“Can I?” Mahiro asks, tracing a finger along his waistband. “God, please let me suck you off.”
Alex’s knees go weak and he starts to slide down the door, but Mahiro holds him up. “Please,” he whimpers. He threads his hands into Mahiro’s hair as Mahiro drags his pants and underwear down, Alex’s c**k almost embarrassingly hard in the cool air of the hall. Mahiro blinks up at him, and a dirty smirk is all the warning Alex gets before Mahiro slips his lips over the head of Alex’s c**k and swallows him almost to the base in one move.
“Holy f**k,” Alex gasps, because that’s the sort of thing that’s dragged right out of Alex’s fantasies and made real in front of his eyes. He throws one hand out to steady himself against a small table next to the door, but as he does, the porcelain bowl sitting
