A/N: College!AU fic meaning BTR never existed and most of the guys aren't friends. Rated M for language, explicit sex, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, naked photo taking, and naughty boys doing naughty things with social media.

This is what happens when you spend an hour or so scrolling through someone's NSFW tumblog. Started as a minor lil ramble drabble-type deal on my Tumblr and now it's a full fic (or at least it's a full fic in my head...). Crazy. Anyway, this is dedicated to Linda (who I still owe a bday present I'M SORRY!) who lets me message her things while she's at work because I'm indecisive and need her advice. It was all her messages that made this into a THING, so take, like, twelve percent of the credit. Tumblr is owned by that David guy-er. Any other social media mentioned is owned by their owners. All Avengers and SHIELD references are credited to Marvel and Generalissimo Stan Lee. Title from "Photograph" by Def Leppard because why not and it's fitting so :P

Jett Stetson wasn't a terrible roommate. Not entirely anyway. Yeah, he was a slob and didn't keep his side of the room tidy, the space overflowing with polo tees, hair products, and take-out food cartons that remained no matter how many times James begged him to throw them out before they got bugs. But there were still perks to sharing a dorm with the guy. For starters, he was a socialite and a whore, meaning he was gone more than he was in the room, giving James the space to himself. Totally came in handy when needing to focus on his paper.

Which was why he'd put in the request to room with Jett for their junior year after having shared a dorm the previous two semesters at San Diego State. Guy wasn't James' first choice in ideal roomies, but Dak was already sharing a suite with Logan, who was still insisting he was one-hundred percent straight while Dak was telling James the sordid details of their bros-with-benefits relationship. Jett always grimaced and left as soon as the details began but James was always completely riveted.

He figured it was a kink of sorts, hearing about people's sex lives. He always got off more watching than actually participating and hearing the details of what his best buddy got up to tended to be a damn good aphrodisiac of sorts. He drew the line at actually being in the room as people had sex, figuring that was a step too far. But porn was a thing and something he frequently indulged in.

Another reason why having a roomie who was mostly gone was so fucking great.

Not that he was indulging in porn at that moment. No, he was busy having his brain fried as he tried to think of something actually original for his Lit paper. And drawing a blank. Shit.

James leaned back in his chair, stretching his spine over the back of it as he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to get his mind right. But it was too tired, too frazzled, and the only thought it was capable of was how good it felt to stretch after having been sitting there for—

Okay he had no clue how long he'd been sitting there.

Dropping his hands, he returned to his original slumping position behind his desk, turning his head to his left. His bed was directly beside him, books laid out over meticulously made sheets, cell phone plugged up and charging on his pillow in the hopes that having it so far away made it less tempting to text people. His nightstand was to the left of his bed, sitting below the window covered by blackout blinds James had purchased a year and a half ago after having learned his lesson regarding dorm issued ones and how little light they blocked.

The alarm clock on his nightstand drew his attention, the red numbers alerting him to the fact that he'd been working on his paper for three hours straight now. Holy... No wonder his brain felt fried.

Clearly break time.

He clicked the save button three times in a paranoid attempt to make sure nothing was lost before minimizing the window. The next thing he did was reconnect his wifi after having flipped it off earlier as another way to erase any distractions, all his research done and printed off beforehand. Connection established, he opened an internet browser and allowed his brain to switch to idle as he messed about.

His emails were quickly read and trashed, anything important moved to the appropriate folder. Twitter wasn't all that interesting and he had no new notifications save for a follow by a spambot that he promptly blocked and reported. He didn't even bother with Facebook, more annoyed by whiny drama queens and game requests than actually enjoying the social interaction it was meant to provide.

Tumblr was his last option, scrolling through his dash and checking all the posts, randomly clicking the heart to like a few here and there but mostly just moving along the line and barely registering what he was seeing. A gifset from the latest Fast and Furious movie. A new flavor of his favorite protein mix. An Instagram pic from the Minnesota Wild, his favorite hockey team despite having grown up in California. An ad for a new horror flick. Random long post he sped by, not really caring about whatever political injustice Tumblr users were in a tizzy about that week. A bare torso and a long cock. A behind the scenes—

Wait, what?

