OPEN. | @fracturedpneuma
— ✻ to catch my muse masturbating
It had been a VERY stressful day of work and patrol, and it’s not that this was his usual go-to stress reliever, but a particular high adrenaline fight had happened and left Peter with the lingering side effects in his already heightened blood. Complete that with well intended praise from a random few who didn’t know about his tendencies and tight spandex, and you had a horny young college student rushing through changing and heading home to take care of his new problem. Peter felt bad at ignoring his dorm neighbor’s greetings but he had higher priorities; fumbling with the keys to unlock his door and flinging his backpack to the side once he was in, slamming the door closed and feeling finger’s fumble once more with the lock. It locked, right ? Right, now he had the freedom to flop onto his worn couch and wince with a soft hiss as he palmed himself through his jeans, a low groan at the back of his throat with the small ministrations. He makes himself more comfortable on the cushions before undoing his belt and zipper, slipping the pants just low enough to expose his boxer briefs.
He’s low on resource, and therefore uses his own spit to slick up his hand before he’s diving said hand under the thin cloth to grip himself in a firm stroke, a wavering whimper leaving his lip’s as he work’s himself over, until he suddenly hear’s his doorknob turn and someone enter with a question on their lips. Peter is YELPING and shooting up to hug his leg’s to his chest, doing his best to cover up his indecency. Didn’t anyone knock anymore ? !
“OH MY GOD, DUDE, WRONG HOME !!”
To say Stuart was tired was an understatement. Of course, the hipster is always tired thanks to his insomnia but today was a lot worse than what he is used to. His heightened senses didn’t help in the matter. The tiniest noises echoed loudly through his ears and he already knows that he will have a migraine pretty soon.
The werewolf was on his way home from his internship, it’s late and he is exhausted. All he wants is to fall into his cozy bed and sleep for a week ( though, he is pretty sure he won’t be able to fall asleep right away ). Once he reached ( what he thought was his ) door, he fumbled his keys out and tried to put them in the lock but they didn’t fit. Frowning, he wondered why. But the thought that this is the wrong door couldn’t cross his mind because thanks to his heightened senses, he already heard a whimpering coming from inside. Without another thought, he used the doorknob and the door opened.
The picture before him is definitely not what Stuart had pictured when he heard the whimpering. He thought someone was in danger. And while he is definitely not the hero-type, he wanted to know what is happening inside of “his” apartment. Blinking, his mouth fell agape and he needed a moment to realise what is happening in front of him. Only when the other brunet spoke to him, he snapped out of it and covered his eyes, taking a step back and outside the apartment.
❝ Sorry! Sorry, fuck! I am so sorry. I really am sorry... Uhm.. please uh.. continue or whatever. ❞ , slamming the door shut again, he looked around and saw that he really was at the wrong door. Stuart lives right next to this guy. Feeling his face heat up with embarrassment, he quickly made his way to his own apartment and dropped on the couch, rubbing his face. What a way to greet a new neighbor . . .
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