Dylan hit the table’s base, panting, and darted across the carpet, aiming for Tim’s bedroom door to sate his curiosity. But James shifted on the couch, his leg swinging down, and Dylan tripped, tumbling into a fold of James’s shorts. He scrambled free, landing on the giant’s inner thigh, the lean muscle warm and firm beneath him. “Not good,” Dylan muttered, clinging to the coarse hairs.
Before he could move, the front door creaked, and Tim lumbered back into the living room, his hairy legs like furry pillars in his loose shorts. The chubby giant grabbed a soda from the fridge, his backpack slung carelessly on the couch. James glanced up, grinning. “Yo, Tim, you done studying already?”
“Nah, just needed caffeine,” Tim rumbled, his voice a deep growl. He plopped onto the couch beside James, the impact jostling Dylan. Now trapped between James’s lean thigh and Tim’s thick, hairy one, Dylan felt like a speck in a giant’s world. Tim’s leg was a jungle of coarse fur, the skin beneath warm and slightly sweaty, while James’s thigh twitched with every shift, threatening to crush him.
“Gotta pick a direction,” Dylan whispered, his spear useless against the giants’ oblivious bulk. He could climb James’s inner thigh, navigating the sensitive skin toward the shorts’ hem, risking a reaction from the giant. Or he could leap to Tim’s hairy leg, crawling through the dense fur toward the loose shorts, where the chubby giant’s movements might offer cover—or crush him.
“Two big bastards, zero clue,” Dylan hissed, his curiosity about Tim warring with survival. The heat of their thighs, the pulse of their bodies, made every choice a provocative risk.
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