#4447

Mick is watching some shitty sitcom on a streaming service he’d never heard of, one that Lewis insisted had all his favorite shows. He can hear Lewis’s approaching steps and expects the older man to come sit next to him. Instead, Lewis stands behind the couch and leans over it, wrapping his arms around Mick’s neck and planting several kisses on his cheek. Mick laughs, because it tickles, and Lewis is so sappy sometimes, so sweet.

Lewis doesn’t even say hello first, not before one of his hands is snaking down Mick’s chest and landing on his groin, squeezing the soft length in his jeans.

It makes Mick gasp, both in confusion and pleasant surprise, remembering the talk they’d had about this. He would definitely have to get used to the fact that Lewis wasn’t going to give him a warning first. His eyes are wide, bright and baby blue, lips parted slightly as he looks at Lewis for guidance, which he isn’t going to give, Mick is pretty sure.

Lewis has to contain his own excitement at the look on his boyfriend’s face, coy and innocent. Lewis keeps touching him, squeezing and stroking him slowly, lips hovering over Mick’s. Mick is always so pliant and so trusting of him, Lewis can’t help but want to take advantage sometimes.

Lewis pulls away once Mick is fully hard, walking slowly around the couch to finally meet him, stopping in front of him. Mick looks like a deer in headlights, watching his every move. Lewis undoes his own belt first, only the sound of his rings clinking against his buckle and Mick’s ragged breathing could be heard. Lewis motions with his chin for Mick to do the same.

Mick follows along with shaky hands and undoes his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down to his knees.

Lewis wants to ruin him, just from the sheer love and obedience he radiates.

Lewis prepared for this by stretching himself beforehand, that way he could take Mick whenever he wanted. He takes out something from his pocket before pushing his pants down, throwing a packet of lube right next to Mick. Lewis takes his shirt off too, leaving him completely bare for Mick. He watches as Mick stares and looks at him whole, eyes scanning every tattoo and every muscle.

Mick is much more turned on than he’d expected. He still feels a little shaky and nervous, but with Lewis being so sure of himself, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Mick’s eyes land on the lube and he grabs it, tearing it open with his teeth. He knows the drill and understands wordlessly what Lewis wants. He spreads his knees a bit and grips his length, stroking himself in languid movements of his fist while he pours the lube on his cock, making the slide of his hand slippery.

Lewis is hard, too, though he’s not touching himself. He’s waiting, making sure Mick is ready before he pounces. He looks pretty like this, unsure and moving slow, looking to Lewis for assurance. Mick surprises him when he pats his lap with his free hand, signaling for Lewis to come closer. It’s the only motivation he needs to climb onto Mick’s lap and kiss him deeply, both hands cupping either side of his face, licking hotly into his mouth.

Lewis practically tears the white cotton shirt off of Mick, even though he loves the way it hugs his torso so tightly. He reaches down to touch Mick again, feeling how heavy and warm the length was, arguably his favorite part of Mick. Lewis steadies himself on his knees and leans forward, kissing Mick again to distract him from what he was doing below, guiding the head to his entrance and pressing it into himself without a struggle.

Lewis lets out a breathy moan as he sinks down, arms wrapping loosely around Mick’s neck while Mick’s hands found their rightful place on Lewis’s waist. Lewis struggles to hold himself together, especially when he hadn’t even asked if they could do this. It felt wrong, even though he knew Mick would do anything for him.

Mick was in awe of the man above him, taking his whole cock without complaint. He’d never thought he’d meet someone who wanted him this badly, so much so that he didn’t even want to ask to have him, just wanted to have him whenever he could. Mick mimics Lewis’s arms and wraps his around the older man’s waist, pressing them flush against each other.

Lewis moves his hips in measured figure eights, his cock leaking profusely between them, barely getting any friction. He pulls away just a little, just to watch Mick’s face contort in pleasure. He could do this all day, ride him nice and slow, make him come over and over until he couldn’t anymore. Lewis gyrates faster, pressing his forehead against Mick’s.

Mick was teetering on the edge, letting out soft gasps and puffing out breaths against Lewis’s face, prompting Mick to kiss him again. Lewis’s hands were all over him, tangled in his hair and feeling down his chest. It made his skin flush a deep red, like freshly picked cherries and dusty dried roses. Mick’s fingers press harshly into Lewis’s flesh, moving back to grip his thighs, guiding him up and down on his cock.

Lewis can tell Mick needs more, and he obeys easily by moving with a little more intent, his noises turning whiny as he felt Mick’s cock press into his sweet spot over and over. He’s close too, worked up from the fact that he was finally doing what he wanted, using Mick for his own pleasure.

It isn’t enough, of course, Mick always wants more. Mick only takes a second to move them into a new position, pressing Lewis into the couch and starting to fuck into him with snappy thrusts. He hears Lewis get even louder beneath him, whimpering whenever he’d hit his prostate dead on.

