#maimon

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The night is quiet in a way Simon hasn't known in years. There's no over-excited children or dogs barking, no creaking metal or dripping water. He can hear the murmur of distant conversation, the soft music of someone playing a guitar, but that's all; everything else is just from here, in this room. From him, and Markus.

It's a quiet that draws attention to his every move - the creak of the bed as he climbs into it, and the whisper of cotton on cotton as he gets comfortable under the duvet. He doesn't need comfort, doesn't need to wear an oversized t-shirt to bed, but the last few years have taught him a lot about valuing the things he wants regardless of whether he needs them.

Markus has a lot to do with that, just like Markus is the reason he isn't wearing anything under the t-shirt.

"Hey," Markus says, nuzzling his nose against Simon's own. It's cold, and Simon finds himself smiling, though he's not sure why.

"Hey," Simon replies. He still can't quite believe that this is his life, now - that he gets to spend time alone with this man, this beautiful android that he loves. That here, at least, they're free.

There's still fighting to be done, but they don't need to hide anymore. The only reason they're alone in the dark of Markus' room is because they want to be, and they've earned their privacy.

Simon brings his hands up and rests them just shy of Markus' chest, licks his lips. "Did you like the party?"

"I like that you liked it," Markus says, diplomatic rather than honest. Simon huffs out a breath that isn't quite a laugh, taps his fingers against Markus' chest. As much as Markus is content to lead their kind, the thought of being anyone's idol makes him uncomfortable, and a few of the party-goers were unsubtle in their hero-worship.

"Next year will be better," Simon promises, and Markus' hand grips his waist, starts stroking from there to his hip. It's soothing, reminding him that he needs to idle soon.

"I don't think I'll ever like parties," Markus admits, "Carl never has. He'd rather stay at home, painting or reading. I think I can see why."

"Would you rather be painting or reading now?" Simon teases. It might be low-hanging fruit to pick for teasing, but it gets the desired reaction of Markus kissing him.

Simon's hands tingle where they rest on Markus' chest as a request to interface pops up, and Simon accepts it, allowing Markus to share the evening's highs and lows with him. It's flattering to skim through the footage and see how often Markus looked for him, how often Markus reviewed past recordings of him as distraction from dull conversations.

"Is this distracting enough for you?" Simon messages Markus along with a self-scan, showing Markus that there's nothing under his t-shirt but skin. A mere fraction of a second passes before Markus has him on his back, duvet crumpled at the foot of the bed and Simon's t-shirt rucked up to show off his chest, stomach, thighs.

"Simon," Markus says, reverent, and Simon spreads his legs wider to show off everything Markus wants to view.

Markus starts to dip his head, but Simon catches him by the chin, wanting no more than a quick fuck goodnight. Markus would eat him out for hours if he let him. "Not tonight, baby. Just fuck me."

Markus shoves his boxers down quickly, and Simon gladly puts both of his hands to use helping Markus get hard. It doesn't take long - he knows what Markus likes, how his balls aren't entirely decorative as they are for so many androids. Markus appreciates the sensation of having them gently tugged on and rolled between Simon's fingers and palm, and Simon loves the quiet sounds he draws out of Markus in the process, the soft grunts and hitched breaths.

Simon knows he's already wet when Markus slides two fingers into his cunt, but he takes them so easily it's almost embarrassing, Markus adding a third quickly even though he doesn't need stretching. It's more for Markus' reassurance than his own pleasure that Simon lets himself be fingered, and he stills Markus' hand with his own as soon as Markus is fully hard, pulls it free and links their fingers. "Fuck me," he repeats, insistent. There have been times when he's had Markus go slow, opening him up until he can take Markus' entire fist and come screaming, but tonight he just wants Markus in him fast and sweet, readying him for recharge mode in the best way possible.

"Promise you'll let me take my time tomorrow," Markus says, completely serious for a moment, and Simon reopens their interface through their linked fingers while leaning up to kiss him.

 "I know I'm being selfish. I'm exhausted. You can do whatever you want with me tomorrow."

Simon feels Markus' cock press against his cunt without pushing in, and grinds back against it, chasing that pressure.

 "Nothing's bothering you?"

Simon breaks the kiss with a frustrated sigh. "Markus, I love you, but if you don't -"

Simon is cut short when Markus pushes into him, filling him up until he'd strain to take any more. He loves having Markus' mouth on him, but nothing beats the connection he feels when Markus' fist or cock stretches him wide, and Simon hooks his arms under Markus' own to hold him close.

"Is that better?" Markus asks, and Simon laughs before kissing his way along the strong line of Markus' shoulders and up his neck until his lips are tingling from the sharp scratch of stubble. "You feeling good?"

"So good," Simon says, planting his feet firmly on the bed so he can tilt his hips up and let Markus sink deeper into him, and giving Markus one last kiss before lying back, letting his arms slip until his hands only loosely grip Markus' sides.

It's his cue for Markus to move, and Markus does, picking up speed until the bed is creaking beneath them, echoing Markus' thrusts. For some reason the sound makes him laugh, a giddy sort of joy bubbling up inside him that demands to be set loose, and Markus grins back as he pounds Simon into the mattress, giving him everything he wants and more.

