#tcyh

reassemble the parts, despite your narrative arc

Noah scrubs his hands over his face and groans loudly, an indoor-volume scream. “I just--fuck, man, I don’t know. I’m not ready. To move on with my life. I didn’t even want to go on that interview, you know? I wanted Adam to talk me out of it.”

Ronan huffs a laugh, then he realizes Noah’s expression is deadly serious. “He’d never do that.”

An excerpt for you to get to know these two and drool!

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+18 - Read here!

"

His body was too tense, too trapped, too hard.

His pulses burned as he shifted in place, his breathing quickening, disbelief mingling with lust, watching the redhead's hand against him, its rhythmic, provocative movements so fucking good Mickey could only imagine. He sighed, trying to maintain his composure, which was quickly leaving him, closing his eyes, but with the image etched in his subconscious.

Ian on the couch.

His defined torso through his half-open shirt.

His hard cock jutted out, its pink head dripping with pre-cum.

Fuck, Mickey was going to cum with that fucking image in his mind.

"You made me wait, now you are going to wait," it was a simple explanation, but the information didn't seem to sink in. He opened his eyes and lay there, staring at Ian's glistening skin. The redhead leaned his head back against the headrest again, moaning low, strangled, and provocative, his long fingers wrapped around his own cock, his thumb tracing the head every now and then between long strokes that made Mickey moan with pain. "I imagined you doing that…" Ian's low murmur stirred the dark-haired man's frantic nerves, who stared at him unblinkingly, feeling suffocated, his face and body heating up. Hardening more than he thought possible. "Your hand around my cock…" the redhead moaned. "I thought of that when I noticed the tattoos, you know?" Ian lifted his head, his face flushed, his mouth half open with his tongue between his teeth, his forehead glistening, and his hand moving up and down slowly, spreading pre-cum as if lubrication were a nonsense to him, a fucking leaker. "I wanted your hand, then your mouth, Mickey," it was the brunette's turn to moan, without even noticing. "I was going to fuck your mouth three days ago…"

"Fuck now," he didn't know if that sounded like a plea, and fuck it, he didn't give a hell, but the answer was probably a yes, since the sentence came out of his mouth too fast and desperately, making Ian laugh, leaving Mickey's face burning.

"No…" the redhead replied, throwing his head back against the couch again.

And Mickey was really, really tempted to cry in despair."

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And an image that conveys Ian's vibe in this chapter, because the motherfucker is delicious and he knows it.

La viñeta del día 03/07/2011.