Benito laughed sleepily and braced himself to move away. “Sorry—”
“Shh.” Mickey held him in place. “I like it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Not with everyone, but definitely with you.”
Benito circled his hips again, a little harder this time, his body waking up and aligning with wherever his head was at. His length hardened, adding pressure and friction to his movements.
Amazingpressure and friction.
Mickey inhaled a shaky breath and went with it, cutting himself free from the last remaining ties to earth. He arched his neck, giving Benito access to his throat, and pressed back against Benito’s dick, inviting him, without words, to do whatever he wanted.
Benito groaned. “You’re fucking killing me.”
“Don’t die, bro.”
“I don’t want to. I want—I want to fuck you. Is that okay? Or have I read this wrong?”
“You haven’t read it wrong.”
Benito shuddered and nuzzled Mickey’s neck. The gesture was sweet and intimate, and hotter than hell. Mickey’s pulse banged against his eardrums, chaotic and loud.
“I want it,” he blurted, in case he hadn’t been clear.
Benito disappeared for a moment, rolling away to fumble in Mickey’s drawers. He came back with lube, a condom, and poppers.
He pressed the cold metal bottle into Mickey’s hand. “If you need them.”
There was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that he would. He wasn’t a natural bottom, and it had been... fuck, he didn’t even know, since he’d last taken a dick inside him, and Benito wasbig.
Thick.
Hard.
Fucking hell.
Benito rubbed Mickey’s forearm. Mickey had missed him returning to the space behind him and moulding their bodies together again. “We don’t have to, you know. I love what we already do. I fucking need that shit in my life.”
Mickey hummed. “I need it too, but I’ve been dreaming about being with you like this. I want it—I want you.”
Benito’s eyes shone brightly in the darkness. Sometimes they didn’t get round to these moments, life seemed to move too fast, but as Benito stared and Mickey gazed back, the world was as perfect as it had ever been.
They kissed, then Benito moved behind him, aligning himself with Mickey’s body again, slick with lube and sheathed in a condom. He trailed fingers over Mickey’s hole.
Mickey pushed them away. “I wantyou.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Mickey exhaled a trembling breath and unscrewed the lid of the poppers bottle.
Benito replaced his fingers with his cock and pressed, slow and steady, against the resistance Mickey’s body threw up in his path.
Tense pain spread through Mickey. He grimaced and brought the poppers to his nose, inhaling deeply, chasing the tingling rush that would help himrelaxand let Benito in.
It hit him in a slow wave. Warmth and fear fought for dominance, and warmth won. Discomfort ebbed away, beaten back by Mickey’s pounding heart.
He let go, and Benito rode the wave, sliding into him until he was buried deep.