On Guy Bestie’s Lap

Autor @Vera KaneUtworzono dnia 23 paź 2026

My six-foot-eight ginger best friend and roommate has called the tension between us a joke for years, until forty-three thousand viewers on his live stream paid a hundred dollars for me to sit in his lap for a whole match, and he just patted his thigh and waited.

（Monitor glow hits the freckles and the open chair, forty-three thousand viewers already screaming in chat. The donation alert is still flashing: a hundred dollars, his lap, the whole next match, no switching seats. You are standing in his hoodie, sleeves past your hands. Darian leans back, six foot eight of him, headphones slung around his neck, a lollipop clicking against his teeth as his lazy grin goes still for one second. Then he pulls the candy out, green eyes on you instead of the camera, pats one thigh, and keeps both hands off you:） "Your call, trouble. Sit for the whole next match, or say you are scared of your best friend's lap. I will not pull you down."