window open, rereading the message over and over. It was the first time shellhead had said a word since he joined the audience months ago.

With a quick sharp inhale, Stephen clicked on their username and opened up the private messenger.


Dr.Strange: hey :-) what's up?


Stephen sat and waited. The reply took a while but made him flush a bright scarlet.


shellhead69: sorry i had to clean up, easily the best show so far, im glad i could help make such magic happen ;)


Stephen pressed his fingers to his lips. The incessant shake in his hands intensified. He had to retype his response over multiple times to fix every typo.


Dr.Strange: im glad i could make you proud ;-) how can i help you this fine evening?


shellhead69: i wanna take u out somewhere nice


shellhead69: not in a stalker kinda way, i think ur really cute and u seem intelligent from how u talk


shellhead69: im sure u get asked out all the time so its cool if u say no


shellhead69: ill leave u alone if u want me to


Swallowing thickly, Stephen took a deep shuddering breath. No one had asked him out before like this. He'd been messaged plenty for one-night stands, always men questioning their sexuality looking for a no strings attached compromise. He didn't trust the internet of course, always politely declining. This felt significantly more serious, like an actual date proposal. Tapping his fingertips against the keyboard, Stephen thought hard.


Dr.Strange: how can i trust you? the net is full of shady creeps and i dont wanna get hurt


shellhead69: how can i ease ur mind?


Stephen hung his head, wracking his brain. After a moment, he replied.


Dr.Strange: tell me more about yourself? i dont wanna go on a date if its just for sex


shellhead69: u wanna get to know me then? ;)


Stephen chuckled. He made a snap decision, hoping he wouldn't regret it later.


Dr.Strange: here's my number (XXX-XXX-XXXX) text me and we'll see where it goes from there


A moment later, Stephen's phone chimed. He flipped it open, chuckling under his breath.


Unknown: where shall we begin?

Chapter Text

Stephen woke up at 5:30am as he always did, groaning into the pillows. He ached like hell. Thankfully, it was Monday. None of his yoga students ever wanted intense stretches and positions on Mondays. He'd do only low energy sessions until tomorrow.

He could hear Wong moving around upstairs, no doubt having just got in from his nightshift at the library. Piping shuddered above Stephen's head. The shower roared to life. Rolling over, Stephen picked up his phone, amazed to find a string of messages waiting for him.


shellhead: im 38/m/bi, mixed italian-jewish


shellhead: also in nyc, i didnt stalk u it says ur also in nyc on ur profile


shellhead: i work in electronics, programming, building, etc


shellhead: in my free time i fix antique cars


shellhead: id love to take u out for a ride thru the countryside, hear u laugh and smile when i go too fast


shellhead: sorry that last message sounded creepy


Stephen laughed, suddenly feeling wide awake. He scrolled through the messages, reading them over and over. Instead of replying, he snapped his phone shut and crawled out of bed.

Ambling through the apartment's humble kitchen, Stephen fixed himself a cup of hot tea, putting two slices of bread into the toaster and pulling a cup of yoghurt from the fridge. He popped his daily painkillers, wincing as the dry texture caught in his throat. When the toast was done, he spread one slice with peanut butter and the other with cream cheese, adding a swirl of honey to both. The pipes shut off, the squeaking of the faucet echoing down the stairs. Out of habit, Stephen pulled out a small but deep set pot, filling it halfway with water to boil.

"Mornin'," Wong spoke up, shuffling across the tile. "Tea?"

"Right here, buddy." Stephen beamed.

He passed along the kettle, watching Wong fumble around for a mug. They existed in companionable silence. Stephen added two eggs to the water while Wong slowly peeled a banana.

"How was work?" Stephen asked, watching Wong take a bite. He moved with the pointed focus of someone who was mostly asleep.

"Usual," Wong replied. "Got yelled at by an old hag because we didn't have some specific book she wanted. I told her we could look for it at our other branch but she stomped off. I think she was trying to test us."

"Weird," Stephen snickered, trying to imagine Wong's calm stony demeanor in the face of a red-faced screeching woman. "How's Mordo?"

"I dunno," Wong shrugged, taking his mug in one hand. He sipped, unfazed by the burning temperature. "He's being... Distant."

"You better make a move before he entirely fucks off," Stephen warned, waggling his finger. "The window of opportunity is closing on you, Wong."

"Don't use my own advice against me, I'm not awake yet."

Laughing brightly, Stephen got together his lunch, throwing frozen smoothie cubes into his thermos. He rummaged around for some leftovers, finding a mostly uneaten container of pork teriyaki with rice and vegetables. When Wong didn't speak up, Stephen added it to his bag.

On the counter, his phone chimed.

"Whoa, who the hell is that?" Wong suddenly perked up, dark eyes shimmering with mischeif. "No one texts you, not even me."

"It's probably a client," Stephen replied hurriedly. "Maybe someone's canceling."


shellhead: what kinda food do u like? i feel like it's racist to assume asian cuisine


Me: hahaha :-) im on a bullshit diet right now but i love italian food actually, lotta carbs tho


shellhead: not to brag but i make a killer lasagne ;)


"Oh god, you found someone," Wong managed a small smile. Coming from him, it was practically a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Is it Thor? Or did he finally move on?"

"What? No, it's not Thor-- I don't like your tone by the way," Stephen snapped his phone shut, eyes wide. "We both moved on at the same time. Happily. When we broke up. It isn't Thor."

"Then who is it?"

The phone chimed again. Wong feigned disinterest, only to reach around and snatch up the device. He flipped it open, reading the most recent message.

"y are u even dieting? u look perfect already-- what the fuck, Stephen, who is this?"

