❤︎ ໋𓈒 synopsis: You finally have the house in Cousins to yourself- or so you think. After hearing noise coming from Conrad's room- you stumble upon him doing something you clearly were not supposed to see. But for some reason, you can't look away, and neither can he.
❤︎ ໋𓈒 cw: smut, moaning, masturbation, male masturbation, male ejaculation, voyeurism, foul language.
After a summer of dealing with constant noise, partying and clutter, you finally had the house to yourself.
There was a calmness that seeped into your pores, radiating out through the grin that just would not leave your face. You flitted around aimlessly, feeling the beginning of fall breeze blowing through the open windows, listening to your favorite playlist on the TV speakers. You had spent too much time listening to Jeremiah blare Future so loud that it probably scared the fish out in the ocean. Jeremiah was on vacation with his guy friends, and Conrad was gone for the weekend at some sort of drab, boring conference. Isabel was living what seemed to be her best life in Paris, clearly soft launching some beautiful French man as her new beau. She had briefly been with both Conrad and Jeremiah, but neither worked out and you were happy to see her thriving, as one of her closest friends. You would sleep in the spare room (or in her bed) after many drunken nights spent on the beach, waking up to Jeremiah’s signature pancakes, the only good thing about him you thought.
There were a few good things about Conrad. He was exactly the type of brooding, smart, snarky man that you had let ruin your life time and time again. Apparently you had kissed him once, but the both of you were too drunk to actually remember any of the feelings associated with the moment. He made occasional flirtatious comments towards you, always drawing in a slew of completely false rumors that you two had slept together. You certainly were attracted to him, but it never felt like the right moment to act on it.
You headed upstairs to throw on your smallest bikini, realizing your summer tan was fading and feeling the urge to take advantage of the spectacular weather. After slipping into the periwinkle triangle top and thong bottom, you heard rustling coming from one of the rooms.
How could that be possible? You thought everyone was away this weekend, and it wasn’t like Cousins was particularly famous for having robberies in the middle of the day. You tip-toed closer to the sound and realized it was coming from Conrad’s room, through his door that had been left ajar.
You didn’t mind that Conrad was home, you figured he just forgot to mention he had come back from the conference early. It would be fun to ask him to join you on the beach, you thought.
You opened the door.
“Conr- OH FUCK!”
You covered your mouth in shock and pressed your body against the wall outside his room. When you peaked in, you were met with Conrad, boxers around his ankles, laying on his bed gripping his throbbing dick. A sight you were fully, and entirely unprepared for. He must have also thought no one was home. What do you even do now? Go apologize? Walk away and bury yourself head first in the sand?
While thinking of a plan- you started to hear noise again.
Soft, labored breaths coming from Conrad’s room. The bed creaking ever so slightly. You heard him spit in his hand.
Clearly, Conrad did not need an apology.
“Fuck,” you heard him moan quietly. That sound alone was enough to send shockwaves through your skin. The house was not cold, yet all of a sudden you could see your nipples piquing through your bikini top.
“Mmm,” he moaned slightly louder this time, as if he knew you were still out there, listening. A damp feeling beginning to grow between your thighs.
You poked your head around the doorway, met with a sight that felt more intimate than sex itself.
There was Conrad, completely naked. He was stroking himself pretty quickly, running his thumb over his tip, his breath hitching every time it passed over. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead ever so slightly. His glistening chest a sign that he had been at this for a while- maybe edging himself until he felt it was the right moment to let go. That seemed like a very Conrad thing to do.
He arched into his own touch, reaching his other hand down to cup his balls, earning a much louder groan from his ever-so-slighty parted lips.
He was a complete mess on his own bed- pleasuring himself and clearly loving every second of it. You could tell it wasn’t shameful for him, the way he was stroking his (unsurprisingly) large, cock. He was using the precum leaking from the tip, slicking up the base and starting to move his hand faster and faster. You had never looked at him like this before- studying his every move in this extremely vulnerable state. His eyes were shut intently, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was imagining to get himself all worked up like this.
Was he thinking about you in the pool after you had six margaritas and your bikini top was barely hanging on?
Was he thinking about the dress you wore out to dinner one night- tight, short and blue, cupping your ass and barely covering your muscular thighs?
Was he thinking about the time you forgot to lock the bathroom door and he walked in on you in the shower- his gaze lingering slightly before he apologized?
He opened his eyes and noticed you in the doorway.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you said breathlessly, starting to slink away.
“Don’t go,” the words a barely audible breathy moan.
You turned back, standing in the doorway in your miniature bikini, watching Conrad’s eyes drink in every curve you had. They were low, lidded. Nothing innocent or snarky about him in this moment, no. This was pure, unadulterated lust. You could tell he was undressing you in his mind, his eyes now trained on the thin of fabric of your bikini top pulled taut around your hard nipples.
You smirked, quickly flashing him watching as he came completely undone. He whined, his hand moving rapidly, expertly, bringing himself right to the edge as he gazed at every exposed inch of you in his doorway.
Conrad Fisher was jacking off not just to the thought of you, but to you standing right there in his door. You bit your lip, loving every second of seeing him like this, and hating the thought that you enjoyed it this much.
This was wrong, filthy, nasty and horny in a way you never saw yourself participating in. It was voyeuristic, watching one of your best friends writhe around naked on his own bed, cock dripping as he stared at you.
You did not fucking care about any of that in this moment.
He moaned out your name, throwing his head back but keeping his eyes on you. His legs shook, cock twitching in his hand as he spilled all onto his stomach. His chest heaved, his blushed cheeks a sign of his own exertion.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
You weren’t even expecting him to say anything. You had already turned around to leave without ever speaking of this again. You turned back, seeing a glint in his eyes and a smirk plastered across his face.
“Anytime,” you walked away, feeling maybe just as satisfied as Conrad.
one thing about conrad this episode was how much he liked it when people bragged about belly, like his face when gemma said "she saved my life on her first night" and he goes "is that right?" with that adoring smile, and he looked so smiley when they called her pretty, he just let her shine the entire dinner, while being so proud of her and falling in love with her all over again
