The world around Dylan grew stifling as Theo, oblivious to his tiny passenger, continued dressing. The air thickened, the heat intensifying as layers of clothing piled on. Dylan squirmed, still pinned in the tight cotton of Theo’s underwear, his tiny body pressed against the warm, smooth crevice of Theo’s ass. The faint soapy scent mingled with that raw, musky undertone, and Dylan’s head swam with the overwhelming mix.
“Oh, man, it’s getting hot in here,” Dylan muttered, his voice barely a squeak against the fabric. “What’s he doing? Layering up for the Arctic? I’m gonna cook!” His tiny hands pushed futilely at the cotton, but it held him fast, like a relentless prison.
A muffled rustle vibrated through the fabric as Theo pulled on pants, the added pressure squeezing Dylan tighter against the massive cheek. The heat spiked, a smothering wave that made Dylan’s skin prickle. “Jeans? Seriously?” Dylan groaned, his voice tinged with desperation. “Theo, you’re killing me here! Don’t you ever go commando?”
Suddenly, Theo’s voice boomed from above, distant but clear, shaking Dylan’s world. “Gotta hit the library for some late-night studying,” Theo muttered to himself, his tone focused but casual. The words sent a jolt of panic through Dylan.
“Library? Library?!” Dylan squeaked, his heart racing. “Theo, no, no, no! You can’t go out like this! I’m stuck in your freaking underwear!” His tiny fists pounded against the skin, but it was like punching a warm, immovable mountain.
Then, with a lurch that made Dylan’s stomach flip, Theo bent down to grab his backpack. The motion yanked the underwear tighter, dragging Dylan deeper into the crevice. His face pressed alarmingly close to the coarse hairs framing Theo’s hole, the earthy tang growing sharper, more intimate. Dylan’s nose twitched, and he froze, his cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and dread.
“Oh, crap, too close!” Dylan yelped, his voice muffled. “Theo, you giant idiot, stand up! Stand up now! I’m practically in your—ngh!” He wriggled, managing to inch back just enough to avoid total disaster, but the heat and pressure were relentless. “This is not where I signed up to be!”
Theo straightened, oblivious, and started walking. Each step sent Dylan bouncing against the massive cheek, the cotton keeping him pinned but knocking him around like a ragdoll. “Oof—ow—gah!” Dylan grunted with each stride. “It’s like being in a freaking washing machine! Theo, slow down!”
The rhythm steadied as Theo left the room, the faint creak of a door giving way to the hum of the outside world. Dylan’s ears pricked at the sound of voices—muffled, distant, but unmistakably a crowd. “Where’s he at? A bus stop?” Dylan muttered, straining to listen. A low rumble grew louder, accompanied by the hiss of brakes. “Oh, no. A bus? Theo, you’re taking me on public transport?!”
Theo’s steps resumed, and Dylan braced himself, jostled with each movement. Then, with a sudden thud, Theo sat down. The impact slammed Dylan hard against the cheek, the warm skin pressing against him like a giant, unyielding wall. The cotton stretched taut, trapping him in place, and the musky warmth enveloped him completely.
“Gah! Theo, you suck!” Dylan wheezed, his voice barely audible. “This is worse than a rollercoaster! My face is, like, one with your butt right now!” He squirmed, the heat and pressure overwhelming, but there was no escape. The faint earthy scent from deeper in the crevice teased his senses, and he groaned. “This is so gross… but, like, why doesn’t it smell worse? Ugh, brain, stop it!”
The bus ride was mercifully short, the low hum of the engine and occasional chatter of passengers filtering through. Then, with another jarring shift, Theo stood, and Dylan gasped as the pressure eased slightly. “Oh, thank God,” he panted. “I was about to become a permanent resident of Buttville.”
Theo’s steps resumed, steady and purposeful, carrying Dylan through what felt like an eternity of jostling. A faint creak signaled another door, and the world grew quieter, the air cooler. “Library,” Dylan muttered, piecing it together. “He’s actually at the library. Okay, maybe he’ll sit still now. I can figure this out… maybe.”
But Theo didn’t stop. Dylan felt the subtle sway of stairs beneath him, each step bouncing him against the cheek. “Stairs? Really?” Dylan whined. “Theo, you’re killing me! Pick a spot already!”
Finally, Theo entered what sounded like a study room, the faint shuffle of papers and the creak of a chair signaling his arrival. Then, with another bone-rattling thud, Theo sat down again. Dylan was smashed back into the crevice, the warm skin and taut cotton pinning him in place. The musky undertone hit him again, stronger now, and he groaned, half-panicked, half-resigned.
“Ow! Theo, you giant jerk!” Dylan squeaked, his voice muffled. “I’m, like, one inch from your—ugh, I can’t even say it!” He wriggled, but the pressure was unrelenting. The faint soapy warmth was still there, but the earthy tang from deeper in was impossible to ignore. “This is so weird. It’s not… awful, but it’s way too personal!”
Theo’s voice broke through again, calm and focused. “Okay, let’s get studying,” he said, the words vibrating through Dylan’s world.
“Studying?!” Dylan yelped. “You’re gonna sit here for hours, aren’t you? Theo, I’m begging you, feel me or something! I’m stuck in your freaking crack!” His tiny hands pushed at the skin, but it was no use. The heat, the pressure, the scent—it was all too much. “I have no clue what to do,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “I’m trapped in a giant’s underwear, and he’s about to study, I’m so screwed.”
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