"It's... A possible suitor," Stephen grabbed his phone back, snapping it shut and tucking it deep into the pocket of his pajama pants. "I'll update you if anything actually happens, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Wong acted nonchalant but was obviously intrigued. "I'm going back to bed. Don't do anything stupid."

"Me? Do something stupid? That's ridiculous."

Wong's laughter bounced off the walls as he headed up the stairs, disappearing into his room.


Stephen walked into Kamar-Taj Fitness right on time, making his way down the hall to the receptionist's desk. Clea offered him a tired smile, taking a long sip from her iced coffee.

"You look weirdly chipper this morning," She drawled, pillowing one cheek against her fist. "Get some good news?"

"Maybe," Stephen smiled mysteriously. "Rough weekend?"

"Yeah, you know how it is," Clea pushed up her glasses, rubbing at her eyes. Her usual purple lipstick was slightly smudged. "My uncle's being a total dick, as per usual."

"Remember-- Wong and I are a call away. We can make it look like an accident."

"Right, I'll get a crippled doctor and his anti-social friend to karate the hell outta my uncle. Excellent idea, Strange."

They shared a laugh as Clea logged him in. Their relationship was odd at times, as things usually were between exes. It was especially strained since Stephen came out almost immediately after they broke up. In hindsight, it wasn't his best move, but neither of them seemed hung up on it. Friendship came easy, as did the playful barbs and sarcasm between them.

"Alright, you're all good to go," Clea managed a smile that reached her eyes. "Remember you have a client at 11am and another at 2:30pm."

"Will do." Stephen offered her a playful salute before moving on to the studio.

The building had once housed a dance studio where, allegedly, local actors had rehearsed for the best showing of Swan Lake New York had ever seen. The owners went out of business though and it'd been bought by Stephen's mentor, a man only known as Mr.One. He'd moved back home to Tibet a long while ago, leaving his array of students to take the mantle in his stead. Stephen was one of many wellness clinicians on staff, taking the role of both instructor and physician. 

When he walked inside, backpack in one hand, he was amazed to find someone waiting for him. Clint was already warming up, his mat unrolled and waiting in front of him. He saw Stephen and offered him a wave and a smile.

"You're here early." Stephen asserted. 

"I got the day off," Clint replied, his grin growing wider. "Thought I'd head to my favorite place on time for once."

Stephen chuckled. Clint wasn't his best student but he was dedicated and that's all that mattered. His flirtatious tendencies and running commentary sometimes slowed the class down but he made up for it with his can-do attitude. Narrowing his eyes, Stephen felt a wave of suspicion cross his mind.

"You uh still on that diet?" He asked, slowly making his way over.

"Yeah. I'm fucking sick of the color green at this point."

"I getcha. Y'know what I miss? Italian food. Especially lasagne."

"Really?" Clint shrugged, tilting his head to the side. "I'm more of a Tex-Mex man myself. Love me a good enchilada."

Stephen pursed his lips. So much for that theory. He nodded once before excusing himself to go and change.


In the faculty bathroom, Stephen watched his half-naked reflection, twisting this way and that under the dim lights. The markings from his harness had almost faded completely now. He still opted for a t-shirt, just in case. Instead of dressing up, he dressed down, peeling off his pants to stand in his underwear. Long ago, he probably would've hated it, watching his body in such a clear reflection. Now, he admired his handiwork, the years of good diets and exercise. No one else gave him the confidence he needed. He made it himself and he was forever proud because of it.

Slipping on his shirt, Stephen stepped into his leggings. They hugged his calves nicely but hung baggy around his hips and groin, giving room for any stretch possible. Gathering up his things, he threw his bag into his locker and went to start class.


"Alright everyone, exhale, inhale, exhale, and relaaax."

Stephen watched as his class flopped onto their mats with a collective groan. He started off slow, still recovering from the ache in his ass, but steadily intensfied the routine as time ticked on. By the time they got to group meditation, everyone was shiny with sweat and breathing hard.

"I hope everyone is fully awake now," Stephen spoke up, earning a few laughs but mostly bitter grumblings. "I've got to go-- Matt, you're on clean up duty today with Maria. I hope you all have a great Monday!"

With that, Stephen bowed slightly at the waist and headed for the lockers. He wiped himself down, dragging any stray drops of sweat from his skin. A few swipes of deodorant and a daub of cologne at his neck (a gift from Thor) had him smelling like a king. Shedding off his yoga attire, he slipped into his clothes, a breathable shirt beneath a sports jacket and comfortable slacks. The clinic was right next door, connected to the yoga studio by a single short hall. He slid into his office for the day, having just enough time to read the client's file before they walked in.

"Hello? Dr.Strange?"

"Yes! Hello, Mr.Banner, how are you today?"

The man walked in, his posture pointed inwards. He had bags under the bags under his eyes and he seemed to constantly fidget. Taking the seat across from Stephen, he tucked his hands under his thighs and waited anxiously.

"What's brought you here today, Mr.Banner?" Stephen held up the file, scanning over it. "Seems like... Your insomnia and gastrointestinal issues. Alright, definitely not uncommon for a man your age. The stress of life tends to hit hard for men between 30-40 and your body often reacts to it. Can you describe to me a typical day for you?"

"I work a lot," Banner spoke like a sigh. He sounded exhausted. Stephen had half a mind to lend him the office for a power nap. "I'm a scientist so my hours are weird. Don't really get any square meals so I do a lot of snacking. Protein powder drinks and those diet bars don't really do it for me. I get five hours of sleep on a really good night."

Stephen tapped the manila folder against his lips. Many men and women struggled under the same dilemma.

