The Broken Arm Favor - Chapter 6

By now, it was automatic. The second I got to Troye’s place, I’d sit on the edge of his bed, he’d pull his shorts down, and I’d wrap my fist around his cock. Like clockwork. Like some secret routine we couldn’t quit.

I slicked my palm with lube and started stroking him, slow at first, then finding the rhythm he liked. His head tipped back, eyes half-shut, lips parting in those little moans I’d come to crave.

But this time… something changed.

His gaze dropped down. Not to my hand, not to his cock, but lower—right to the tent in my shorts. I felt my face burn hot.

“You know…” he murmured, voice thick with arousal, “you can also take care of yourself here. It’s unfair to you.”

My chest tightened. I wanted to argue, pretend I didn’t need it—but my cock was throbbing too much to lie. Without another word, I shoved my hand under my waistband and gripped myself. The relief was instant.

“Fuck,” I groaned, stroking myself fast, precum coating my fingers. My body jolted with pleasure, every nerve lit.

Troye smirked, eyes glued to me. “Hey! You have two hands, don’t forget me.”

I almost laughed, panting. “Sorry—only one’s the good one.” I shifted, keeping one hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him steady, my other fist working my own length under my shorts.

It was insane—the sound of both of us jerking off at once, lube squelching, skin slapping faintly. His moans tangled with mine until the air itself felt heavy with sex.

Then Troye tilted his head, eyes locked on me. “Connor…”

“What?” I croaked.

“You’re hard as fuck.” His voice was awe and hunger rolled into one. He licked his lips, then asked, “Can I… touch it?”

I froze, my cock twitching in my hand. My brain screamed no, but my body leaned toward yes. Before I could answer, he lifted his casted arm and used his left hand—shaky but determined—to reach over.

He wrapped his fingers around my cock. The touch was clumsy, weak, but fuck—it was Troye. My best friend, stroking me.

“I’ll thank you properly,” he whispered, dragging his palm up and down my shaft.

I hissed at the sensation, my body jerking. It felt incredible, but I could see the strain in his face, the way his wrist trembled. He was pushing through the pain.

“Stop,” I said suddenly, grabbing his hand to still it.

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because it hurts you. I can finish you, Troye—it’s fine.” My chest heaved, torn between need and worry.

But he shook his head, a stubborn glint in his eyes. “It’s unfair. You always take care of me.”

Before I could argue, he shifted again. His good foot slid across the sheets, pressing against my thigh, then lower… until his toes brushed my cock through my damp boxers. My whole body jolted.

“Troye—”

“Shut up,” he whispered. “It doesn’t hurt this way.”

And then he started moving his foot. Pressing, rubbing, jerking me with his arch and toes while I kept my hand on his cock. It was messy, slippery with precum soaking through the fabric, but fuck—it felt dirty and hot in a way that made my stomach twist with lust.

“Oh Fuck” I groaned, pumping him harder, my body grinding against his foot without meaning to.

We turned, lying side by side on his bed, facing each other. My fist slid over his slick shaft, his cock twitching with every stroke. His foot stroked me in slow, steady motions, precum smearing everywhere.

Our eyes locked. Heavy, burning eye contact that felt more intimate than anything we’d done. Neither of us looked away.

The sound of it all filled the room—the squelch of lube, our ragged breathing, the wet slap of skin. Precum dripped between us, smearing across my thigh, his cock, even his sheets.

“Connor—fuck—I’m close,” he gasped, his body shaking under my hand.

“Me too,” I groaned, bucking into his foot, my cock leaking uncontrollably.

We didn’t stop. Faster, tighter, desperate, staring into each other’s eyes like we were daring the other to break first.

And then it hit—hard. Troye’s body tensed, cock exploding in my grip, cum spurting across his stomach and dripping onto my hand. The sight of it, the sound of his moan, pushed me over the edge.

I cried out as I came, shooting into his foot, onto my own stomach, hot strings of cum covering both of us in messy streaks.

We collapsed side by side, sweaty, panting, covered in each other’s release. The air reeked of sex. My heart thumped so hard it hurt.

Troye let out a shaky laugh, staring at the mess between us. “Fuck… we really just did that.”

I swallowed hard, still catching my breath, still rock hard in my head even though I’d just blown. “Yeah,” I whispered. “We did.”

And for the first time, it didn’t feel like just a favor anymore.