James paused his absent scrolling, inadvertently causing some Vine movie a classmate had recorded to start playing. He muttered a swear in its direction before slamming his finger into the mute button to get it to shut up, then scrolled back up his dash.

Two posts later, he found the pic that had belatedly caught his attention, jaw dropping as his breath hitched in his throat. The photo wasn't anything too fancy or professional, an obviously amateur shot more than likely done by a webcam or cheap point-and-shot digital camera on a timer. But it was the image itself that had James staring, completely enraptured by it.

It was a lean male, from shoulders to mid-thigh, one hand holding a plain white tee up and exposing a long torso. Pale skin was on full display, covering barely there abdominal muscles, sharp hipbones, and that V that drove James crazy. Light gray sweats were hanging way low, the waistband wrapped around his thighs, underwear nowhere to be scene, the long fingers of his left hand holding his pants down. And hanging outside them like a delectable treat was a long, thin, flaccid cock, foreskin covering the head and hiding it the way his pants were meant to, neatly trimmed patch of hair completing the package.

"Damn," James breathed out, hazel-green eyes roaming the photo, tongue absently darting out to wet his lips. It wasn't the most explicit thing he'd ever seen but it was enough to make his cock give an interested twitch inside his own dark gray sweats.

He switched his line of vision to finding out who had put the pic on his dash in the first place, not all that surprised to find the phrase "dakattak reblogged hottwinksdaily" at the top of the post. His finger moved on automatic as he clicked the heart icon in the bottom right corner of it, eyes taking in the pic again before moving to the bottom left.

"Source: kendallkums".

Well that sounded promising.

He wondered what exactly he'd find on that blog, if it would be more of the same guy or a collection of assorted similar images. Porn tumblogs were plentiful, catering to every kink, every fetish, every type, and every sexuality. Some were dedicated to just images and gifs of rimming, some were filled with posts about slutty bottoms, some were filled with images of guys showing their cocks—a lot like the photo James had just liked—and some were whatever graphic—or even not so explicit—image turned the blogger on. It was hard to tell what exactly kind of page "kendallkums" was, if it was just images like the one James had stumbled upon or a plethora of things that made this mystery Kendall aroused and even orgasm over.

Deciding there was only one way to find out, James clicked the source tag and went to the page.

The layout of the blog was nothing special, flat black background taking over the whole space, "Coming Up With Blog Titles is Hard (all puns intended)" in large white font across the top and making James snort in amusement. The sidebar was to the left, the URL in red letters above a decent sized version of his avatar: white teeth sinking into a plump bottom lip, strong chin smooth and clean-shaven, Adam's apple standing out from a slender pale neck.

"Kendall. 18. Minnesota. Bottom but open to switching every now and then. All pics are of me by me unless otherwise stated in the tags. Enjoy your visit! ;)"

James read the all-white bio twice, cock twitching again, hoping the photo he'd liked was an original by this Kendall guy. Because James' type had always been the lean, twink, bottom type and that photo had captured it pretty damn well. And while he preferred to top, he definitely wouldn't mind having that long cock filling him up.

Basically a lot more images like the original would be amazing.

James switched his focus to the main part of the blog, to the posts Kendall had created. The first was a photo of that same lean torso, this time angled downwards as though peering through Kendall's own eyes. A small dusting of hair was visible between his flat pecs, lighter ones trailing from his belly button down to blue briefs, where his hard cock lay across to his hip.

The next was a mirror selfie, iPhone visible in his right hand, left one gripping his dick through black skinny jeans. He was shirtless again, but his chin and mouth were visible, lips curved up in a naughty smirk, dimple formed in his cheek. Guy clearly knew what he was doing and what effect he was having on those looking at his photo.

Those people like James, who was staring with parted lips and twitching cock, imagining those fingers wrapped around his length and gripping him tightly.