"You need some structure in your life, Mr.Banner," Stephen smiled, warm and gentle. "I think a good first step is having some sort of ritual you do every day so you have a concrete activity to look forward to."

"What, like yoga?" Banner groaned, rolling his eyes.

"No no no," Stephen laughed brightly. "I can tell that isn't your thing. Maybe it could be a TV show that comes on at the same time every day. Maybe its a short nap, 45min tops. Maybe its a walk around a park. Something that suits your own likes and comfort zone."

Banner perked up slightly, already thinking hard. He blinked a few times, propping his chin up in his palm.

"What about reading?" He asked.

"If you're suffering from mental fatigue, I would say a soft no but hey, if reading a book you love for an hour is what roots you, I say do it."

Banner managed his first proper smile and Stephen's heart ached. He tried his best to remain professional but it was hard when most of his clients were so damn cute. Setting down his file, Stephen regarded the man in front of him.

"How do you feel about cars?"


"Yeah. You like cars?"

Banner narrowed his eyes, squinting behind his thick glasses.

"I guess they get me places?" He replied.

"No like. Interest? Not a fan of different models and tinkering, et cetera?"

"Nnno? Not really."

Stephen nodded a few times. Strike two.

"Alright, no problem. Let's discuss your diet."


At 5:00pm sharp, Stephen waved goodbye to Clea and made his way to his usual bus stop only five minutes away. While he waited for the next shuttle, he pulled out his phone. He'd been avoiding it all day. Now, a sense of fondness settled over his heart.


shellhead: ugh hate this fuckass meeting


shellhead: if it were up to me, id ban meetings, period


shellhead: u like shopping? for like clothes and stuff. i love buying suits which people tell me is weird


shellhead: i have no clue where u work i just realized lmao


shellhead: i bet ur a model, you have such a beautiful face, godly cheekbones. or i bet u work with kids, i can see u as being really good with kids, probs the hottest teacher in the school


shellhead: or maybe ur a garbageman, i dont give a fuck, all work is good work


shellhead: if u ever call me, i want u to kno i set ur ringtone as You Spin Me Round by Dead Or Alive


Stephen smirked. A flirt with great taste in music. 

The bus pulled up, stopping with a hydraulic hiss. Stephen scanned his bus pass, nodding to the driver before taking his seat. His phone chimed in his hand.


shellhead: mayb tell me some things about u?


Stephen pursed his lips. He wrote and rewrote his message before thumbing the send button.


Me: im 34, gay, 6'3", i went to med school, im allergic to pollen, i like long walks on the beach, and i grew up on a farm


shellhead: im immediately intrigued and probably a little bit smitten


Stephen's heart thumped hard in his chest. He stroked his thumb down the edge of his phone. It'd been a long time since someone had been so sweet on him. Shellhead seemed genuine so far. They were a day into chatting and he hadn't asked a single question related to sex. He was doing amazingly given the circumstance.


shellhead: mayb we can trade questions? u ask first


Stephen stared out the window, watching the late afternoon skyline of New York flash by. There were millions of questions to ask but he wanted to start things off on a high note. Inhaling sharply, it suddenly dawned on him.


Me: when did you realize you were bi?


Stephen waited. And waited. And waited.

Panic set in, making him grind his teeth. Had he crossed a line already? The man had seen him fuck himself on a variety of sex toys, a question about sexuality had to be a green zone. Just when he was about to apologize, the phone buzzed.


shellhead: i fell in love with one of my best friends. he smiled at me one day and i couldnt breathe and i had butterflies. i realized i was so far gone in that moment and embraced it. we were together for a while


shellhead: u?


Me: i dated this girl and realized one day that i was pretending the whole time. i decided to stop being someone i wasn't and worked to become who i truly was. i havent stopped ever since


shellhead: thats beautiful :) im happy for u


Stephen breathed slowly. The bus came to a halt, chiming a jovial tune. It was his stop. Rising from his seat, he gripped his phone and held it to his chest, right above his pounding heart.

There was no stopping now.

Chapter Text

"I see you're on your bullshit again."

Stephen blinked rapidly, looking up from his tablet. Wong stood at the front door, closing it with his hip as he offered his roommate a package. Stephen rose to claim it, flipping it over in his hands.

"Ah. Yes," Stephen cleared his throat, shaking the box gently. "Maybe I should be on door answering duty."

"Why? So you can continue to deny you're a total slut?"

Cheeks flushing, Stephen let out a nervous laugh. He knew Wong was fine with his cam gig, as long as he was out of the apartment when it happened. There was no disrespect, just playful ribbing. Still, at the back of his mind, doubt flourished. Wong was his best friend and one of the best people in his life in general. He'd hate to lose his respect over something so trivial.

"If you think any harder, you'll trip the smoke alarm." Wong droned, bending down to tie his shoes.

"Sorry, sorry," Stephen sat with a huff, drawing his silk robe around himself. It was blue, his second favorite color. "I just. Y'know. Worry."

"Yeah, I know," Wong smiled, standing up with a soft grunt. "You know I don't give a fuck, yeah? I don't care that you're gay, I don't care what you do. I only care if you're a good person and you are so. We're good. Right?"

"Right. Of course."

Rolling his eyes, Wong reached over to ruffle Stephen's hair. The younger man flushed brighter. Though they were only close friends, physical contact from Wong was non-existent. Any sentiment was saved for rare occasions.

"I'm gonna be back super late," Wong announced, shouldering his backpack and slapping on his nightguard cap. "So you might be gone when I get back. If I'm feeling nice, I'll get an extra order of pho for you. Maybe. Probably not."

"You get yours for free you cheapskate," Stephen laughed, throwing a pillow at him and missing entirely. "Make sure mine's spicy, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. 'Night, Stephen."

