5 part something of randy being a fucking weirdo about chubbier benson .
randy flat in the sheets of another hotel room like a pressed flower , milky skin shining with the flashes of yellow,blue, white that pass by the window . spread apart like a butterfly, pinned by the needles that are benson's hands on his shoulderblades, benson's knees pressed down onto his calves .
curving like a crescent moon to perfectly fit his back against the pudge of the older's belly, slotting together like puzzle pieces . it's all warmth against his spine, the tickle of hair here and there . the mattress dips with it, swallows him up and he feels so, so safe and kept under the weight .
benson rubs against him like a lazy cat , every movement slow and lazy and maybe also just there to rile him up . sways those hips from left to right just to allow randy to feel the ghost of a bulge — not even hard — against the curve of his ass . scratches the wiry hair of his beard against his cheek , his throat , until randy is mewling and writhing underneath him like an eel .
the weight just settles further , presses until randy is inhaling big mouthfuls of nothing but sheets , spilling his drool into them .
they're out by some lake , weeds high and mighty green around the water's edge . the heat keeps swelling, thick waves of it rolling through the air until it presses down on them .
randy would rather sweat through every single piece of clothing he has than spare too many glances towards that water . it reminds him too much of being a child and then a teen, stuck at the public swimming pool . feeling like a ghost and not looking much different , either . lanky , a sickly sort of pale that never seems to want to leave and instead would just turn into an angry red . all his mother's comments about this and that bone poking out .
benson, on the other hand , sheds his layers fairly quickly . throws his tank and drops pants and socks and boots until he's in nothing but tight fitted boxers .
randy watches out of the corner of his eyes, pretends not to pay attention while he's ripping one blade of grass out of the earth after the other . feels his mouth go dry when he sees the leftover pattern of elastic on benson's stomach — every little ridge and high where it's been digging into his skin all day . feels it turn into even more of a desert when benson walks closer to egg him on, steps just close enough for randy's view to be nothing but thick, hairy thighs and the dangle of his hands .
before he even thinks about it , there's an open, pink mouth pressed to just underneath the orher's belly button. tongue swiping left and right to taste the sweat from his skin, rubbing itself raw against the darkness of his happy trail .
the car creaks with the weight of their earned belongings from around the states . stolen goods , bottles of water , food , whatever clothes they've knicked and paid for from thrifr stores and garage sales .
benson's arms flex when he lifts another pack of the cheapest kind of water they could find into the back . there's no real definition of muscle, just one solid curve that randy can spot , but it's enough to get some heat under his collar .
he's watched it too often ; the way benson moves, how he always allows his limbs to thud down on whatever surface as if they must weigh a ton . a rude thing to do, especially when they are out dining , but he never says anything about it .
imagines it then ; those arms wrapping steady around his throat, pulling him into benson's side as they have done so often . lower this time , though — into the sweaty pit of his arm or the bit of skin he can see at the cutout of his tank . all the good , fleshy bits where it would be easy to sink his teeth into and chew and chew and chew .
benson snaps his fingers at him, shakes his arm for the blonde to come running and randy still thinks about the slow jiggle of that arm when he's already curled up in the passengers side and chewing on his nails .
knees scuffing on the floor , rubbed rouge and raw from benson's newest sort of punishment . making him kneel, making him crawl after him to apologize for what he's done. by the hundreth time of begging and a solid flash of pain in randy's belly from holding in his piss for too long — benson finally stops walking away from him .
cradles the back of his skull like a baby's and presses him nose first into the zipper of his pants , rubs his nose raw against the sharp zigzags and the metal of his button .
randy tries to murmur again, plead for benson to let him stand because his legs have turned into jello . instead , he is muffled into his stomach . the flesh dips easy under the pressure of his face , stops the air he could be sucking in through his nose at least .
every whine just turns into vibrations and benson keeps him there , presses the toe of his boot to his bladder.
but randy keeps mouthing across his belly, rubbing his tongue from love handles up towards the fat of his pecs. grabs fistfuls of benson that earn him nothing but hisses and tugs at his pretty blonde hair .
slurps loud and too needy when he's got his lips wrapped around a bud , fingers kneeding into his side .
crawls up and up with the excuse of wanting another kiss before he fits benson into his mouth . instead, he's pressing his hard on right to where his hands had been , grinds himself off against benson's stomach until he's leaking and smearing pre through his body hair .
has the audacity to squeeze plumpness between his grabby palms and try to fuck into the cleft of it until benson calls him a pathetic, perverted dog and shoves him right back south where he belongs .
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