He scrolled down to the next photo, another mirror shot, this time from the side and fully nude, his body shown from shoulder to mid-calf. A firm round asscheek was displayed, a hot indent where the muscle was tensed. His free hand was cupping his dick, covering himself up, and somehow just as erotic as having everything on display.

James scrolled through more photos, analyzing each one, checking the tags Kendall had used. All contained tags saying "twink", "gay", "bottom", "teenage", along with tags describing what was in the pic: "sweats", "nude", "briefs", "jockstrap". There were also a few reblogged posts here and there, gifs tagged with how he wanted to be pounded like that, videos tagged with confessions over how much he loved being rimmed, photos of muscular men with facial and chest hair tagged as "dream guy", "UNF", and "fuck me".

James actually checked himself out at that last one, hand rubbing his unshaven jaw before sliding down his body, feeling his own muscles through the tank he was wearing. He peeked down to see his hairy chest, suddenly glad he'd gotten lazy recently and quit waxing it, despite the ribbing he got from Jett for it. His hand wrapped around his dick through his sweats, feeling how hard he'd gotten scrolling through Kendall's pics and he gave it a squeeze before clicking to check out the next page of posts.

He groaned over shots of the guy gripping himself, breathed out swears at his ass framed and sculpted in a jockstrap, practically whimpered at a quick ten second video of Kendall pulling his foreskin back and exhaling with a shaky moan.

He watched that one more than once.

The posts were all a variety of shots, different angles in different locations: a bedroom; what was obviously a dorm room given the boring white cement block walls and standard wood door; bathroom at someone's home; on a bed; on a desk chair; in a full length mirror James assumed was attached to a door somewhere, given how its own angle changed in different photos. There were shots of just his torso, some focused on his crotch, some on his ass. There were photos with open flannel shirts, paired with tight jeans, tight briefs, low slung sweats, or nothing at all, just his cock in various states of arousal. There were photos of different pairs of briefs—Marvel themed ones seeming to be a recurring thing—showcasing his bulge, his hidden hard dick, his exposed cock slipped out through the slit, or the cotton pulled down to show off his ass. And the ass shots were great, too. Briefs pushing his cheeks up, jockstraps framing them, hands pulling the pale globes apart and showing off his hole.

James found himself stroking his length through his sweats as he watched a thirty second video of Kendall showing it off, making it pulse and flutter, the brunet imagining that grip around his dick and those ripples massaging him. Another video of the same length showcased Kendall playing with it, whimpers and low moans breathing out of his ducked head as he knelt on his bed, shoulders to the mattress, finger massaging his pucker and barely dipping inside. James' hand slipped inside his sweats and fully wrapped around himself at that, watching the video multiple times, picturing his own tan fingers teasing that tight ring and driving this mystery guy insane. God what he wouldn't give to have that pucker on his mouth, on his tongue, to hear that rasping whine cry out his name as he licked and sucked and lapped and nipped and ate out that glorious ass like a man starved. He'd always loved rimming and he felt like with this Kendall guy, it'd become his absolute most favorite activity.

He continued scrolling through the pages of posts, noticing the male's face was never shown in any of them. The most he got was a strong jaw, a square chin, plump bottom lip just perfect for sucking on and nipping during heated make out sessions, a quick peek at a dimple, and the tip of a strong nose once. It all added to the mystery, to the desire to get to know exactly who Kendall was and how exactly James could get to see all these images in real life.

Not that it would ever happen, given the guy lived somewhere in Minnesota and James was in San Diego.

He shoved that thought aside, browsing more photos, downward angles of a lean torso and tented briefs, long fingers wrapped around a longer length, another rear view shot of his ass. And while some of the shots were nude, it was never overly explicit. There were no come shots, no jizz all over whatever skin he was exposing at the time. He didn't have a toy in his ass or dick in his mouth. The most explicit Kendall got was the quick breaching of a finger in his hole in one video and a twenty second video of him stroking himself. But it was still hot enough to have James harder than he had been in a long time, to have him grabbing the lube out a desk drawer and shoving his sweats down as he rewatched that video of Kendall stroking himself over and over and over.