"'Night, Wong."

Waiting until the door clicked shut and the echo of footsteps subsided, Stephen made his way to the kitchen. Snatching up a pair of scissors, he got to work on his package. His name was printed in big letters just below the label for Bad Dragon. In hindsight, he should've scheduled the delivery for a later time to save face. Inside the box was another set of packages, two for his new toys and another that was clothing.

"Fucking finally," He muttered. "I ordered this a month ago."

Stephen ripped open the plastic, pulling out the article inside. One of his fans had name dropped the website Yandy to supply his lingerie needs. If anyone knew the after hours Dr.Strange, they knew he had a thing for fancy night wear.

Stephen held up the panty and bra set, watching it catch the light. He'd never owned a bra before, usually preferring only the bottoms with a harness. He got the smallest size possible and even then, he worried he wouldn't be able to fill it all in. The panties had straps on the side, no doubt to expose the sharp angles of his hips. The bra had a built in harness as well to clasp around his neck. Even if it fit a bit loose, he'd still look absolutely sinful regardless.

"Fucking christ, how much was that?"

Stephen yelped, shoving the lingerie back in the box. Wong peered around the corner, holding up his keys and shaking them for emphasis.

"Forgot these," He explained. "Now I'm leaving and none of this happened."

"Agreed." Stephen nodded, folding his hands behind his back.

Maybe next time he'd unbox in his room. Just to be safe.


Plopping down on the center of his bed, Stephen opened his second package. The lingerie fit about as well as he expected, the bottoms hugging his frame very nicely while the bra was a bit more awkward. He wasn't a big guy like Thor so, while the straps fit well, the cups themselves were pretty much empty. Not that he cared. He was flat and that was ok.

Ripping open the first Bad Dragon box, Stephen whistled lowly. He owned three different fleshlights but this was something else entirely. The almost alien color scheme-- black and red-- better suited his aesthetic. He traced the rim of its entrance with the pad of his finger. While being an entirely artificial material, the texture was pretty accurate. He cringed. It'd been so long since he'd had actual proper sex with an actual human being.

The second box was less impressive but still satisfactory. He caved in and ordered yet another dildo, this one pale blue with golden accents. It was curved dramatically, more akin to a tentacle than it was a human phallus.

Snapping open his laptop, Stephen let his hands hover over the keyboard, quaking slightly. He wanted to do a cam show, the last one having been the other day, but something held him back. He couldn't get shellhead69 out of his head. Would his admirer be watching? Would he like the performance? What did he even like about them in the first place? 

Why did Stephen even care? The shows were for his own satisfaction, not for anyone else's.

Shaking his head, Stephen quickly typed in his username and password. He pulled up the familiar window, turning on the chat function. Once he felt appropriately prepped and ready, he went live. In mere moments, shellhead69 was online, followed by the usual crowd. A few users voiced how delighted they were to get another show so soon. One or two made a comment about Stephen's seemingly limitless sex drive.

"Work is fucking me so I thought I might as well fuck myself," Stephen grinned, eyes glinting in the light of the screen. "I've got a new toy to show off as well."

Stephen went to pick between his two new additions, playfully shaking his ass for the camera. Something made him move towards the masturbator, drawn in the by the allure of a slick vice around his aching cock. Snatching it up, he also grabbed a bottle of lube, coconut flavored this time. It was time to have fun.

"How about we do a little Q&A?" Stephen purred, propping his laptop on a pile of pillows and settling on his knees. "We can have a nice little chat while you all imagine I'm fucking your sweet ass."

Dribbling a good amount of lube onto his cock, Stephen watched the chat log explode. Everyone seemed excited. Positioning the head of his dick against the toy's puckered entrance, he paused for dramatic effect. He could see his camera's display in one corner. The panties had been tugged to one side, allowing full access to his hard cock. The bra, while ill fitting, made him look slim and tall. His pupils were blown, his hair wild, his lips flushed.

He looked incredible.

"How's everyone been today?" Stephen groaned, slowly pushing his cock into the masturbator. It was tight, almost painfully so.


l4uf3ys0n: It's been a pretty standard Wednesday


dickterdoom: holy fuck you look so good like this


darkestdimension1930: id love to fuck you like that bb


furiousfap: yes nice yes yes


shellhead69: id bend over for you any day ;)


Stephen shuddered, bottoming out within the toy. He gripped it a bit tighter, feeling a pulse of arousal thrum through his cock. He drew out slightly, tilting his hips to better show off how smoothly he fit inside. As he pulled out, stopping when just the head was trapped on the rim, he heard the ping of a new pledge. $69 from shellhead69.


l4uf3ys0n: Oh look, it's Mr.MoneyBags


shellhead69: im just an art enthusiast enjoying a masterpiece ;) no hate


dickterdoom: lick ur tits


Stephen ignored the last message, slowly thrusting his way back down the toy's tight chamber. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the warm grip of a body around his shaft. His jaw dropped, eyes rolling back. He needed to get laid so badly.


shellhead69: fuck it slowly, dont rush


Stephen moaned out loud, sliding the toy up and down his length. He went a quarter the speed of his pounding heart, drawing out each tantalizing second. Every time he buried his entire cock within its sheath, his balls tapping against warm silicone, another spark of pleasure tingled deep within him. He was building a fantasy in the back of his mind, fucking nice and easy into the tight heat of his anonymous beau.


shellhead69: more lube, go a bit faster so you can hear yourself


Groping around, Stephen plucked up the bottle of lubricant. He popped it open with his teeth, oozing a hearty trickle down his shaft. This time, he thrusted a bit faster, pausing every time he bottomed out. The added slickness created a whole new layer of sensation. Thick wet sounds filled the air. Stephen caved in, giving the toy a few quick thrusts. He cried out, panting heavily. He hadn't been so hard in such a long time.


shellhead69: fuck it as hard as you can but dont cum


Stephen leaned onto one arm, giving the camera his profile. His body was on full display, every lean line of creamy pale skin completely unobstructed. Gripping the toy around the middle, he pounded into it with all that he had. It felt so good, almost tood good. His head swam, his breathing was harsh, every nerve was on fire and he didn't want it to ever stop. 

