Dan's Gay CrisisTM Part 1 (Patreon)

He’s still thinking about it the next day. About Mia’s face looking radiant and smug with sticky strings of cum across the bride of her nose and her cheek and her forehead.

About that tiny little finger in his ass making him come harder than he has in months. Years. It makes him unreasonably nervous.

There is nothing to be nervous about, really; he knows, deep down, that it’s all fine. That she still thinks he’s a daddy even though he’s come like a rocket with her finger up his ass. But he can’t help fixating on it when he’s in the garage, arms messy with grease up to his elbows.

There’s something emasculating about it, he supposes. Getting off with something in your ass. Maybe that’s his hangup. It annoys him because he thought himself better than that. While it is true that he goes out of his way to go out of Dean’s way in turn, he’d more thought his feeling on unease to stem from the fact that he is… well… fucking his wife, to be real blunt.

So maybe it is something else, after all. Maybe, deep down, he’s afraid to be perceived as gay. Maybe it’s a tiny fucking little finger tickling his hole that forces him to rethink his world view and what he deems to be manly.

Dan scowls at the engine. He realizes he has been staring at it for quite some time without doing much. He rights himself abruptly, barely missing smashing his head against the car’s hood, and grabs for a dirty rag.

He scrubs at his arms, scowl deepening at how difficult it is getting the grease from his hairy forearms. He makes his way towards the backroom. Mac has gone there for his break some fifteen minutes ago but he’s usually happy to just be quiet and let him be, so he figures a nice dark coffee and a few minutes of quiet will set his head right.

Maybe he’ll stop thinking about how his jaw had hurt from gritting his teeth so hard while coming his brains out. Or how weirdly nice it had felt being filled up, even if just for that little bit.

He’s suitably sure Mia hasn’t even come anywhere near his prostate and from what he’s heard about-

Dan rubs his face harshly as he pushes the break room door open, pulling in a long, exasperated sigh through his throat. Why is he obsessing about this? It’s been just one of Mia’s little experiments. Just her trying to get a rise out of him (and how spectacularly she’d accomplished that one). 

He should just… stop…

He does stop; right in the doorway, staring at Mac sitting on one of the benches, shorts pulled down just below his ass, phone in one hand and cock in the other.

Dan feels simultaneously tired and like a live wire.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs and Mac jerks, head snapping around. They stare at each other. Mac’s fist does not let go of his cock. It’s a dark, ruddy red, the tip shiny where it can be seen peeking out above his fingers.

Dan swallows, eyes slanting to the side but invariably drifting back to his co-worker jerking it in the middle of the break room.

“Mac…”

“Ah, man… I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d-”

He falls quiet again, shifting.

It is uncharacteristic. They like each other well enough, but they never take their breaks together.

He still hasn’t let go of his dick, and now Dan can hear the faint sound from his phone. Two distinctly male voices groaning.

He should go, probably. Just take the step out again and close the door. He drags his hand across his beard, the rasp of it loud in the room. It’s stuffy in here – they only have a small window and it does nothing to take out the salty, thick smell of another man’s arousal.

Dan swallows, throat very dry.

Has the world gone mad?