Lewis doesn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky. He didn’t have to say anything for Mick to know what he was thinking, what he needed. He can feel himself squeezing uncontrollably around him, tight like a vice. Lewis’s hands are cupping Mick’s face again, pulling him down for another sloppy, desperate kiss.

Lewis mewls against his mouth and throws his head back, fingers digging into Mick’s shoulder as he found his rhythm.

Mick has his hands on the couch, on either side of Lewis’s head, finding little purchase on the fabric as his thrusts became frantic, spurred on by Lewis’s reaction to his movements. Mick brings a hand between them to take hold of Lewis’s weeping cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

Lewis lets out a choked noise, his voice high-pitched. Mick’s hands feel like heaven on his sensitive dick, and it only takes a few strokes to have him coming all over himself, hips twitching and lifting off the couch as his orgasm hit him.

Mick made a valiant effort to keep going, to fuck Lewis until they were nothing but soft sobs and tangled limbs, but seeing Lewis feel so good pushed him over the edge. Mick let out one last groan before bottoming out completely, filling Lewis to the brim with come.

Lewis’s cock jerked at the feeling of Mick coming inside of him, legs tightening around Mick to keep him in place.

Mick slumped over him as lightly as he could, breathing harshly against Lewis’s neck. “That was..”

“Incredible.” Lewis finished. He gently lifted Mick’s head from his neck and kissed him gently, eyes looking over his face to try and detect any ounce of regret or shame on Mick’s expression.

“I love you,” Mick said easily, putting his hand over Lewis’s on his cheek, stroking his skin warmly.

“I love you more,” Lewis insists.

Lewis does not think about control the same way Mick does.

Lewis is the polite, easygoing, always-knows-what-to-say kind of person that Mick often pretended to be.

Lewis takes charge when he has to. He doesn’t care if his waitress doesn’t put enough sugar in his coffee or if a reporter gets a little too comfortable with him. These are trivial things to him, things that take up unnecessary space in his mind when he could be thinking of more important things, things like Mick.

Lewis knows Mick is a bit.. tightly wound about certain things. It freaks the younger man out to not be sure, to not know. He spent a lot of time getting Mick out of that habit, the one where he always needed to be sure that things would work out. Lewis knows it came with age, his apathy towards the chaos of the universe. After caring so deeply about every aspect of himself, down to every curl on his head and every freckle on his face, he’d decided to be done with it. It didn’t serve him to concern himself over things he’d never be able to change, thoughts that other people had, opinions and false statements and news articles that made him out to be something he wasn’t, none of it mattered.

None of it mattered when Mick gave himself up so easily.

Lewis looks at him a certain way and Mick knows he needs to be on his knees, undressed, mouth open.

Lewis says one word and Mick just does.

Lewis‘s face is pushed into the soft pillows on Mick’s bed, the linens smelling of honey almond shampoo and that Gucci perfume he’d gotten him a few months ago. His ass is up in the air, Mick’s face tucked between his cheeks, lapping and drooling and sucking, making Lewis’s thighs shake and his cock twitch with the need to come, his entrance fluttering around the undulating motion of Mick’s tongue. Lewis pushed his hips back to get him deeper, a hand reaching back to grab a fistful of Mick’s hair, keeping him in place.

“Fuck, Mickie,” Lewis whined, breathless and high-pitched.

Mick hummed against him, reaching down to grope the length between Lewis’s thighs, stroking him slow, just how he liked it. There was plenty of spit to make his hand glide with no friction, fingers tracing the steel of Lewis’s frenum piercing. He loved getting him like this, putty in his hands, only worried about chasing his own end. Mick pulled away after a few moments, panting, his patience running out.

“Are you gonna fuck daddy good and hard, Mickie?” Lewis purred after a beat of silence, spreading his knees a bit wider to give Mick more room.

Mick felt himself blush at the casual way Lewis referred to himself as daddy, still not used to and even slightly resistant to the name. He hadn’t wanted to feed into the joke that Lewis was his sugar daddy, especially not to the public. He hated that people thought he was that shallow, that he was only with Lewis for his money. Despite his inhibitions, Mick scooted up right behind Lewis and reached for the bottle of lube just beside them, generously pouring some onto his cock and even more onto Lewis’s entrance.

“Yes, daddy,” Mick said obediently, looking back up at Lewis, reluctant.

Lewis could’ve come just from hearing Mick oblige his silly fantasies, just from seeing the timid, coy look in his eyes. “You’re gonna take good care of me, just like I take care of you, right, my love?” He continued, gasping as Mick pushed the head against him, prompting him to turn his gaze forward again; the younger man was obviously eager to slip inside of him.

