⚠️ Author's Note:
They cross the line, fully.
Ishaan rides. Vikram ruins. And neither of them can pretend anymore.
This is not just about release. It's about who they're becoming.
(Note: The characters now wear new names, Ishaan and Vikram. But the tension, the heat, the fall? Still exactly the same.)
________________________________________
That night, the silence between them was thick with what hadn't been said.
They hadn't kissed.
They hadn't fucked.
They hadn't talked about what it meant to lick your best friend's hole in broad daylight like you owned it.
But the tension in the air?
That was loud.
They lay in separate beds. Ishaan in one room, Vikram in the other.
It was past 1AM. The Airbnb was quiet. The only sound was the ceiling fan above, chopping at the air like a slow heartbeat.
Ishaan lay shirtless, on his back, staring at the ceiling. His cock was hard. Aching. He hadn't even touched it yet -- just remembering Vikram's tongue inside him, the slaps on his ass, the weight of being used. His briefs were soaked. His thighs twitched.
His fingers drifted down. Not just to his cock, but lower. Slower.
They stopped at the edge of his hole.
No.
No fucking way.
But his body didn't care what his brain said. Not anymore.
He pressed a fingertip against it. Just testing.
It twitched.
He moaned.
His face flushed hot.
What was happening to him?
He'd never done this with girls. He'd always been the one in control. He fucked. He got blowjobs. He left the marks.
But now?
He was the one moaning. Gagging. Spreading.
Letting it happen.
And the worst part?
He wanted it to happen again.
What the fuck has Vikram done to me?
That quiet, calm bastard. Not even aggressive. Not violent. Just... sure. Focused. Strong.
He hadn't forced anything. But the moment he touched Ishaan's ass, it was over.
He'd eaten him like a slut. Spanked him like he owned him.
And now, Ishaan was lying in bed wanting more. Wanting to be broken open. To be used.
To be ruined.
His cock throbbed.
The memory of Vikram's cock in his mouth made him shiver. Thick. Heavy. Too big for him. But he'd taken it. Gagged on it. Moaned for it.
Now he wanted to go deeper.
He wanted to earn that cock.
To be trained.
And maybe--fuck--maybe even be fucked.
The thought made his breath hitch.
Could I even take him? That thing? That thick cock?
What if it tears me in half?
What if I beg for more?
Ishaan shoved his face into the pillow and groaned.
He was losing his mind.
________________________________________
Neither of them got much sleep. The villa stayed silent, thick with denial and arousal. In the morning, Vikram woke up hard.
It wasn't like the usual morning wood -- lazy, half-forgotten.
This was urgent. Full. Angry. His cock was throbbing under the sheet like it needed to be inside something right now.
He remembered the feel of Ishaan's ass in his hands. The smoothness. The way it opened for him. The way Ishaan whimpered when he spat on it, when he licked it, when he slapped it red.
And that mouth...
That fucking mouth.
Vikram clenched his fist around his cock through the sheet and exhaled.
What the hell was he doing?
He'd never fucked anyone. Barely done anything. A couple handjobs from nervous girls back in second year. Some kisses, nothing serious. Never even felt this turned on.
But with Ishaan?
It was different.
It wasn't about gender. It wasn't even about attraction the way he used to think about it. He didn't find other guys hot. Not once had he checked out a dude in college. He liked girls. Still did.
But Ishaan?
He was different.
Stronger than anyone Vikram had been with. Tougher. Sharper. And still, he melted beneath him. Took it. Craved it. Begged for it.
That was the drug.
Not the hole.
Not the body.
But the power.
The ability to make someone like Ishaan -- cocky, confident, alpha-as-fuck Ishaan -- choke on him, open for him, squirm under his tongue.
And Vikram wanted more.
More noise. More submission. More control.
He didn't just want to fuck Ishaan. He wanted to ruin him.
Take him to the edge.
Keep him there.
See what would break first -- his hole or his pride.
And that scared him.
Because he liked Ishaan.
He wasn't some random hookup. He was his best friend. His person.
But if Vikram let himself think too hard about that, he'd never touch him again.
So he didn't.
He stepped into Ishaan's room.
Shorts tented. Breathing heavy.
Ishaan stirred under the blanket.
"Vik?"
Vikram didn't answer.
He just grabbed the blanket and yanked it down.
Ishaan's briefs were soaked. His cock stood straight up, leaking at the tip.
His lips parted when he saw Vikram's face.
"Vik--"
But Vikram was already on him.
He climbed onto the bed, straddled Ishaan's chest, and pulled his cock out.
"Open your mouth."
Ishaan opened. No hesitation.
