🚨RPF BELOW THE CUT. DLDR. 🚨
It’s way too late for Noah to be up, honestly. He needs to be up early for an interview, but sleep evades him. He’s always had trouble sleeping in hotel beds, but this goes beyond that. He’s staring at his phone, scrolling mindlessly like he tells his kids all the time not to do. Suddenly, he gets a notification.
Gerran Howell sent a voice note
His brow furrows. They’ve texted back and forth before, of course, but he’s never gotten a voice note from him before. He decides he’ll listen to it in the morning, since if there was a real emergency Gerran would have called him. The minutes tick by, nothing of much interest appearing on his feed. Then, maybe ten or so minutes later, another text from Gerran.
Gerran Howell: Oh my God please don’t listen to that
Gerran Howell: That wasn’t meant for you
Gerran Howell: I’m so sorry
Gerran Howell: It’s late and I just clicked the first Noah that came up in my contacts list
Gerran Howell: It won’t let me unsend it
Gerran Howell: I’m really sorry. Please don’t listen to it.
Now, Noah likes to think of himself as a good boss. A good person. But at the same time, he does not delude himself into believing he is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone slips up sometimes. For him, the slip up is more of a tumble down a rocky cliff, but nonetheless. He’s watched the edits, he’s seen the fanart. And in the back of his mind, he can’t help but imagine that it’s not Dennis and Robby, but rather himself and Gerran. What would it be like to kiss those pretty pink lips? Bury his face in that nest of blond curls? Wrap his hands around that little waist and squeeze?
He shouldn’t. It’s not right. But it’s not like he’ll know. It’s not like he’ll somehow understand the social crime that Noah’s about to commit. He grabs his headphones from the bedside table, quickly plugging them in. His thumb hesitates over the play button, knowing how inappropriate this is. He doesn’t care as much as he should.
At first, it’s silent. The rustling of sheets can faintly be heard in the background, and Noah’s mind immediately conjures an image of Gerran lying in bed, maybe wearing some oversized shirt and boxers. He takes a deep breath. The younger’s voice splits the silence.
“Y’know, I really thought you hated me, when we met at the club.” Interesting. He really hadn’t pegged Gerran as someone who went clubbing a lot, much less the type to hook up with people from there. The blond continues.
“My friend, the one with that stupid meatball shirt,” That’s absolutely Isa, “she made me go over to you after you bought me that drink.”
Noah vaguely wondered where this was going. What was the point of reaching out to a random hookup after midnight, especially if it had been a good deal of time since?
“It’s a bit dangerous, for me, hooking up with random guys. Especially in LA.” Oh, that was new. I mean, he had suspected, but that didn’t mean he knew for certain. Then again, he had said that he had clicked on the first contact named Noah, but nowadays it could be argued that it could be a gender neutral name. He had seen a movie not too long ago with the main character being a girl named Noah. If memory served, Sebastian Stan had been a very terrible boyfriend in it.
“I just… I dunno, you drew me in. You look… oh, this is horrible to admit…” Noah perks up immediately. Before, Gerran had been smoother, more confident. But he could practically hear the blush in his voice now.
“I wanted you so badly because…” there’s a long sigh “because you look like my boss.”
What the fuck. What. the fuck. This can’t be real. It shouldn’t be. He’s gonna wake up in the morning and this will all be a dream. But if it is, it’s a weirdly realistic one, and Gerran is still talking. So Noah keeps listening.
“Same name, too.” There’s a laugh in his voice. “I keep imagining us in that little dingy bathroom. I can’t believe I let you do that shit.”
Noah’s mind fills with even more filthy images. Gerran on his knees with a cock (his own) down his throat. The boy bent over the sink, desperate and gaping. He barely stifles a groan. There’s the sound of a zipper, and Noah shuts his eyes, his cock filling up.
“You felt so fucking good. I was… I was so full, you don’t understand. Felt you in my throat.” Gerran’s voice is just a bit breathy, and Noah cherishes it. Why couldn’t it have been him making the younger feel like that?
“I’ve been thinking about it so much. I can’t— I’ve never done something like that.” Something like what? It didn’t sound like it had been his first time with a man, so the question of what had happened in that bathroom tantalized Noah.
“But it felt so good. Just being a stupid puppy.” Oh, Jesus. Noah squeezes himself over his sweatpants, trying not to cum. Of course he had seen the comparisons online, but this was so different.
“Puppy— ah—“ If he listens hard, he can hear the sounds of Gerran pumping himself. He wishes more than anything that he could see it in person. “Puppies need direction, y’know? A-and I’ve been doing research. So many videos of puppies being good for their Daddies.”
They are going to find Noah’s dead body in the morning. Cause of death: Gerran Middlename Howell. He needs that boy in his bed, presenting like a real pup, whining for Daddy to fuck him full. He’d read so many fanfictions like this, ones of Dennis and Robby. It couldn’t compare to this.
“I want my Daddy, Noah. I want— oh, God!— I want my Daddy to fuck me, to give me everything. I want him so bad, please.” He sounds like he’s crying, and Noah nearly cums right there. He probably looks so pretty when he cries. Little hiccuped “Daddy!”s and sniffles and those big eyes wet with tears.
The voice message continues, with Gerran getting more and more desperate. He loses all sense, just babbling and begging and crying.
“‘m gonna cum, Noah, please! Please, Daddy, I need it, need you so bad, please, please!” It’s like a drug, hearing his name begged like that.
eugh this is bad but whateverrrr @puppiegracie