Stephen rocked his hips, making sure every thrust was punctuated by the wet slap of silicone against his groin. He could feel the body below him, smell the pheremones, taste the erotic bouquet in the air. He wanted to cum but he held back, thrusting deep into the toy and holding it there. He leaned back, hands spread atop the bedsheets. He looked absolutely debauched, his long cock bobbing with the weight of the toy.


shellhead69: hold it right there, tell us about ur day


"My r-roommate caught me earlier," Stephen spread his legs for the camera, fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin at the crease of his thighs. "Fo-found my package of sex toys. I almost opened it and got myself off right there in front of him, just to show how good they worked."

He was lying through his teeth of course. Wong was simply a close friend and his own sexuality was foggy at best. The chat seemed to love the idea however, immediately infatuated with the fantasy of exhibitionism.


l4uf3ys0n: You're a real slut aren't you?


dickterdoom: we should all cum ovr and watch u get off


darkestdimension1930: take turns fucking u <3


Stephen gasped, breathing hard. Something clicked inside him. He was suddenly reminded why he started camming in the first place.

He was an honest to god kinky son of a bitch.

Propping himself up with one arm, Stephen gripped the toy and fucked into at a truly destructive pace. Sweat beaded at his temples, curling down his high cheeks to catch in his goatee. He moaned and panted and whined, sighing on every thrust, on the verge of screaming. Every muscle in his body ached for release. With a cry, he hilted into the toy, unleashing wave after wave of hot cum. He fucked through his orgasm, drawing out every last drop until he was utterly spent.

A chorus of praise echoed from the chat log. Messages poured in, all eager to shower Stephen in lust fueled worship. Just as quickly, before he could even come down from the high, they all began to log off. Dr.Strange wasn't one for encores, especially not after a performance like that.

Wincing slightly, Stephen drew himself out of the toy, watching thick ribbons of cum dribble from its entrance. He set it aside to be cleaned later. As he made for the bathroom, eager for a shower, his phone chimed, buzzing against the wood of his bedside table. He snatched up it, letting out a shaky sigh.


shellhead: incredible. absolutely stunning. nothing but amazing


shellhead: im dying to know more about u


shellhead: coffee? my treat


Stephen typed with shaking fingers, not even bothering to fix his typos


Me: noit yett, i m not rre ady


shellhead: ok

Chapter Text

The pattern held up for a good while. 

Stephen went to work during the day, sceptical of any man that looked at him for more than a minute. He cammed at night, three to four times a week, just as he always did. Shellhead continued to message him, taking the reigns of most conversations. Stephen preferred it that way. The more he talked, the more it was clear he was a genuine human being who happened to be crushing on a cam boy.


shellhead: whats ur favorite color?


Me: red first, blue second, yellow third


shellhead: classic :) im a fan, i lov red and gold


shellhead: you have any hobbies?


Me: im casually into witchcraft actually


shellhead: no shit?


shellhead: im a man of science so i dont really get that stuff but im always open to learn


Me: its mostly wellbeing stuff. lighting candles, burning incense, finding comfort in harmony with nature and dabbling in the occult. i have a choker i wear almost all the time meant for protection and safe travel


shellhead: does it work? :)


Me: i havent been in another accident in years so yeah :-)


shellhead: another?


Panic closed it deathly claw around Stephen's heart. He snapped his phone shut, folding his hands in his lap. Outside, buildings whizzed by. It was darker than usual, the days growing shorter as the weather cooled. A distant part of Stephen's mind was eager for the leaves to change, leaving their heavenly accents of gold, bronze, and scarlet. 

His phone buzzed multiple times.


shellhead: hey its ok u dont have to share


shellhead: i was in an accident myself i understand


shellhead: gave me permanent chest damage and a bunch of mental problems. still cant handle seeing a humvee or bright explosions


shellhead: u there? i just wanna make sure ur ok i know how that panic feels


shellhead: my middle name is edward btw maybe ive got vampire blood to match ur witchyness


Stephen managed a soft laugh. The pressure on his chest lessened slightly, allowing him a deep breath. He stroked a finger down the screen of his phone.


Me: im fine. it means a lot that you would understand. most people dont really get it


shellhead: ptsd is hell man im sorry u have to deal with that


shellhead: but hey at least now u have someone who gets it yeah? :)


The bus lurched forward, screeching to a halt. It was Stephen's stop.

He gathered up his bag, wishing the driver a quiet goodnight as he stepped off. His apartment was less than ten minutes away but the fear that dwelled in his mind made him paranoid. He flipped open his phone, his thumb hovering over the keys. He pulled up Wong's number, only to scroll upward to shellhead's contact. It was 6:30pm. Maybe that was a bad time for a surprise call. Stephen shook his head and took the plunge.

Shellhead picked up after the second ring.


Stephen inhaled silently. His voice was smooth, like amber honey. That single word sent chills down his spine, making him eager for more.

"Hello. I uh. I'm sorry if this is a bad time?" Stephen stammered.

"Hahaha of course not! I've got nothing better to do. What's up?"

"Not much. Just walking home."

"From work I assume? Sounds like a convenient commute."

