#mirkle

“Hey, dude.” The familiar voice of the elder goth brought a little calm to the younger male, who turned to see the rather real-looking Freddy Kreuger costume the other wore. Damn, but if Michael didn’t look totally fuckable in that getup, he didn’t know who did (other than Robert Englund). “Hey, Michael.” Firkle offered, gulping down the anger in his voice to try and sound casual, “Nice look.” “Thanks, I figured you’d like it.” Michael shrugged, before playfully waggling his gloved fingers at the other, “These are real metal.” “But I bet they’re blunt as shit.” Rolling his eyes, the smaller, knife-obsessed goth huffed, “At least people can tell who you are.” “They aren’t, dude, not really…” Though Michael had to admit that they probably wouldn’t do much damage, even if he put his whole weight behind it, “What, nobody else recognizes the scarecrow from Husk?” Bright blue eyes suddenly focused on the elder male, and the eighteen year old jerked off his feet to throw himself into the elder’s arms, kissing him hard enough that there were a few people nearby that squeaked. He couldn’t do a good enough job with his mask on, though, and it left him underwhelmed and panting when he pulled back. At some point, Michael’s hands had slipped up underneath his rump, holding him in place as he’d climbed his tree of a friend. “You want to get that mask of-” “I want everything off.” Firkle mumbled, trying to press in for another kiss that was more than the scrape of burlap against their mouths. Considering Michael was always down for sex, especially with the gorgeous boy in his arms, he wasn’t surprised when his feet started carrying them towards the stairs to the basement. There was no doubt in his mind that there were already other couples getting it on, this party was fairly popular, and as he started down, tugging off Firkle’s mask, he found himself falling back on his ass. As soon as they were laying down, though, the other’s rump slotted against his hips and he gave a harsh grind upwards, his tongue playing over the smaller male’s lips. It was a mystery where his mask had gone the second he felt hands dip into the back of his costume, and Firkle couldn’t help the way his hips rounded down, a gasped moan leaving his companion. The zipper pulled down and his underwear down around his thighs, the younger goth groaned at the feeling of those warm, thin hands working over one firm globe of his ass. An undignified yelp left him as someone dropped four little packets of lube on his back as they passed them up the stairs, and while he was secretly grateful, he still managed a soft ‘fuck off’ under his breath. Michael had never been more frustrated with himself for being high in his life. He couldn’t tear the damn package open with just his fingers, which meant he had to break the kiss a second time to rip it open with his teeth. Even as this happened, he felt lips on his neck and it was enough of a save for this that he didn’t mind the moan that pulled from him. It was the shocked little whimper that left the pretty, writhing thing in his lap as the lube was dripped over his waiting hole that really just sweetened the deal. “I want you to turn around.” Not even sure if it came out coherent enough to be understood, Michael pressed a kiss to the other’s ear after whispering it. He wasn’t about to give up the best view he’d see in his life, not if he had anything to say about it. It didn’t take long for them to manage to figure it out, and thankfully nobody got hurt except for the asshole that told them to get a room. Firkle had reached out, not missing a beat, and grabbed his leg to jerk it back, and he tripped his way down the rest of the stairs. Thinking better of any threat on his lips, he disappeared into the basement with his bloody nose and Firkle was able to focus on the hand sliding under his costume and around to give him a few tugs. The moan that left him only helped him feel he was spiting the asshole jock and he happily jerked up into the feeling. Meanwhile, Michael was trying to figure out just how he could get them situated on the stairs so that he could fuck the other and watch as his dick disappeared inside of him. Just the thought of it had him rolling up into the other, and that reminded him that he did need to actually get his dick out of his pants. Pushing Firkle down to his thighs, he managed to get his belt and pants open, pushing them out of the way enough to drag the other back. Yes, that was exactly what he needed to see, their skin touching, the pale boy’s ass framing his prick. Chewing his lip, he worked his fingers back down to smooth through the lube now slicking their costumes as much as Firkle’s ass, pressing one to his puckered entrance and relishing in the shout of pleasure that elicited. If just watching Firkle bare down over two fingers was enough to have him biting his lip and trying to have some control over his taut balls, Michael wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle actually getting his cock inside. Still, he rubbed it against the younger goth’s back a few times, and had to tense his thighs to try and remind himself that there was better to come. It was so hard, though, to not just get off like this, fingers swirling inside that tight heat and cock absently being slicked up by another packet of lube and his free hand. Finally, a third finger worked inside, and Firkle couldn’t take the teasing any longer. He arched his back in a way that made Michael’s gut clench and he whined, wiggling in place, as he uttered a single word that had him abandoning everything to give the other what he wanted. “Now.” The word itself had a punched moan clawing from Michael’s throat, and the second he pulled his fingers from the other and helped him sit forward, another one left him the second Firkle managed to sit on his hips. It took everything in the elder goth not to come right there and end their fun before he got to watch anything else happen, and he forced himself to close his eyes and think of something less sexy. Of course, with the other’s impatient bouncing, it was hard to keep those up. Reaching out to still the other’s hips, he gave another little whine, trying to focus all of his intent towards being able to really let him ride him. Pulling the youth against his chest, leaning him back, he whispered in his ear. “N-need you to stay still, for a second, Boo. Gonna cream if you start too soon.” Nuzzling and nipping at the spot on his neck just behind his ear, Michael luxuriated in the way that his rear clenched and another little