The world melted away as he focused solely on the screen, clicking to make it full sized. He watched, completely entranced, as long fingers smeared precome over the head, as his foreskin was pulled back to a moan-tinged whine, as he stroked himself long and slow, grip tight. His thumb played with his slit, making him gasp, raspy breaths leaving him, and the brunet couldn't help but imagine that same voice gasping out his name as he fisted the boy's cock.

His hand moved faster over his own dick, left one shoving up his tank and scratching his nails against his abs. His hips were bucking, causing his chair to creak and roll back slightly and he had to pause his actions to drag himself back to his desk, hooking his foot around a leg of it to keep himself in place. He restarted the video, put it on a loop, lost himself in the sounds of their slick dicks being stroked together and the groans his digital counterpart was letting out. Closing his eyes, he could almost believe that Kendall was there with him, that he was that hard and desperate because of James, that James was about to paint that pale skin and that lean torso with his come.

The video started again, dorm room filling with the sound of a shaky gasp/moan mix as Kendall played with his foreskin. And it was that noise—along with the mental image of being the one to toy with the extra sensitive skin—that finally set James off, the brunet's head tilting over the back of the chair and his spine arching as he shot off, Kendall's name groaned out through clenched teeth.

He stroked himself through it, grip loosening as he came down off his high. Pausing the video, it froze on the image of Kendall thumbing his slit, the sight making James breathe out a swear.

Once his heart and lungs were expanding and contracting normally, he cleaned himself up quickly and sloppily, wiping himself down with a couple tissues and tossing them in the trash can under his desk. Some come was still stuck to his happy trail but he decided to just clean it off when he showered in a bit.

James continued scrolling, not stopping until he'd checked out every post. He wound up having to jerk off again, body too keyed up after seeing image after image of this guy. But there were still no shots of his whole face, not even a peek at his eyes, only the end of his nose and down. It piqued James' curiosity, made him wonder about the guy's eye color, if there was a reason why he was hiding his features like that—besides a need to maintain his privacy. He wondered about the guy's eye color, his hair color, what style he wore it in. It was strange to have seen every inch of his body, including parts that were censored on TV, but not having gotten a full look at his face.

There also was still nothing overly explicit, no come shots or stains, no toys or sexual paraphernalia, no other people in the pics with him or evidence that someone else had taken those shots. It was all Kendall, just Kendall, with his pale skin and lean frame and long fingers and hung cock, all photos clearly taken with a low-res digital camera or webcam or phone, something that tweaked at James' photographer's eye. But despite all that, the brunet was hooked and aroused, wanted more, wanted the guy in the pics all for himself in real life.

But it wasn't possible.

So instead, he settled for scrolling to the top of the screen and clicking the "follow" button. Seemed like he had a new favorite tumblog.

James took a quick cold shower before getting back to work on his paper. It took him a while to get focused again, to shove aside thoughts of Kendall and memories of his photos, but once he managed to do it, he really hit his stride with writing.

Jett came back for an hour, long enough to distract James as he got ready for whatever date he was set to go on. James took the opportunity to eat dinner while trying to pay attention to his roomie ramble about his day. Once Jett was gone, he spent another hour or so on his paper again, putting a big dent in his required word count.

He rewarded himself by going back to Kendall's tumblog, liking pretty much every photo he posted of himself, squeezing his own cock every now and then. Sometimes he'd allow the photography side of his mind mull over how he'd shoot a particular pic, how he'd frame it, what lens he'd use, how he'd improve upon an already great image or turn a mediocre one into something really worth jizzing over. Although with that being said, he wasn't entirely sure how many photos he'd actually be able to take with a subject like that before he got distracted doing something a little more hands on with him.

He also read all the posted asks rather than skipping over them like he had earlier, intrigued to find out more about this mystery guy. Most were explicit fantasies over what the asker would do to Kendall, the teen responding with flirty comments stating how he wouldn't mind that happening, if the asker promised to behave that way, why they couldn't just go ahead and do just that. Some were requests over what photos they wanted to see: more jockstraps, show off that pretty pucker of yours, let's see you orgasm, wanna see you covered in come. Most of the time he was happy to comply; other times, like the requests for come or toys or his face, were declined, coupled with reminders that he was never gonna show his face or do anything too dirty. The second part of that was sometimes followed with a cheeky "yet ;)".