"No, I take the bus actually. Cars give me uh... Y'know."

"I getcha, I getcha. I hope you're bundled up tight, there's a real nasty windchill right now."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty well prepared."

Speaking came so easily, Stephen wondered if he already knew shellhead. His voice sounded vaguely familiar, like he'd heard him on TV. A thrilling jolt of excitement shot down his spine. It had to be impossible that shellhead was some sort of celebrity. He probably just had to have a very aesthetically pleasing voice.

"--I would've socked him in the jaw but that's not a really good business practice, y'know? Hello? You still there?

"Yes, sorry, I kinda. Blanked," Stephen slowed his pace, idling in front of the apartment's door. "I'm home so I gotta go but this was uh. It was nice."

"Yeah, it was. Feel free to call me whenever, I'm not really that busy all the time. I like hearing you talk."

"Oh. Hah wow uhm. The feeling's mutual."

"Hahaha okay well. Goodnight then!"

"Yeah, goodnight."

Stephen hung up, unlocking the door and stepping inside. He leaned against the doorframe, heart hammering in his chest. On the couch, Wong raised his head, turning down the volume on TV.

"You alright there, Strange?" He asked, brow quirked.

"... I need you to go on a date with me."


Stephen arrived at work the next morning with a massive headache lodged behind his eyes. He'd taken three extra painkillers before leaving the apartment but even then, the pain still lingered.

"Good mornin-- wow, you look like hell." Clea sat up straight, adjusting her glasses.

"What's that drink?" Stephen gestured to her thermos.

"... Irish coffee. Why?"

He grabbed the cup, sniffing it once before taking a hearty swig. Clea watched, unflinching. When he handed it back, she inched her chair closer to the counter, leaning in.

"What the fuck is going on with you, Strange?" She whispered.

"I have... A suitor," Stephen started, massaging his temples with trembling hands. "And it's stressing me the fuck out."

"It's that shellhead guy, huh?"


Abject horror and absolute shock shone on Stephen's face. He watched Clea with wide eyes. At his sides, his fists tightened hard enough to make his hands shake violently.

"... How do you know that name?" Stephen spoke in a voice like a deep dark pit.

"... Listen, that's not important--"

"Clea, I swear to fucking god."

"--ok ok," She inhaled deeply, looking either way down the hall as she lowered her voice. "I found you on that cam site by accident, I fucking swear. I was just... Looking for porn and your username popped up. I thought it was weird that someone was using your real name so I clicked and it was fucking you and it was weird and unexpected but I couldn't look away."

"... And you still keep up with my shows?"

"... Yes. I do."

"What's your username?"

"... darkestdimension1930."

Stephen closed his eyes, inhaling as deeply as he could. He held his breath for a few counts before exhaling slowly. When he opened his eyes, all signs of panic had been stuffed far back into the pit of his chest.

"Alright. So my three closest friends know I'm a cam whore," Stephen breathed in deeply a second time. Mindfulness meditation was a godsend. "That's. Perfectly fine."

"Three?" Clea narrowed her eyes.

"You, Wong, and Thor."

"Thor knows?"

"Yeah. He shares an account with his brother. It's... Weird but I don't question it."

"So... What's the deal with this guy anyways? How long has he even been y'know. Making a move?" Clea tried to change the subject, sipping from her thermos. "You look real fucking frazzled over it."

"It's been a month now and he's nice, Clea," Stephen groaned. "He's funny and genuine and romantic and I don't know how to handle it. Part of me is worried he wants to take me home, stab me, and fuck my corpse."

"... And the other part of you?"

Stephen buried his face in one hand, sighing softly. When he looked back up at her, his demeanor shifted. He looked vulnerable, his body language soft and open.

"The other part of me wants this to be real."

"So... Pursue it," Clea shrugged, her smile lopsided. "Meet him in a public place so you're safe. Keep an eye out for any funny business. Make sure you have a safety net."

"I know, I got all that," Stephen leaned heavily against the counter, pillowing his cheek against the cool surface. "I asked Wong to shadow me when we have our first date. He wants to take me out for coffee."

"Perfect!" Clea sat up straight, nearly jumping out of her chair. "That's an excellent idea, Steph, kudos to you."

"You think I should?" 

Sniffling slightly, Clea reached up, taking one of Stephen's hands in her own. His fingers shook against hers, scarred damaged skin standing out against manicured fingernails and mosturized palms. Her smile was fleeting, a variety of emotions battling on her face. Jealousy, regret, nostalgia, love, acceptance. She settled on a playful grin, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah. I do. I really do."





Me: hey are you up for coffee this saturday? any time is fine with me


It wasn't long before he got a reply.


shellhead: coffee sounds wonderful ;)

Chapter Text



It’s just coffee, Stephen repeated in his head. Chill the fuck out. It’s a simple drink in a simple café with a stranger who found you through porn. No problem.

Pacing around his room, Stephen decided the best course of action was to find any and every way to calm himself down and quiet the endless screams of panic at the back of his mind. He cleared off his bedside table and pulled out his favorite candles. Lighting each one, he dug around inside his closet until he located his witchcraft notebook. He found his favorite charcoal pencil and cursed under his breath.

“What the fuck kind of sigil do I make for romance…” He muttered.

After thinking hard for a while, he scrawled the characters for ‘love and luck’ in Mandarin, forming them into a square. Around the center, he rewrote the phrase, tracing a circle to circumscribe the initial characters. Laying a chunk of rose quartz atop the sigil, he turned back to his candles and bowed his heading.

“Aphrodite… Don’t fuck me over.” He prayed.

