[Whatever he was expecting to happen, this wasn’t it. He should have been prepared. They’ve been playing this game and taunting each other all night. But he wasn’t. Not even close. This line they were crossing. It felt forbidden, dangerous. They weren’t technically brothers but they were brothers to each other in all the ways that mattered. They had just begun making strides in repairing their relationship and here they were setting off a fucking nuclear bomb right in the middle of it.
The atmosphere in the room changes. It feels heavy and charged, an undercurrent of electricity humming through through the air. Michael squeezes his eyes shut as Max’s somehow stupidly expert tongue drags across his nipple. He tries to think of something else, anything-dead puppies, Sanders naked, Alex leaving with Deep Sky-to distract from the hot slide of Max’s tongue, the sweet burn from the salt and the ghosting of his breath sending shivers up his spine. But then Max is biting down and all desperate attempts to distract himself are gone. His eyes snap open and he inhales sharply, watching Max on his knees in front of him, his pink mouth wrapped around Michael’s nipple and he feels the pull of Max’s teeth all the way down to his cock. Shit.]
His fingers twitch with the urge to bury themselves in Max’s hair and hold him there. Get it the fuck together, Guerin. But then Max is pushing himself off his knees and leaning in. Michael is careful not to move, he doesn’t even breathe as Max licks the lime juice from his lips. It would be so easy to close the distance between them, to pull Max into his lap but the game they were playing was dangerous and Michael wasn’t sure he knew the rules anymore.
When Max pulls away, Michael grabs the bottle from him without a word and drinks deep. Hoping the burn of the alcohol would help clear his head.]
You bastard. [He’s proud that he manages to keep his voice mostly steady as he hands the bottle back to Max, and shifts in his seat, his cock is half hard already against his jeans and judging from the bulge in Max’s pants, Michael wasn’t the only one affected by that little display.
Now it’s his turn to look smug.]
How did that work out for you there, big guy?
[Staring at Max, he licks his lips, tongue darting out to taste Max mixed with the smooth taste of tequila. Suddenly, he wants to know what Max’s cock tastes like against the back of his throat, what it feels like hot and heady against his tongue. Fuck.
Nope. No. No.
He’s just horny. It’s been too long since he’s been with anyone. He can pull himself together and get himself off when Max leaves or falls asleep.]
And don’t get me wrong. I’m versatile. Happily. But sometimes you just need to get on your knees and have someone fuck your face you know? Or have someone take control and fuck you until it hurts.
no subject
The atmosphere in the room changes. It feels heavy and charged, an undercurrent of electricity humming through through the air. Michael squeezes his eyes shut as Max’s somehow stupidly expert tongue drags across his nipple. He tries to think of something else, anything-dead puppies, Sanders naked, Alex leaving with Deep Sky-to distract from the hot slide of Max’s tongue, the sweet burn from the salt and the ghosting of his breath sending shivers up his spine. But then Max is biting down and all desperate attempts to distract himself are gone. His eyes snap open and he inhales sharply, watching Max on his knees in front of him, his pink mouth wrapped around Michael’s nipple and he feels the pull of Max’s teeth all the way down to his cock. Shit.]
His fingers twitch with the urge to bury themselves in Max’s hair and hold him there. Get it the fuck together, Guerin. But then Max is pushing himself off his knees and leaning in. Michael is careful not to move, he doesn’t even breathe as Max licks the lime juice from his lips. It would be so easy to close the distance between them, to pull Max into his lap but the game they were playing was dangerous and Michael wasn’t sure he knew the rules anymore.
When Max pulls away, Michael grabs the bottle from him without a word and drinks deep. Hoping the burn of the alcohol would help clear his head.]
You bastard. [He’s proud that he manages to keep his voice mostly steady as he hands the bottle back to Max, and shifts in his seat, his cock is half hard already against his jeans and judging from the bulge in Max’s pants, Michael wasn’t the only one affected by that little display.
Now it’s his turn to look smug.]
How did that work out for you there, big guy?
[Staring at Max, he licks his lips, tongue darting out to taste Max mixed with the smooth taste of tequila. Suddenly, he wants to know what Max’s cock tastes like against the back of his throat, what it feels like hot and heady against his tongue. Fuck.
Nope. No. No.
He’s just horny. It’s been too long since he’s been with anyone. He can pull himself together and get himself off when Max leaves or falls asleep.]
And don’t get me wrong. I’m versatile. Happily. But sometimes you just need to get on your knees and have someone fuck your face you know? Or have someone take control and fuck you until it hurts.