𝐷𝑖𝑒𝑔𝑜 - 𝑏𝑜𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 ✰

Somehow you both came up with the bright idea of watching porn together for laughs. Which is how you ended up here curled together on his couch at 1 AM, laptops balanced on knees, some video playing that you found on a random site. "This is the worst acting I've ever seen." He says, his shoulder pressed against yours, his hand buried in a bag of chips. "She’s not even trying to make her moans sound realistic." He adds, you laugh and nod your head in agreement. "Right?" You say, breaking into another laugh. The girl on the video is indeed making sounds that resemble a dying cat, completely unconvincing. You look over at him with an evil grin on your face. The look that means you’re about to do something stupid. "Oh yeah, baby, fuck me harder." You mimic, pitching your voice up, breathy and ridiculous. "Oh god, your cock is so big, I've never felt anything like this-" You continue before laughing. Diego snorts and you dissolve into giggles, leaning against him, your head on his shoulder. The video continues, the guy now making equally absurd grunts, and you keep going, improvising, your voice getting more exaggerated with every comment."Oh yeah, right there!” You say, still laughing. “Don't stop, I'm gonna-" You start but then break off into a series of high-pitched squeals that sound nothing like actual pleasure, and Diego is laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach, tears in his eyes. "Stop!" He wheezes. "Oh my god, stop, I'm gonna piss myself-" He say’s. You sit up, and then decide to really sell the act. You turn to face him, your expression serious, and let out a long, drawn out moan, low at first, then building, breathy, theatrical, your eyes rolling back, your hand clutching your chest. "Oh Diego." You moan out, your voice dripping with fake ecstasy. "Oh god, Diego-“ You say, and then you stop. You noticed he wasn’t laughing anymore. He's staring at you, his mouth slightly open, his chest still. The chips are forgotten in his hand. His eyes are dark, they’re fixed on your mouth, your throat, the way your hand still rests on your chest. The silence stretches, heavy and electric. You can hear your own heartbeat, the stupid porn still playing, some fake slap of skin on skin. "Di?" You whisper, your voice back to normal, almost uncertain. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he looks away, fast, his face flushing red. "Sorry.." He mumbles, shifting on the couch. You don’t know why but you look down. His sweatpants are tented, the obvious shape of him straining against the fabric. Your brain stutters, catches, rewinds."Are you-" You start, then stop, your own face heating. "Don't." He says, his voice rough and full of embarrassment. "Fuck."You've known him for four years. You've never seen him like this, flustered, exposed, needy. Something hot and dangerous curls in your stomach, something that's been dormant, ignored, buried under years of friendship and proximity. "Diego." You say, your voice is lower than you intended, husky, and his eyes snap back to you, surprised by your tone. "What?" He mumbles. You don't answer just yet, instead you reach out, your hand hovering over his knee. He's warm through the fabric, tense, his muscle jumping under your touch. "You’re actually hard." You say, it’s not a question, it’s a statement. He lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the couch. “I can’t control it.” He whispers, he sounds like a kid who’s getting scolded for eating ice cream before dinner. “You saying my name like that.. turns me on.” He say’s, he looks at you and then looks away again.“Shit, I’m sorry that’s weird to say.” He adds almost immediately after. “I- I should go.” He say’s, moving the computer off his lap, already trying to get up. You grab his wrist and pull him back down. The video was still playing in the background but neither of you were paying attention to it anymore.