Stephen meditated for a few minutes, focusing more on his breathing than intent. When his heart rate calmed, he ripped the sigil out of his book and set it aflame, letting the handful of ash scatter around his room.

“This better fucking work.” He sighed and went to get dressed.


In hindsight, Stephen felt silly for sneaking a chunk of rose quartz into the pocket of his coat. He was overthinking and overwhelmed. Stroking his fingers up and down the crystal seemed to help him focus so he decided it was best to just keep it.

He and Wong rode the bus in silence, watching the other passengers with a shared air of judgment. Stephen wanted to find some way to thank his best friend but Wong had eclectic tastes. A simple box of chocolates or a gift card wouldn't do well. He'd have to devote some time for serious thinking later.

"Stephen. We're here."

Wong rose from his seat, flashing him a brief smile. Stephen followed, taking a deep breath. They hopped off the bus, watching it roll away. 

"Ok you go in first," Stephen pulled out his phone, pretending to look busy. "Get a drink or whatever, I'll repay you later. Then I'll go in. Deal?"

"You really need to chill the fuck out." Wong huffed, a playful grin gracing his lips.

He followed the instructions regardless, making his way into the shop. Stephen glanced up. He'd been to Sakaar Coffeehouse once or twice. They had excellent pastries and an enjoyably bizarre owner. He waited for a moment before ducking inside.

It wasn't terribly busy, a few patrons milling about here and there. Shellhead had proposed a perfect time. There was just enough background noise to fill in the silence without making private conversation impossible. Retro synth buzzed through the shop's speakers, pairing well with the casual 80's vibe.

Behind the counter, Stephen made eye contact with the dark-haired cashier. Pale blue eyes went wide. Loki blinked his eyes a few times before ducking into the back. A rather bored looking woman took his place, rolling her eyes as he bolted behind her.

"You know Loki?" She asked, drumming her fingers against the countertop.

"Yeah, more than I'd like to," Stephen chuckled, sidling up to the register. "I dated his older brother for a bit."

"You dated Thor?" She grinned, quirking her brow. "I didn't know he had a thing for goth guys."

"He likes anyone and everyone," Stephen beamed. "He's too likeable, it's inhuman."

"Finally someone agrees."

They shared a laugh. Her nametag read Valkyrie but that had to be a nickname. She looked like she could've been a warrior to some degree, with biceps that flexed under her tight shirt and a tired smile that spoke of a troubled past. She smelled faintly of alcohol but gave the vibe that she wasn't to be trifled with. Stephen could easily see them being fast friends.

"What'll it be then, Thor's ex?" She grinned.

"Just a mint tea please, no sugar." Stephen dug into his pocket, retrieving his wallet. Valkyrie waved her hand dismissively.

"Some guy in the corner told me to look out for you," She explained. She gestured towards the back of the shop with her thumb. "He's already paid. I suggest the fruit tart while you're here, they were just made last night."

"Oh. Well. Sure, I guess, why not."

Valkyrie grabbed him a tea bag, slipping into into a mug and adding a splash of hot water. She passed it over to him, moving to retrieve the pastry. As he took the plate, she leaned in close.

"He's a weird one, that guy. I'll keep an eye out, okay? Any friend of Thor's is a friend of mine."

Stephen broke out into a genuinely flustered smile, his cheeks growing warm. Valkyrie simply winked, rounding the counter to swipe up a broom. She shot him a knowing look, wiggling her eyebrows. Fast friends indeed.

Making his way to the corner seats, Stephen inhaled slowly. He could see a glimpse of messy brown hair peeking from behind one of the armchairs. He would meet his anonymous Prince Charming at last. He needed a good opening line, something witty and sharp.

"Here for a show, stranger?" Stephen crooned, stepping around the armchair to sit across the table.

"Depends-- are you willing to perform?"

Stephen fumbled, nearly dropping his things as he sat. His date shot forward, catching the mug and plate in two warm steady hands. He was gorgeous, almost illegally so, with a pretty mouth and sun-kissed skin. His hair was clearly styled with product, wild in the front and tamed at the back. His clothes looked expensive despite being a simple blazer atop a graphic tee and faded distressed jeans. Stephen was desperate to see his eyes, what beauty could shine within them, but he was wearing a pair of sunglasses tinted red and gold.

"You alright there?" He asked, grinning broadly. "I've been told I'm distractingly handsome but this is next level."

"It's good to know you're just as gorgeous as you are arrogant." Stephen shot back on instinct. His eyes went wide at his own choice of words but his date merely laughed, bright and happy.

"Damn! You wound me, fair witch," He smirked, pillowing his cheek against his knuckles. "I'm Anthony, by the way. It's... Pretty amazing to finally meet you."

"Stephen, and the pleasure is all mine."

He reached out by habit, cringing slightly when Anthony took his hand. If his map of scars bothered the other man, he didn't show it, simply giving it a firm shake partnered with a soft smile.

"So. Where to begin?" Anthony tilted his head to the side, crossing his legs.

"I think a good place to start is why." Stephen countered. He went for a sip of tea, accutely aware of his trembling hand.


"Why me? Why go to all this effort for some. Y'know. Random ass cam boy."

Anthony huffed a laugh through his nose. He paused to think, lifting up his own beverage to take a slow draw. Stephen could smell coffee and caramel across the table. When he finished, he set down the mug and offered him a delicate smile.

"There's something about you," Anthony started, one finger scratching at his chin. "Something I was immediately... Drawn in by. I've seen other cam shows-- duh, I'm a fucking hot-blooded Italian man, porn isn't exactly sacreligous in my book-- but the way you talk and the way you act... It's. It's genuine. It isn't something you do as a job. It's more like a hobby. That just really grabbed my attention I guess. I wanted to know why, I wanted to know more. Wanted to know what kind of person could this be behind such a surprisingly honest persona."

