customer service by hanneswrites

customer service

Mairon taps his fingernails impatiently on his desktop, absently hitting the “refresh page” icon for what seemed like the fiftieth time. He spares a quick glance at his watch. 8:17pm.

The page reloads. That same annoying little spinning icon appears in the middle of the screen to let him know the livestream has yet to begin.  

KingofArda is now 17 minutes late.

Mairon normally wouldn’t be this agitated - KingofArda had a running habit of starting his streams well past the times he originally said they’d begin, and Mairon knew this and accepted it, being the long-time devoted fan that he was - but it had been a long week and Mairon just wanted to --

The screen flickers, the little spinning wheel of death now gone and replaced with the all-too-familiar sight of a dimly lit bedroom. KingofArda flashes the camera a smile as he adjusts it to take in the full view of the room: a large bed with black sheets framed by neon green backlighting. An odd color setup, but one that Mairon could appreciate.

He climbs onto the bed slowly, legs parting for just a moment as he leans back to get comfortable. Mairon’s eyes immediately focus on the way his muscles shift as he moves - the sheer power he always seems to carry about himself is intoxicating. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he suddenly feels parched. 

KingofArda’s skin is flushed and the smile on his lips seems wide and genuine. He slowly eases his dark briefs over his hips and down his legs, throwing them off screen a moment later. Mairon’s breath catches in his throat as takes it all in, eyes following the strong curve of his neck down to his broad shoulders, the swell of his chest, and --his cock straining up and arching toward his toned stomach. 

He takes himself in hand and gives a quick stroke, grinning wildly into the camera. Mairon watches, enraptured, as his fist moves faster and faster, drawing out deep gasps and moans as he gives a slick swirl around the head. He thrusts up into his hand, hips arching off the bed as he sends himself over the edge. 

Mairon lets out a long breath, readjusting himself in his seat. He could feel the pulse of his own erection straining against his pants, but he made no move to free himself. It always paid to wait - the first part of the show was always a bit too quick for his tastes.

KingofArda bathes in his afterglow for a long moment, chest heaving in the low light, and Mairon wishes (not for the first time) that he could be right there with him, running his hands along that sweat-damp skin, coaxing him back into hardness to go another round, worshipping him, as he deserved. 

KingofArda says something and then lets out a long chuckle, the sound coming in tinny and distorted through Mairon’s headphones. He props himself up on one arm, a crooked smirk gracing his features as he pulls a small bottle of lube out from under the pillows and dangles it in front of the camera.

Mairon leans forward, his heart beating wildly in his chest as KingofArda trails a finger up his own thigh, higher and higher, until --

The screen goes video stops, frozen in place, and for a moment Mairon just thinks he’s dragging the suspense out. And then the video goes completely dark, only to be replaced a second later by a grey frown emoji, with bottom text stating: “ERR_INTERNET_DISCONNECTED”.

And Mairon ends the night by very nearly throwing his computer out of the window.