Simon loves that smile. Markus' eyes light up whenever he smiles and means it, and right now there's a hint of mischief in them that shoots through Simon, makes his nipples and clit want attention.

"You're so handsome," Simon says, moving one hand between his legs to spread his lips wider than Markus' cock already has, and to keep them spread while his middle finger circles his clit.

"God, you're insatiable," Markus says, half-laughing.

"You make me insatiable," Simon replies, unashamed, and opens up an interface through the hand still gripping Markus' side, sending through footage of a few times when Markus had encouraged him to be impatient.

The time when an interviewer ran late and Markus used the spare ten minutes to fuck Simon silly in the studio's bathroom.

The time when Markus ate him out while he was trying to make breakfast for Carl, and refused to take responsibility for the overcooked pancakes.

The time Markus ate him out in the back of an automatic taxi on their way to Cyberlife.

"You're greedy too," Simon reminds him.

Markus loses his rhythm with the influx of images, and Simon sits up, letting Markus slip out of him before using the leverage of his weight to roll Markus onto his back. "Let me be good to you," Simon says, pressing a quick kiss to Markus' lips before straddling his thighs and sinking down onto Markus' cock.

Markus loves to watch him like this, and Simon has learned to love being watched, stretching luxuriously as he pulls the t-shirt off and tosses it aside. Simon's also sure the feeling is mutual, because he loves watching Markus' reactions to the roll of his hips, the way Markus hisses whenever Simon squeezes down deliberately.

Simon doesn't rush things, but he can feel the need to come drawing close. He could wait for Markus to come first, but he's wound so tight already and he's tired, so he plants a hand on the pillow by Markus' head, leans over him so Markus can get a better view of his face.

They both love watching each other come. It appeals to their hard-won vanity.

"Keep fucking me until you come, okay baby?" Simon says, moving his other hand back between his legs to finger his clit again. "I want you to come inside me. I want to feel it, okay?"

Markus nods, and Simon smiles at how eager to please Markus is, at how Markus wants to please him.

Simon doesn't last much longer. The naked adoration on Markus' face, the press of his cock deep inside, and the fast, rough circling of his own fingers around his clit are enough to finish him, and his breaths come so rapid-fire it feels like laughing, turns into laughter towards the end. He's giddy with relief, with satisfied arousal, with love, and he has to sit back just to enjoy the moment for a little while, resting with Markus still hard inside him.

Markus' hands move up to grip his waist, thumbs pressing gently into the slight swell of his stomach, and Simon relaxes into the touch, a beat passing before he makes eye contact with Markus.

"Hey," Simon says, still smiling.

"How you doing?" Markus sing-songs back at him, and Simon laughs before starting to rock his hips again, squeezing tight to make up for how wet he is now. The resulting low grunt he pulls out of Markus suggests the effort is appreciated, so Simon keeps it up until Markus' breaths sound strained and Simon can feel the hum of Markus' systems trying to cool him down.

"Let go, Markus," Simon says, fucking himself harder and harder on Markus' cock until the slapping of skin on skin is louder than the creaking of the bed. "Come in me. Come in me, baby, please."

It's a litany he can't help repeating as he rides Markus, his hands pawing at Markus' chest for leverage. His clit is still swollen and he's starting to wonder if he should try for a second orgasm when Markus' grip on his waist suddenly tightens, Markus' hips jerking up hard against his own.

Sometimes Markus is loud, but tonight he just breathes hard, brows drawn tight and jaw clenched. He almost looks pained, and Simon pushes the heels of his palms into Markus' chest to help ground him, lets Markus hold him in place for as long as he needs. "It's okay," Simon says, feeling the slick on his thighs starting to cool and dry now that they're both still. "You're so good to me."

Markus makes a noncommittal noise, picking up the t-shirt Simon had tossed aside earlier and pressing it gently against Simon's cunt before pulling out. The soft drag of cotton over his still-sensitive clit makes Simon shiver, but Markus is quick to clean up the mess they've made of each other. "That's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?" Markus asks.

Simon rolls his eyes while reaching for the duvet, pulling it up around them as he shifts to lie between Markus' legs, his head pillowed on Markus' chest. "You love compliments. Stop pretending you don't."

"Maybe I like being humble," Markus says, and Simon laughs, lets him have his moment.

As their breathing quietens, Simon finds himself taking in the stillness of the night. Markus' thirium pump hums under his ear, someone is still playing the guitar downstairs, and he's sure he can hear someone singing. It's the not quite silence of a busy home, and he owes so much of it to Markus. To himself, too, for finding his courage with Markus' guidance.

He's happy, he realises. He can keep this moment with him forever.

He rests a hand on Markus' stomach, opening an interface between them not to exchange memories or even hold a conversation, just to find out if the feeling is mutual.

It is. Markus' happiness runs parallel to his own, and Simon takes comfort in the knowledge that their future might be uncertain, but for now, at least, their present feels perfect.