Mick couldn’t even get the words out, too much blood rushing South for his brain to work. He nodded frantically and pushed his hips forward slowly, inching himself into his boyfriend.

“I asked you a question,” Lewis said sternly, punctuated by a moan as Mick fully sheathed himself inside of him.

“Yes, daddy,” Mick said through gritted teeth, gripping both of Lewis’s hips so he had something to grab onto while he thrusted, slow and deep strokes that made Lewis mewl hotly.

“Good boy,” Lewis praised, gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles looked pale, pushing back against every thrust to get him even deeper. “Fuck me harder, Mickie,” he coaxed softly. Mick needed the push sometimes, especially when he was so convinced Lewis was fragile, on top of his fear of doing something wrong. Lewis, on the other hand, wanted to feel all of Mick’s mistakes and feel the full brunt of his thrusts, wanted Mick to open up and share every part of himself rather than be so perfect all the time.

It did something wild to him, being called a good boy by Lewis, something burning hot blooming in Mick’s chest and making it hard to breathe. It was a conflicting feeling, to want so badly to defy what Lewis wanted and fuck him slow until the sun shined through their windows, versus the primal instinct in him to breed him like he deserved, like Lewis begged him to do. Mick knew, in the end, he had to give himself up to the fact that Lewis knew best. Lewis knew him inside out and would never lead him astray.

Mick’s grip tightened on Lewis’s hips, the only warning Lewis got before he drew his hips back and slammed them forward, once, twice, until his rhythm was fast, off-beat, driven by his lust.

Lewis yelped in surprise when Mick obeyed, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing loudly in the room. “Mick,” he groaned and shut his eyes, reveling in every jolt of pleasure and pain.

Mick’s moans were shaky and soft, still too afraid to really let go. “Daddy,” he huffed. “A-Am I hurting you?” He asked, unsure, stammering it out.

“N-No, no,” Lewis choked out. “You’re perfect, Mickie, I promise,” Lewis sighed, small whimpers escaping his mouth as Mick pistoned into him. “So big,” he mewled.

Mick panted with every forward movement of his hips, fingers digging deep into Lewis’s skin. Mick made a mental note to kiss all the bruises he’d be leaving, one of his favorite things to do after it was all said and done. “Can I come inside you, daddy? Please?” He begged softly, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. He still hated the way the name sounded coming from his own mouth, but Lewis seemed to be eating it right up.

“Yeah, yes, please,” Lewis mewled, trying hard to stay in it while he was getting his guts rearranged, looking back at the blonde over his shoulder as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

Mick let out a whiny noise, face beet red as Lewis looked at him for his answer. “Shit,” Mick grunted, thrusts becoming shallow and sloppy as he came, making it feel impossibly hot, smooth and silky around his cock.

Lewis couldn’t be mad, not when Mick tried in earnest to give him what he wanted. He loved the feeling of his come shooting inside of him, in love with how it felt as it seeped out around Mick’s cock and trickled down his balls. “That’s it,” he purred, not making a move to pull away, still aching to be filled up. “Daddy felt too good, huh?” Lewis teased softly and reached back to grab one of the hands that was gripping his flesh for dear life, bringing it down underneath him so Mick could finish him off. “Don’t move, okay? Just touch me,” he instructed.

Lewis started moving his hips again, this time being careful with his movements, impaling himself on the divine cock attached to his lover. He moved his hips in slow circles, the motion making it easy for Mick to stroke him in rhythm.

It was a sight to behold, Lewis fucking himself while Mick trembled with oversensitivity, trying his best to be good and stay still so Lewis could work. “Daddy,” he groaned, purposely saying it to rile Lewis up.

Lewis keened in response to Mick being perfect for him, like he always was, stiffening below him and coming all over his fist and all over Mick’s sheets.

For a moment, all that could be heard was harsh breathing, Lewis collapsing forward onto the bed and subsequently pulling off of Mick, feeling sore in all the right places.

“Please never stop calling me that,” Lewis said breathlessly, eyes closing briefly, focusing on his getting enough air to his lungs.

Mick watched the older man fall forward on his tummy, shamelessly scooping up the come that was threatening to leak out of his entrance and fucking it back into him with his fingers. “Daddy loves it when I come inside him, doesn’t he?” Mick said without addressing Lewis’s request, leaning over him to whisper it in his ear, beating Lewis at his own game with his dirty talk.

Lewis’s breath caught in his throat for many reasons, including the fact that Mick was being so obscene about having his come dripping out of him, more so at the feeling of two fingers scissoring him back open. “You know I do,” he responded easily, tilting his head to the side when Mick began to kiss just behind his ear. “Will you do it again, Mickie?” Lewis asked sweetly.

Mick knew he would ask, because Lewis was always insatiable, always needed to milk him dry or leave him limping for days.