But the one type of ask that never failed to completely captured James' attention were questions regarding his romantic status. And every time, Kendall would answer that he was "still looking for that perfect dark haired, chest hair covered, kinda beardy muscular top to rim me til I cry and pound me til I can't walk ;)". James always felt his heart skip a beat at that, stomach clenching at the realization that he fit that description. Of course, all the replies to the ask were guys claiming the same thing-or questioning if he'd settle for a blond with all the same qualities or a dark haired guy with a few hairs on his chest. James tried not to feel jealous but still couldn't help the way his eyes narrowed in anger and his fingers clenched into a fist.

Which was really fucking dumb when he thought about it. Kendall didn't belong to him, didn't even know he existed. But plenty people on tumblr—and possibly beyond—knew Kendall and wanted him for their own, if the number of notes his posts got were anything to go by. And judging by the teen's response to them all, he enjoyed the attention, possibly got off on everyone checking him out, wanting him, fantasizing about him, getting off on him, too. Who knows if that would change if he were to be in a relationship? But no matter what, Kendall was meant to be shared and not James' to keep all to himself. Meaning he was just gonna have to suck it up and get over those responses and requests Kendall received.

And it was all those messages that stopped James from sending one himself. He didn't wanna be lumped in with all the other horndogs, didn't wanna be just another guy perving on him—although really, wasn't he just that? He wanted to stand out and be special and it was an idiotic thought to have. So he settled for just staring at the photos and fantasizing over what he couldn't have.

Was better than nothing really.

Sunday was dedicated solely to finishing up his paper. Not that he had a choice really, considering the fact that Jett was actually in their room the whole day and it was due in his morning class the next day. Dak invited him out for a bite to eat that night and James took him up on the offer, finding it hard to think up anything when he was asked if there was anything new happening in his life. He wound up rambling over some new feature he was figuring out on his photo editing software, changing the subject when his buddy once again asked why James wasn't going to art school to major in photography.

Real life started back up with a morning class on Monday, everything seeming to drag. Classes were too long, homework took forever, and everything was boring the shit out of him. Really, the only part of his day that he seemed to enjoy was checking Kendall's page for new updates, and even then it wasn't something he was able to do every night.

Kendall posted one or two new pics a day, as well as answered questions and reblogged here and there. Sunday night featured a spam of porn gifs and pics, all with different men, but all featuring a buff guy with a twink, tagged with Kendall's desires to be the featured bottom. James spent Monday afternoon jacking off to the fantasy of him helping Kendall recreate those scenes, the memory of his moans in his head.

More requests had been made for other photos, one answered with a desired shot of his ass, another asking for a photo of him with his favorite toy met with a sarcastic shot of his hand holding a flesh colored dildo over a blue plaid bedspread. James let out a chuckle at that, smiling to himself at the wordless snark. The usual explicit fantasies were mixed in, further cementing his decision not to message Kendall himself.

But fuck was he dying to.

He probably wouldn't go into details about exactly what he'd do to the teen were they in the same room, but he still felt a need to express how attractive he found the younger man, how hot the pics made him, how badly he wished they could be in the same place so he could see all those body parts up close and without the low-res digitization. He couldn't say it to his friends, not really. Dak would ask what the hell was stopping him, Logan would look morally offended and like he was praying for James to just stop talking, and Jett would give him a blank expression, clearly wondering what his point was and why he should care since it wasn't about him.

Maybe it was time to expand his friendship circle.

Not that it mattered. He didn't think anyone would understand his... intrigument with this mysterious Kendall. They'd all think he was weird, had some sort of attachment issues, needed mental help, any sorta possibility like that. And he wasn't quite ready to say out loud what was going on, not when he didn't understand why he was so fascinated with this unknown guy, not when he wasn't ready to admit to himself that maybe it was more than just being aroused by a random tumblog. So he kept his mouth shut and his fingers still, not telling his friends and not messaging Kendall.

