Mickey took Roger to bed, and he fucked him as roughly as before. He kept Roger’s legs up on his shoulders to really drill into him, and he didn’t give a fuck how loudly the bed squeaked. He was mean, cruel, smacking Roger’s tender thighs and hips, trying to make the empty place inside of him go away at any cost.
No matter how sweetly Roger moaned and screamed for him, it didn’t help. Mickey was still angry, hollow, and he couldn’t even focus enough to come. It only added to his building fury, and he started to pull away, trying to catch his breath.
“Hey?” Roger frowned. “Master, where’d you go?”
“I’m just… Just, fuck, just give me a second.” Mickey squeezed his eyes closed, and he gritted his teeth. His head hurt, his arm was throbbing where he’d been shot, and he couldn’t concentrate. He could feel himself going soft, and he wanted to scream.
Right when he was about to give up and kick Roger out of bed, something happened.
Roger kissed him, deep and slow, and the entire energy shifted.
The cloud of anger that had been fogging Mickey’s mind faded away, and there was a fluttery, warm sensation working away at the ache in his chest until it was forgotten. Roger’s lips were so soft, gentle, and Mickey’s cock was getting hard again.
Mickey let himself be drawn in, repositioning Roger’s legs around his waist as he returned the kiss with equal passion. This was hot, intense, and suddenly every roll of their bodies was sending sparks across his vision and down his spine.
“How the fuck do you do that?” Mickey murmured.
“What, master?” Roger stroked Mickey’s cheek.
“Everything.”
Mickey slid his arms beneath Roger’s shoulders, holding him close as he thrusted. He pushed as deeply as he could and held, circling his hips wide. The stretch was good, providing a new wave of pressure and heat. Whatever earlier urgency usually possessed him was reduced to a lovely simmer, and Mickey let himself enjoy every individual thrust.
He loved fucking Roger without a condom because he could feel how silky and slick he was inside. He hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate just how hot it was to be inside of him bare like this, and he swore he could feel Roger’s pulse lightly throbbing around his cock.
Roger ran his hands down Mickey’s back, but he didn’t scratch him. No nails at all, he was petting him, caressing his muscles and the strong curves of his shoulders. There was such a tenderness in his touch, and Mickey marveled at how much he liked being touched like that.
Sex was quick, dirty, but this…
This meant something, though Mickey couldn’t explain what. He knew only he didn’t want it to stop.
He kissed Roger again, sliding his tongue against his. He couldn’t get close enough, and he wanted to touch Roger the same way he was touching him. He dragged one of his arms out from beneath Roger to stroke his chest. He thumbed over his nipple, toying with it until it was a perky little nub and Roger was whimpering.
“Do you like that?” Mickey asked, his lips ghosting over Roger’s.
“Yes, master.” Roger smiled. “Mmm, feels nice.”
Mickey shook his head. “Not master… not right now. Just Mickey.”
Roger’s smile softened, and his hands cradled Mickey’s face. “Okay, Mickey.” He kissed him, his legs curling tighter around his waist.
Mickey started fucking him again, but with more purpose, a thundering rhythm that made him ache, and there, yes, the void in his chest was overflowing with passion. He didn’t know sex could be like this, and he groped down Roger’s side to his thigh, lifting him up so he could plunge deeper.
With a low moan Roger lifted hips off the bed, using his legs to keep him in that position with his ass suspended from the mattress. “Ah,Mickey!”
In that heated moment, Mickey liked hearing his own name even more than Roger calling him master. He squeezed Roger’s thigh, and he gasped when he felt Roger’s hand wiggling down in between them.
Roger was stroking around Mickey’s cock, petting him there where they were joined together. “God, you feel so perfect… fuck, I love how you fuck me… I always feel you the next day.”
“Yeah?” Mickey nuzzled Roger’s throat and laid a kiss on the bruise there. “Good. I want you to feel me, all the time… I don’t want you to forget… that you’re mine. You’re all fucking mine.” He swallowed. “And I’m yours.”
“My monster,” Roger sighed contentedly, his finger still rubbing over Mickey’s cock, sliding through the lube as he pushed in and out of his body. “Fuck, I can feel your fuckin’ dick ring. Feels good, rubbin’ in me. Like when you go real deep.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mickey thrusted, pushing as far as he could and catching Roger’s hand. “Like that?”
“Ah, fuck, like that!” Roger nodded eagerly, his hand retreating to brace himself against Mickey’s chest. “Fuck, just like that.”
Holding Roger’s leg firmly, Mickey slammed hard, making sure to thrust as deeply as he could and enjoying Roger’s responding cries of pleasure. Roger pushed down to meet Mickey, trying to take him even deeper into his body, and his hands were soon all over him. He was pulling at him, urging him on, and Mickey gasped at the first sharp bite of his nails.