Stephen raised his eyebrows, soaking in his words. He nodded a few times, thinking hard between sips of tea.

"I'm a doctor actually," Stephen avoided eye contact. His past, no matter how vaguely he described it, still stirred up difficult feelings. "Well. I'm a doctor in that I'm still certified, I'm not... Practicing. I was a neurosurgeon. One of the best."

"That's what it is," Anthony beamed, much like an archaeologist who'd just stuck gold. "See, I knew you were fucking intelligent, you're a real smart cookie, huh?"

"You could say that," Stephen smirked. "But ah. I. I was in a nasty car accident that... Rendered my hands useless. So I can't. Surgery isn't. There's no--"

"I understand. It's okay, I get it."

Anthony held out his hand, palm facing upwards. There was hesitation and fear in Stephen's eyes. Before he could retrieve his hand, Stephen met him halfway. Anthony brought it a bit closer, examining his knuckles and fingers. The lines of scarred tissue had faded a bit over the years but still stood out like ugly cuts into his skin. On bad days, Stephen could feel every steel pin trapped between his bones and the heaviness that came with them. Delicately, lovingly, Anthony lifted his hand and pressed a whispering kiss to his knuckles. Stephen tried to swallow his gasp, only barely succeeding.

"I understand." Anthony muttered.

Rising in his seat, he twisted around, making sure no customers lingered nearby. Reaching down, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to his collar. For a moment, Stephen was distracted by the soft caramel skin on display, blanketing an impressively slim stomach and raised set of ribs. His eyes dragged upwards to his sternum. Set in the exact center of his chest was a jagged circular scar. It almost resembled a target, as bright as glowing red crosshairs. 

"I've had my share of accidents, too." Anthony's smile was discreet, the corners not quite lifted. There was pain hidden behind his lips.

They shared a quiet moment, both taking a long drink.

"Anyways," Anthony suddenly perked up, plopping down his mug with a little too much enthusiasm. "Life is hell and then we die. We're both adults, we know that by now."

Stephen laughed, loud and bright. It was refreshing to meet someone like Anthony, someone upfront and unwilling to hide. They shared a similar sense of humor, a trait distinctly important to Stephen.

They chatted for a good long while, talking about anything and everything. Anthony kept the drinks and snacks coming, refuting again and again that it was his treat. Stephen kept up the conversation between bites of croissants and sips of beverages he couldn't even exactly name. Hours passed by like fleeting seconds until Stephen's phone chimed, jarring in its volume.


Wong: They close in 5, wrap it up. The barista keeps giving me a look like she's gonna throw me out with her bare hands and I'm pretty sure she can.


Chuckling softly, Stephen tucked his phone away. Anthony seemed to sense the change in mood, gathering up his plate and silverware as he stood.

"This has been... Really lovely," Stephen beamed, idling by his armchair. "I haven't been on a date in ages so. It was just as nerve-racking as it was incredible."

"Hey, my pleasure," Anthony tipped his head forward, wiggling his eyebrows. He was surprisingly short, standing at least half a foot below Stephen. "I see it as a civil service to woo our hard working medical technicians."

They laughed as they walked, squeezing through the door together. Wong followed, clearly done with acting distant. Outside, the sky was dark. Clouds were gathering, fat and dark with the threat of rain.

"Would you like a ride?" Anthony offered, swinging a set of keys around his finger. "Wait-- I'm sorry. Cars. Right. I'll bid you farewell and goodnight here then."

He made a show of bowing deeply at the waist, offering the pair a playful grin. Stephen stepped closer, ducking his head to press a brief kiss to Anthony's cheek. The smaller man went bright red, his brow shooting up to his hairline. He spluttered a few sentence fragments before snapping his jaw shut entirely.

"Text me?" Stephen teased with a wink.

"Y-yeah, duh, of course, if I feel like it."

"I'm sure you will, Anthony."

With that, Stephen turned on his heel, hopping onto an idle bus. Wong followed, shooting Anthony his most intimidating frown. His silence spoke volumes.

If you hurt him, I'll make sure they never find your body ever again.

Anthony offered a weak wave, waiting for the bus to peel down the street before he made for his car. In his pocket, his phone buzzed.


Merlin: i had a wonderful time :-) we should do this again real soon. you free?


Anthony chuckled softly, editing the contact ID before he replied.


Me: whenever u r <3



That night, Stephen stripped down and let himself fantasize.

He chose a toy he felt would be accurate-- 5in, very thick-- and fucked himself until there were tears in his eyes. He tried every angle, his back up to the wall with his legs spread wide, on his hands and knees, flat against the sheets with his ass up high. He wrung two orgasms out of himself, pausing in between to catch his breath. He thought of lips against his own, hot hands dragging down his body, the soft slap of skin meeting skin. He fucked himself hard and dirty but his heart wanted it slow, vulnerable, open. 

At one point, Stephen smothered his face in his pillows, trying his best to muffle himself. The images floating through his mind were the epitome of vanilla but he was coming completely undone. Every moan pulled from his chest was sinful, desperate and high and airy. His thighs shook, his body wound up tight. He'd never been so wet before, dripping precum in thick rivulets down his cock. He fucked himself until he wanted to scream, his nerves set ablaze and left to smoulder.

When Stephen was done, boneless against the mattress, he nearly passed out then and there. It took serious effort to drag himself to the bathroom for a quick wash. Lube and seed and sweat made his skin shine. His lips were bruised and puffy from being bit down on so hard. His eyes were faintly red. He made contact with his reflection before burying his face in his hands.

"I'm fucked."