“Make sure you jump off the north balcony. I like to drink my tea in the south courtyard, and seeing your splattered corpse would be a real downer to me-time.”
“So mean,” Enzo said, nipping his earlobe then dragging his tongue along the hollow of his throat.
“You—oh,fuck,do that again,” Seven gasped, grinding down on Enzo’s thigh as he bit his chin. “You’re the one acting like a total tease,” he managed, moaning low when Enzo’s tongue dipped into his ear.
Why was that fucking hot?
His hands dropped to Enzo’s shoulders, and he let his fingers palm over the older man’s chest. He wanted him naked again. Wanted to take his time and explore every inch of skin, wanted to map every tattoo, taste his skin on his tongue. He’d never wanted anyone the way he did this infuriating man.
“Me? You’ve been tormenting me for months,” Enzo panted against his ear. “Looking like you do, smiling at me, leaving me flirty little notes, teasing me on Slack. Do you know how many times I jerk off a day now because of you? If you don’t give in soon, I might need some kind of intervention.”
Seven groaned as Enzo scraped his teeth along the tendon just beneath his collar. “If you give me a hickey where someone can see it, I’m gonna put a glitter bomb in your incoming mail. Good luck explaining why all your filings look like you hired Tinkerbell.”
“All I’m hearing is that I can mark you up as long as nobody sees it,” Enzo countered, making short work of the top few buttons of Seven’s shirt so he could tug it to the side and latch his mouth to Seven’s skin, sucking with enough force to bruise.
Seven was painfully hard, cock throbbing, tip leaking into his underwear. He was going to have a permanent zipper-shaped scar if Enzo didn’t stop forcing him to grind down on him.
“Fuck, how are you always so good at this?”
“This?” Enzo asked, biting along his jaw. “Or this?”
He flexed his thigh, dragging another pathetic sound from him. “Both. Either. Fuck, I can’t think when your mouth is on me.”
“That’s too bad,” Enzo said, voice full of mock sympathy. “I was just about to give you my oral arguments.”
“That seemed way less lame via text,” Seven managed, hands scrabbling blindly for the metal shelves as Enzo dropped to his knees then went for Seven’s button and zipper.
Enzo groaned, letting Seven’s pants fall around his ankles. “You liar. You said you weren’t wearing underwear.”
“Take them off, then I won’t be lying,” Seven insisted, pushing Enzo’s face against the rigid outline of his cock where it tented his underwear.
Enzo’s tongue pressed to the wet spot on the fabric. “Already wet for me. Just like last time,” he murmured, freeing Seven from his boxer briefs. “Fuck, your cock is just as pretty as you are.”
“That’s—hnf, fuck.” Enzo’s mouth closed over the tip, tongue swirling in a way that had Seven’s head spinning. “Please, don’t tease me.”
Enzo hummed then swallowed him down, encasing him in the tight wet heat of his mouth. Seven cried out, his hands finding Enzo’s hair, not sure if he was trying to pull him off or push him down.
“Oh, fuck…your mouth…that’s so…fuck… Oh, God… Oh, God… Oh, my…what are you doing to me?”
Enzo did something complicated with his tongue, then swallowed around him, his throat tightening mercilessly until Seven’s toes were curling and he was all but trying to tear Enzo’s hair out at the root. Seven could already feel himself losing, his spine tingling, heat flooding his belly.
Enzo pulled off, chest heaving as he said, “Fuck my mouth until you come.”
“Jesus Christ.” Seven nodded, thoughts hazy, his body telling him to say whatever he needed in order to get Enzo’s mouth back on him. Still, he heard himself say, “Only if you jerk yourself off while you do it.”
Enzo held his gaze as he unbuttoned and unzipped his own pants, plunging his hand inside, eyes rolling as he closed his fist around his own aching cock, stroking it without any real finesse.
“Look who’s the sub now,” Seven managed, pulling Enzo’s mouth back towards his cock. “You look so good on your knees for me.”
Enzo took him to the root, moaning around him as he jerked himself. Every time he hollowed his cheeks, Seven swore he saw fireworks explode behind his eyes. Enzo wanted him to fuck histhroat. Fuck, he could do that. He tightened his fingers in his hair, rolling his hips, movements stuttering each time the older man gagged around him, sending shots of lightning through his blood.
“I’m not gonna last. It’s been too long and your fucking mouth feels so good,” he warned, refusing to look at Enzo. If he did, it would be over. It was about to be over, anyway. For all his teasing, Seven could feel himself passing the point of no return, and he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I’m gonna come. Please, can I come? Please?”
Enzo’s moan was the only confirmation Seven got before his hips jerked and he came, shoving the heel of his own hand into his mouth to muffle his cries. Enzo worked him through the aftershocks, licking at him until he hissed from oversensitivity. Before he could even slip free of Enzo’s mouth, the older man was curling in on himself, groaning around Seven’s softening cock as he spilled over his own fist.
When Seven slipped free, he slid down the wall, his legs splaying on either side of Enzo where he sat back on his haunches, both of them trying to catch their breaths. When they made eye contact with each other, they both laughed then fell quiet.
After a minute, Enzo grabbed a pack of paper towels from the bottom shelf beside them, pulling some free to clean them both off.
