DISCLAIMER – This is a story about actors from the TV series 13 Reasons Why. It's fictional. Unless it turns out this was true all along, in which case, I didn't know, I'm just a soothsayer of some kind.
Please drop me an email at JJFreeman42@gmail.com if you have any feedback, suggestions, or just want to share your love of these guys or this series.
Last, but not least, DONATE TO NIFTY, it's a great place to host all of our smut and stuff, and they deserve the support, so go do it. Do it now. Done it? Good. Then on with the story...
"Sure, why not?" laughed Dylan Minnette.
"You don't believe me, do you?" said Brandon, smiling wickedly, "I'm telling you, one kiss, and you'll never go back."
The two guys were in the locker room set of their TV show, 13 Reasons Why. They'd just finished filming a scene, and neither of the actors were needed for the rest of the day.
The crew and the rest of the actors were either filming on a completely different location or not on set at all.
The two of them had decided to have lunch together, and they'd taken the food back to the locker room to get some peace and quiet—it'd been non-stop since the new season had started filming.
"You're that confident in your kissing ability?" Dylan asked, smirking.
"Absolutely—it'll change your life."
"Well," shrugged Dylan, "I can't turn down a life-changing experience. So go on... try it."
Brandon lipped his lips hungrily, he could barely believe his luck.
Dylan moved in slightly, and Brandon's cock started to swell. He was actually fucking into this!
Brandon quickly moved forward, tilting his head slightly to one side and pressing his soft lips against Dylan's.
He considered slipping him a bit of tongue, but thought that might be too much for the first time.
After a few seconds, the two parted.
Dylan shook his head, trying to smile.
"Nah- wasn't-" he stuttered. Then, he grabbed Brandon, one hand on his neck, the other on his shoulder and pulled him closer.
This time, Dylan's tongue entered his mouth, and Brandon let himself melt into the kiss. Their lips seemed to cling to one another's faces, the tongues battling one another as the heat intensified.
Brandon grabbed Dylan's shirt and ripped it open. Dylan broke off the kiss and started to help Brandon remove his jersey. Underneath, he was still wearing his shoulder pads. Brandon moved to take them off but Dylan stopped him.
"No," he said forcefully, his voice lower, his eyes not moving from Brandon's, "keep it on—I like it."
Brandon smiled and moved forward quickly, pushing Dylan on to his back as he began kissing his neck and slowly working his way down his chest.
Dylan gasped and moaned, his skin tingling as Brandon's soft, wet lips marked a pattern down to his crotch.
Brandon reached Dylan's trail and stopped. He looked up. Dylan nodded his approval.
He hastily fumbled with the buttons on Dylan's jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers.
Brandon gasped.
Dylan's cock was slender, but long, almost perfectly smooth and curved ever so slightly downwards, then back up at the tip. He was uncut too, and his foreskin was halfway pulled back, revealing the wet, pink head of his meat.
It was too much.
Brandon lowered his mouth over it without a second thought and Dylan nearly cried out at the sensation. The warmth of his mouth was incredible. He shuddered as the tip of his cock reached the back of Brandon's throat... he was clearly well practised at this.
Dylan closed his eyes and listened to the sound of slurping and gagging. He bit forearm in an effort to slow down his quickly escalating climax.
He didn't want to cum yet... he wanted more.
"Stop."
Brandon obeyed. But, he didn't remove the cock from his mouth.
He looked up at Dylan with his best puppy dog eyes and swirled his tongue around his cock-head and beneath his foreskin.
"Fuck," Dylan gasped, before steeling himself and looking at Brandon intensely. He smiled.
"You're going to get fucked for that."
Brandon's smile was uncontainable.
Dylan grabbed him by the hair, pulled him off his cock and pushed him back on to the bench. He ripped off Brandon's shorts in one motion and pulled him towards himself by cupping his hands around Brandon's thighs.
Brandon raised his ass up—another move he'd practised—and tensed his abdominal muscles.
Dylan rubbed his cock against Brandon's hole. A moan escaped from his mouth as his hole was teased; he could feel his own saliva pressing into him.
"You ready for this?"
Brandon laughed.
"I've been ready since the start of season one."
Dylan bit his lip and pushed. Brandon groaned; a noise that got louder the further Dylan pushed in.
After a few seconds, Dylan was as deep as he could go, and Brandon ran a hand up his tight body. His hand stopped at his nipples and the small collection of chest hairs between them.
"You gonna fuck me, Clay?" Brandon asked, breathing hard and tensing his hole around Dylan's throbbing cock.
Dylan winced. Being called by his character's name threw him off, but only for a moment. He looked down at the boy beneath him, impaled on his meat.
His smooth body, his messy hair, his tight brown nipples, his tattoo etched on his side, and his cheeky smile. His dick, fully erect, cut, throbbing. He'd never wanted anyone so badly in his life.
"You're an asshole Justin Foley," Dylan said, his mouth dry, "I'm going to teach you some manners."
He pulled out and pushed back into him with force. Brandon cried out in agonising ecstasy and Dylan thrust harder and faster. They began to sweat as the room heated up. Their breaths became ragged.
Dylan, fighting exhaustion, fell forward; his and Brandon's chests pressed against one another. Brandon's hands dug into Dylan's back, as his nails scratched at it viciously. They kissed again, more passionately, barely able to control their tongues, as the wet sounds of their mouths merged with the rhythmic slapping of Dylan's balls against Brandon's tight ass.
Dylan broke off the kiss. "I'm gonna-"
He didn't finish the sentence. The words became a grunt and a groan as Dylan unloaded as deep as he could inside Brandon.
The two of them barely had time to break apart when the sound of footsteps came from the hallway.
"Shit," whispered Brandon, "quick—in here."
The two of them grabbed their discarded clothes and bundled themselves into the nearest locker. Their sweaty bodies pressed against one another as they tried to control their breathing.
Ross Butler, their co-star, walked into the locker room.
"Where the hell did I put that backpack... I know... ah ha!" he called triumphantly. He seized his backpack from a nearby hook and threw it over his shoulders. Then, he stopped suddenly.
He was gazing at something on the bench.
Brandon and Dylan tried to calm themselves, afraid the beating of their hearts might give them away.
Ross picked up whatever he was looking at and inspected it. Then, he looked around, as if making sure no-one was there, and then lifted the item to his face.
It was Brandon's jockstrap.
Ross sniffed deeply, burying his nose where Brandon's dick had been only minutes earlier.
Ross smiled, looked around once again, and then stuffed the jock into his backpack before disappearing from the room.
Brandon started to laugh, quietly at first, then louder as he became sure they were alone.
It appeared he had an admirer...
If you guys enjoyed this, drop me an email at JJFreeman42@gmail.com with feedback and/or suggestions of what you'd like to see. I'm thinking of doing this as a series and will do my best to actually write it!
Finally, if you liked this story and you also like Twenty One Pilots... I've written a story about them! Check it out here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/celebrity/twenty-one-pilots
Thanks for reading.