Vikram shoved it in.
No warning. No teasing. Just took the moment and claimed it.
Ishaan gagged immediately. His throat wasn't ready. His eyes went wide, watering.
But he didn't stop him.
His hands gripped Vikram's thighs.
His mouth took it.
"Good boy," Vikram growled.
"That's it. Get used to it."
Ishaan moaned around him, spit bubbling out from the corners. His throat spasmed.
Vikram pulled back, let him breathe, then shoved in again.
Faster. Deeper. Meaner.
He grunted as he watched Ishaan choke.
Watched his lashes flutter. Watched tears spill down his face.
But Ishaan kept trying.
His lips sealed tighter. His tongue worked harder. He was learning.
"You're getting better," Vikram murmured, voice ragged.
"But you're still not ready to take all of it, are you?"
Ishaan shook his head, cock pressed against his belly, drool running down his chin.
"Good. We'll train that throat later."
He pulled out -- with a wet pop -- and grabbed Ishaan's face in one hand.
"Now kiss me."
Ishaan gasped for air.
Then Vikram slammed their mouths together.
It wasn't sweet.
It wasn't romantic.
It was raw.
Messy.
Tongue and spit and teeth.
Vikram bit his bottom lip. Sucked his tongue. Held his jaw like it belonged to him.
Ishaan moaned into it, hips rolling up against Vikram's weight.
Vikram kissed him harder -- shoved him into the mattress, ground their bodies together.
Their hips pressed tight.
Ishaan gasped when he felt it -- the full weight of Vikram's cock pressing down against his own.
It wasn't just hard. It was heavy. Thicker. Longer.
It made Ishaan feel... smaller. More open. Like his cock didn't even belong in the same league.
The kiss turned savage. Tongues fighting. Breath panting.
Vikram bit his bottom lip again. Sucked it. Then bit it harder.
Ishaan whimpered. And moaned. And pushed back up into it like a goddamn slut.
Then Vikram broke the kiss and started trailing his mouth lower.
He kissed along Ishaan's jaw. His throat. Bit down on his collarbone and sucked.
A fresh hickey bloomed.
Ishaan's hands clutched the sheets. His cock jumped between them.
Then Vikram kept moving -- down his chest, his stomach -- leaving a trail of wet bites and kisses.
When he got to Ishaan's thighs, he pulled them apart.
Wide.
He stared at the skin for a second, then leaned in and bit deep into the soft inside of Ishaan's right thigh.
Ishaan cried out. "F-fuck--"
The pain was sharp, stinging.
But the heat that followed made his asshole twitch.
And he knew Vikram noticed.
Because Vikram looked up, eyes dark and gleaming, then ran his thumb between Ishaan's cheeks and dragged it across the cleft.
Ishaan couldn't breathe.
Vikram didn't ask. He just turned him over.
Hands firm. Movements sure.
And suddenly -- Ishaan was bent over the mattress again.
Second time.
Same position.
Same boy.
He felt the air hit his hole -- bare, exposed, needy.
And in that moment, something inside him cracked.
This wasn't random.
Once could be forgotten. Brushed off. Blamed on Goa.
But twice?
Twice was a choice.
A pattern.
Something real.
He pressed his forehead into the sheets and whispered, "Fuck me."
He didn't even realize he'd said it.
Vikram didn't answer.
He just bent down and spread Ishaan's cheeks.
And stared.
The hole was already twitching. Soft pink. Slightly open. Like it was remembering what it had been given yesterday and begging for more.
Vikram leaned in and sucked hard -- right on the curve of Ishaan's left ass cheek.
Ishaan yelped. "Ow--fuck--"
Vikram didn't stop until a deep, purple hickey bloomed beneath his lips.
A mark.
One Ishaan would feel for days. Every time he sat down. Every time he walked.
I'm his now, he thought.
He hated how much he loved it.
Then Vikram spat.
The glob landed dead center.
Thick. Messy.
He spat again. Louder.
Then licked.
Not neat this time.
Not delicate.
It was sloppy. Hungry. Desperate.
He spit into Ishaan's crack and slurped it right back up.
His tongue lapped across the rim, pushing in, dragging out. His hands spread Ishaan wide, squeezing the cheeks, keeping them parted.
Ishaan shook.
His cock was pressed to the mattress, drooling against the sheets. His face was flushed, ears burning.
And suddenly, he realized--
This isn't just because he likes eating ass.
This is prep.
He's getting me ready.
Vikram's tongue was fucking him. Fast. Deep. Slurping like it was the only thing that mattered. Like he needed to loosen him. Stretch him. Wet him.
Because something bigger was coming.
And they both knew it.
