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It’s late in the night when Leona stirs, hair mussed from rolling around in his bed, dried drool stuck to the edge of his chin from his mouth. He didn’t mean to be awake at this time, he thinks to himself. It’s just convenient this way.
Opening his door slowly while wiping the corner of his mouth, he makes his way towards the laundry room past Ruggie’s room. He doesn’t bother opening the door to check up on him— after all, the hyena beastman would leap out of bed at the sound— and instead, after waiting for a beat, moves down the stairs towards his goal.
Leona doesn’t bother turning on the lights in the laundry room before making his way towards one specific washing machine. It was, as quoted by Ruggie, “the grandest, least rusty washing machine” this dorm owned, and just as he expected, lay a pile of laundry right next to it. Leona hesitates for a second— should he do it? Should he, the dorm leader, really be doing this?— but he doesn’t put too much stock into that thought anyway, settling down beside the basket to dig for a very specific pair of boxers.
The one he was looking for was not particularly of high quality. In fact, calling it anything but a rag would be praise to its ears if it had any. Any washed and worn, the elastic band was snappy and fading, hanging loose over Ruggie’s hips over the weekend as he dusted Leona’s bed to smooth the sheets over. Leona immediately presses that particular pair of underwear to his nose, taking a deep breath in before exhaling a sigh.
Just like he expected, there’s a lilting, teasing sort of musk, with a scent that’s very particularly Ruggie. Leona feels his pants tighten even as he pulls the drawstrings looser, before eventually sighing and fishing his half-hard cock out of his pants. The cold air stings on the head, but a quick rub eventually lets the blood flow properly, precum peeking through the glans.
Heaving through the underwear, Leona thinks about what all Ruggie did while wearing it. For most of the day, he was in Leona’s room— he begins stroking his dick at that thought— cleaning and dusting and sorting through his things. Eventually, however, his thoughts go in another direction— a maybe far dirtier direction than he thought he was capable of.
Ruggie peels off his underwear slowly, wet head gleaming under the moonlight. He sits in front of Leona, presenting his ass like an extravagant meal, asshole open and inviting. Leona doesn’t even have to try prying him open, the slut that Ruggie is— his larger than usual dick slides in easily, the younger squirming beneath him, moaning about the length of his dick.
Ruggie probably wouldn’t be able to take it all in, Leona thinks to himself, the pace of his stroking quickening. He’d probably be able to take it only halfway before whining, probably cumming a little already from Leona’s animal-like barbs rubbing against his prostate.
Pulling the boxers down from his face, Leona lets his mind wander as the first of his orgasams hits him. He’d pull Ruggie onto him, watching the lither hyena beastman try to take his cock, and maybe cry tears of frustration. Leona would look at him with this very specific smirk he apparently makes when someone’s fucking up, before pushing Ruggie deeper onto his dick, making the beastman’s hole slap against his balls.
But maybe, also maybe, given the influence Ruggie has in the dorm, one night, he’d push some of the other students into Leona’s room. Leona’s hand stutters at that thought, but doesn’t stop stroking his dick. They’ll pull his covers open to find him deep in sleep, before hoisting his hips up slightly and pulling his pants down, before inserting a rough finger in his hole.
Maybe they’d be rough with him, eventually finding his g-spot before thrusting their dicks inside his hole, and he’d eventually wake up to find himself being fucked raw and deep, all while Ruggie watched with a smirk on his face. Or maybe they’d coo at him while he jumped on their dicks and rode them the entire night, talking about how he was such a big slut, the prettiest princess, their dumb little whore— all while pushing him to cum again and again and again.
Leona knows these… desires of his are fucked up. It’s one of the biggest reasons why he prefers not to indulge them, to think about them on his good or bad days even, but Ruggie… damn him, Ruggie— was making his remaining will quiver.
His asshole flutters at the thought of being manhandled and paraded like a toy, an ache spreading all over his core even as his hand continues to stroke his cock. “Ah, fuck.” He mutters, sliding lower onto the floor before sucking sloppily on two of his fingers and circling his rim. “Mmh…”
Eyes widening, Leona’s hand quickly lets go of his dick, picking another one of Ruggie’s boxers to use. Taking a deep sniff of where Ruggie’s balls would have been— he notes the smell of dried precum— he opens his mouth and stuffs the boxers in, stretching himself gently with his other hand. Meanwhile, his temporarily neglected cock still stands at full mast, as if cumming this entire time had still not helped him.
You’re such a fucking freak, Leona. He hears Ruggie’s voice in his mind filled with disgust.
Yes, I am. I’m a real fuckin’ freak.
Stuffin’ my boxers in your mouth? Ain’t no idea where that’s been, and you want that gracing your princely face?
I’d do anything to cum, I wanna cum, I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna be full—
Such a slut. I bet you’d like bein’ fucked by the rest of the dorm too, huh.
Yes. Yes please.
Ohh? You’re sayin’ please?
Fucking— please Ruggie, please Ruggie please Ruggie wanna cum wanna cum wanna cum—
Alright, alright, damn. Don’t let me hold you up, slut. Cum as much as you want.
With that permission obtained, Leona feels himself cum just as he presses his prostate, cum spilling all over the tiled floor of the washroom. He breathes heavily through his nose, boxers still stuffed in his mouth.
His cum glistens on the floor in the moonlight, a gentle almost-blue due to the hues of the floor. As he takes out the boxers from his mouth, he licks the floor clean with his tongue, lapping at the cum— his own cum— like it were precious milk. Despite all the masturbating, his cock is still half-hard, and his asshole throbs, missing the feeling of actual dick.
He sniffles at the failed outcome— now he’s too fucking pent-up to sleep, anyway— but heads back up the stairs to his room anyway.
He’s a little too pent-up to realise Ruggie’s door is a little bit ajar.