Until Friday night.

James had spent all Tuesday afternoon on homework, holed up in the library with his study group that included Logan, a curly haired girl named Camille and an Asian female named Lucy, who'd spent more time painting her nails red to match the streaks in her hair than actually studying. Wednesday was spent in the park taking photos for his latest assignment, getting distracted with taking shots of the couples he stumbled upon rather than the wildlife he was meant to capture. Thursday was spent much like Tuesday, only with more complaining from Lucy. But Friday was James', all to himself. Jett was off at some party—for a change—and most likely would be spending the night at someone else's place, giving James the room to himself again. And being the hopeless loser that he was, he spent it on tumblr.

Or, more specifically, Kendall's tumblr page.

Part of him believed it was becoming an addiction, checking his tumblog pretty much daily. But the other part of him reasoned that he hadn't been able to check it Tuesday or Thursday, so therefore it wasn't that big an addiction or a problem. 'Course the only way that argument worked was when he ignored the fact that on Wednesday and that day he'd been constantly thinking about the blog and the teen featured on it, wondering what pics he'd missed, if there were any new videos, had he finally given in to the obnoxious asks requesting dirtier images, but most of all, he wondered who exactly Kendall was and why he'd started that page in the first place. There had to be a good reason for it. No one just wakes up one morning and decides they were gonna start a tumblr solely to post nude and semi-nude photos of themselves. Except maybe pornstars, but as far as James knew, Kendall wasn't one of them.

The first post was a side-by-side set of two mirror selfies taken with an iPhone that was visible at the top of both shots. Kendall was visible from the shoulders down in both, the left photo showcasing the front of him in nothing but a royal blue jockstrap with a red elastic waistband. The right photo was a side view, bare ass on display, perked up by the red straps, free hand cupping his bulge. The caption beneath the photos read "new jock finally came in", followed by emojis of a wide smile, a thumbs-up, and two hands held up as though waiting for a high five or signaling a good goal.

James moaned at the pale flesh that was revealed, hips bucking where he was slouched on his bed, laptop on his thighs. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to have that creamy flesh before him, to make it red as he spanked those bubble cheeks, as he rubbed his scruff covered jaw between them while eating him out. He'd make the skin match the elastic framing it and keep going until Kendall was a crying, begging mess pleading with him to stop.

His cock twitched in his jeans, clearly on board with the plan.

The next couple pics were more low-res phone shots: down his torso, peeking at his hard cock as it pushed up his shorts and let the viewer see his trimmed pubes; a close-up of his limp dick hanging out the slit of green boxers; another near full body mirror shot of him in black sweats, Minnesota Wild written up one leg, the waistband shoved down to reveal the first inch or so of his cock; another down the torso shot, this time of him gripping his bare hard cock and cocking his leg to the side. A picture of his ass in a pair of tight green briefs was next, captioned with the phrase "lucky undies" and a few shamrock emojis.

And while every shot turned James on just a bit more, had his dick pulsing as it tried to stiffen up, it was the photoset from Thursday night that really got him hard.

The pics were all the usual low-res webcam variety, longer horizontally than vertically. Each one featured Kendall from the chin down as he laid on a long bed with those same blue plaid covers, white cement block walls in the background, no clothes anywhere to be found. The first shot was him laying there, cock hard as it lay against his lower abdomen, legs stretched out flat before him. One hand was on his chest, the other hidden on the other side, and James was completely enraptured. He studied the long lines of that pale flesh, the dip by his hips, the flat planes of his pecs, the curve of his cock, the spread of his fingers. He hadn't even seen Kendall's face, but the guy was still gorgeous, beautiful, the most attractive body James had seen in a long time—if ever.

The next shot had his hand wrapped around his cock, holding it up to show its length. The next had his right leg—the one closer to the wall—cocked up, hips slightly raised as his hand had slid towards the head of his dick.