groan left the smaller. It had to be an eternity before he felt he could continue, and he finally thrust up into the other, all while biting into that spot that made him howl with pleasure. As soon as those teeth let loose his flesh, Firkle was pushing forward, ready to ride Michael into the night. The stairs dug into his back, ass and thighs, but the second that Firkle’s hips rounded and then began to rock, Michael couldn’t have cared less if they were fucking on a bed of needles. It was the sight of his prick disappearing inside the other’s tight little hole that was what really undid him. He couldn’t believe how easy he was tonight, and he immediately regretted thinking he could have enough control to last long enough to get Firkle off, too. He wasn’t the kind of guy that was selfish when it came to sex, but damn if this wasn’t the best he’d had in too long. It certainly didn’t help that this was Firkle, one of his best friends, and, admittedly, a huge crush of his. Another, rough round of those hips and he was spent, a choked moan in his throat as he grabbed the other’s pierced hips and forced him down all the way. Filling him up with several thick spurts of cum, all the while reaching inside his costume and trying to jerk him in time with each of his bucks upwards. Helping ride out his own orgasm, Michael was positive he could have come again the second he felt Firkle’s body seize up and heard the beautiful, soft whine on his lips. “D-Daddy~” Never in his life had he wished his dick could be ready to go again so quickly. Continuing to thrust up into the younger, he knew he’d be up for another round in a few minutes if the kid in his lap was. As Firkle laid back against his chest again, he rubbed his filthy hand up the other’s chest, petting at his nipple rings for a moment before he realized what he was doing. They felt like little, dangly handcuffs, and that was pretty hot, actually. “You did beautifully,” Michael whispered, kissing the lobe of the other’s ear, “I wouldn’t mind finding a better place than the stairs for round two, if you’re up for it?” “I am definitely up for it.” The panting goth in his lap replied, eyelids fluttering and mind too blissed out to move, “But you’re going to carry me, and we’re not going to separate.” Somehow, Michael was positive he could figure it out for himself, just how to do that. However, thinking it through and actually doing it was a little more awkward than he’d originally figured. Having to try and stand up on jelly legs was hard enough, but with another body on top of you and stairs beneath, well, that proved to be a lot more difficult. Between one blink and the next, and he really had no idea how he’d done it, he was on his feet, arms around Firkle’s middle and the spare packets of lube in his pocket. Finally on his way to a semi-private place, he could only seem to hold on long enough to get them behind one of the couches in the basement, with the younger pressed down onto his cheek and shoulders and Michael up behind him. Leaning over his back, he pressed kisses to his shoulder blades as he tried to get the other’s costume off of him. He needed to see him nude. Getting it off his legs had been the most taxing part, because Michael was still dead set on staying buried right where he was, but they had managed it. With Firkle nude before him, his hands absently trailed over the corset piercings threaded red and black from the curve of the smaller’s ass all the way down to his ankles. He couldn’t help the needy little whine that left him, then, and he pulled back to give a solid thrust that had another cry of ‘Daddy’ leaving his younger companion. Damn, this was going to ruin him too soon again. Firkle was bound to think he was a bad lay if he kept coming too damn soon. “Mn… M-Michael, come on, dude, f-fuck.” Whimpering a little, Firkle tried to grind back, though in this position it was awkward. With one hand pressing to the smaller goth’s shoulders and the other coming to push in at the piercings in his hip, Michael did just what he’d been asked for, pounding away at the younger’s hungry ass. God, whoever listened to horny gay guys really was giving him a treat tonight. “Daddy!” That particular shout was probably heard through the room, but it was so dark down here, and the sounds of other people’s moans quieted the sudden anxiety that Michael was feeling for having that name get him growling like it did. There were a few echoes around them, but nobody seemed willing to actually do anything about it, and Michael adjusted his angle to keep the goth writhing beneath his weight giving those gut punched cries for him. Honestly, Firkle shouldn’t have had this much of a sway over him, but he couldn’t stop himself, now. Soon, he leaned over and the hand that had held Firkle down moved to wrap around his neck, and what he found there had him giving an even louder groan. Another corset had managed to get wrapped up there, and while he had the urge to see it, the need to finish was too damn important right now. Without consulting his brain, his hand clamped over the other’s neck and the smaller bucked back against him hard, desperate now. It seemed he’d found another of the little goth’s preferences, and he couldn’t help the way that he continued to ride him hard into the carpet. At least this was more comfortable than the stairs. Firkle’s hips jerked back and finally he returned the hand nearly bruising those piercings inward, taking hold of his weeping cock and giving him some much-deserved pleasure. Both young men were having a hard time holding it together, much less trying to keep quiet, and they found that the more they showed off for each other, the closer they were. This time, it was Firkle to lose himself first, spilling over his costume (for the second time) and Michael’s hand. Thrusts becoming erratic and unpracticed, Michael jammed himself forward, seeing stars as he finally began to come. By the time his hips stilled and the couple were somehow on their sides, Michael curled around the other like he might offer him some decency. He hated himself for this, but his eyes closed and it was a struggle to get them open again. Instead of apologizing, though, he whispered something into the nape of the younger’s neck that had him drifting off with a smile on his face. “I love you, man.” “Yeah, you too.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: Welp, there we are! I’ve made it to two fics so far out of thirty one, so we’ll see how this goes! Honestly, this was too much fun to write. I hope you guys enjoyed~