"Fuck," James breathed out, reaching over to his nightstand for his lube while simultaneously shoving his jeans and boxer-briefs down, exposing himself. There was no way he couldn't not touch himself, not when he was looking at this. It was just as hot as the video of Kendall doing this very thing, just as arousing, and James could no longer hold off on mimicking the unknown man's actions.

The fourth photo was Kendall's back arching, left hand wrapped around the base of his dick and holding it up, pointer finger of his right hand dipping inside his foreskin. James groaned, imagining the other man making a similar noise, remembering the sounds he'd made in the video when he'd played with it. He'd always heard that foreskins made a guy extra sensitive and he was dying to test it out on Kendall, to see exactly how sensitive he was and if he could coax those noises out past that pouting bottom lip.

Photo number five featured Kendall now on his knees, shoulders pressed down against the mattress, cock hanging between his legs. The next photo was similar, but with the fingers of his left hand near his mouth. The following pic had his hips apparently grinding down into the mattress, hand gripping the edge of the bed, the bottom of his mouth visible as his lips hung open.

James' hand was wrapped around his own cock in a tight grip, stroking himself at a fast pace. He'd wanted to draw it out, make it last, but he couldn't, not with each photo getting more graphic, more arousing. Kendall was far gone, it was obviously in the curve of his spine and the barely visible flush of his skin, and James got lost in a fantasy, one involving the two of them in a long-distance relationship where Kendall was sending these photos just for him.

"Look how bad I need you."

"Just the memory of you is enough to get me going."

"Wish you were here. Need your cock so bad, baby."

With one hand still stroking himself, he slid his finger down the pad on his laptop, scrolling the page down, moaning louder than ever when the next picture came into view.

Kendall's hips were back in the air, knees pressing into the mattress, shoulders still down. But now he had his left hand on his ass, fingers dipping between his cheeks, with the middle and ring fingers disappearing further in the very next shot. Dirty blond hair was visible as he shoved his face into his mattress, spine curving, arching, ass popped out more. It was obscene without being graphic, erotic without being slutty, and the cries he was surely making as these photos were taking were almost audible in every line of his body.

James was panting hard, his own skin flushed, his chest heaving as he moved his hand faster. The slick sounds of his lube covered cock being stripped filled the room, joined by his breathed out swears and his gasping moans. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been that hard, when he'd needed to come so bad, when he felt ready to shoot off after such a short period of time. But he was. He was ready to blow after just a few minutes and he knew it was because of the teenager he was staring at on his screen and his imagination taking it to the next level.

And his final pic pretty much just killed James.

In it, Kendall was bent over with his ass aimed towards the camera, hands spreading his cheeks apart and exposing a shining, stretched hole, one that had been worked over, one that had been prepped for use. The pucker was a deep pink and James could practically see it twitching, see it fluttering, see it trying to pull something inside. The tips of his fingers were just barely touching the ring, a tease of the bestworst kind, not just for the man himself, but for all those looking at that image. Because it was such a blatant invitation, a direction of where he needed to be filled, and the brunet's mind automatically supplied him with the image of lining his thick cock up and sliding on in, feeling Kendall's fingers as he entered him.

With that thought, he came, hips bucking and sending his laptop sliding off his legs and onto the mattress. His head tilted back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to prevent any embarrassing sounds from coming out, to stop him from moaning out the teenager's name like so many times before. His hand kept stroking himself on automatic, prolonging his orgasm, squeezing every last drop out of him as the ropes of it landed on his sleeveless tee.

A whimper left him as he came down, hand dropping to his thigh when his dick became too sensitive. He remained unmoving for a while, simply slouching there, head back against the headboard, chest heaving as his lungs ached and his heart hurt from pounding so hard. It took a while for him to come back to his body, to regain use of muscles that had suddenly tensed up then relaxed, and he gave himself another quick, lazy clean, this time with some baby wipes.

He shuffled over to the trashcan under his desk, depositing the used wipes and using another to clean off his hands. Pants back where they should be, he changed into a similar shirt, tossing his soiled one in his hamper and noting how he should hit up the laundromat that weekend, considering how things were now spilling out the top. Way too Jett-like for his taste.

Tired but sated—as much as one could be sated after a solo-orgasm at least—he flopped back onto his bed, dragging his laptop back onto his thighs, scrolling down to the bottom of the post in order to hit "like". As he did, he caught sight of the caption at the bottom of the photo set, a smile forming on his face.

"Thirsty Thursday."

The photo appeared on his dash pretty much as soon as James clicked the home button to go to it. He wasn't sure if it was a coincidence, a sign, total happenstance, or what, but it was definitely a jolt to his heart to finish jacking off to Kendall's "Thirsty Thursday" photoset then see the same guy as the first post on his dash.

It was another mirror selfie, this one with his phone in the shot and his SHIELD case on display as he held it with his right hand. A smirk was on his face, lips curved up at one side, a dimple in his cheek, stubble covering his cheeks and jaw. But it was the outfit that really caught James' attention: a pair of royal blue briefs hugging his clearly hard cock and a Captain America zip-up sweatshirt designed to look like his uniform, the zipper undone and revealing that lean torso the brunet loved, hood over his face and obscuring his features.

James licked his lips on automatic, cock giving a twitch in a valiant effort to get hard solely out of a Pavlovian reflex to plump up when his eyes caught sight of that male. The hazel-green orbs roamed the photo, taking in every line of it, before checking out the caption below it: "favorite hoodie!" followed by alternating wide smiley and heart emojis. He then read the tags, skimming over the usuals he put with every post, noting the new ones: "hoodie", "fave", "cap america", "cap is the best fuckin superhero ever and I will fight ANYONE on that!"

"Oh hell no," he muttered to no one in particular, clicking Kendall's tumblr URL to take him back to his page. The ask button was easily found right below his bio and James clicked it without thinking, typing up a quick message.

"Everyone knows Iron Man is the best superhero ever and you're a fucking moron for thinking otherwise."

Finger moving over the pad, he aimed his cursor at the "submit" button, hesitating, eyes drifting to the left side of the screen.

"Post as hardasadiamond"

Did he really want to? Surely being anon would be better, especially when dissing a guy's fave Avenger. But this was personal. This was him trying to educate some poor fool who had clearly been distracted by Chris Evan's jawline and abdomen—not that James could blame him—and was so very obviously in need of being set straight.

With a firm nod, he clicked to submit, watching as the screen shifted to alert him that his ask had gone through. He leaned back, clasping his hands on top of his head, smug smirk on his face in victory. It took him a moment for the realization of what he'd just done to fully sink in, for him to fully understand what had just happened. He'd messaged Kendall. And about the Avengers. God he was fucking stupid, so fucking ridiculous. He was perfectly—mostly—content remaining anonymous, being just another random nobody amongst the thousands of people who liked his photos. But he'd gone and screwed that up by calling him a moron and arguing his taste in Marvel heroes, obliterating any chances he'd ever had in some sorta alternate reality where he'd have a shot with the guy.

A swear left him on a breath as he smeared his hands over his face before ruffing up his hair. Shit. Totally fucked that one up.

Then again, considering the notes the guy got on his posts and the number of asks he published, chances were he had hundreds of messages in his box and James' would just get lost in the shuffle.

Or maybe Kendall would immediately see it since he was obviously online and think James was a prick and tell him to fuck right off.

The brunet quickly clicked the browser closed and slammed his laptop shut like it had caused any of his terrible decisions to be made. Pushing it aside, he drew his knees up, elbow rested on top of one as he repeatedly ran his hand through his brown hair. Who the hell knew? Maybe he'd get lucky and Tumblr would eat his message and Kendall would never see it.

A snort escaped him, rocking his head. Yeah right. Luck wasn't something he had. Things tended to not go his way, hence him studying fucking business. Whatever. He'd deal with it if and when it came, if Kendall got the message and responded in any way. Turning around, he flopped onto his back on the bed, bare feet on his pillows, flinging an arm over his face as he groaned dramatically and cursed his friend Dak for putting that original photo on his dash in the first place.