“Yeah.”
“Shithead,” Chris mumbled.
“But just to be crystal clear, you want me to keep corrupting you and get soaked in cum over and over again?” Marc couldn’t hold back anymore and he flashed him a full-on wide toothy smile.
“What the hell? No. Well, yeah.” Chris laughed. “Dude, you’re so disgustingly graphic.”
“Says the jerk who lovesto stuffpeople’s holes.”
Marc’s heart was beating wildly. He wanted to undress this man and fuck him all night long. But he felt like letting him take the first step, like he did in LA. He yearned to be desired like that again, to have Chris stroking his ego with filthy words and that bold tongue of his.
“I’d definitely like doing that, yeah.”
“That’s fine by me.” Marc inched forward, their mouths brushing as he gripped the guitarist’s thighs near his crotch. “You’re gonna have to earn that privilege, though. I’m not the type of man to give my flower to just anyone.” He licked his friend’s lips and tittered at his own stupidity.
“What fucking flower?” Chris facepalmed the bassist and pushed him back onto the couch.
He grinned. “Eh, I’m a delicate thing.”
“My ass.”
“Haven’t tried it yet, but I’m sure it is.” Marc crunched his abs and pulled his hair from under him, sweeping it over the armrest with a smirk.
“Yeah, yeah…” Chris said. “Anyway, what is it you want me to do before you let mestuffyou?” It was his turn to grin mischievously.
“Take my dick out and suck it like a good boy.” He spread his legs while grabbing his own crotch, perfectly aware he was pushing Chris’s buttons in a contradictory way with the rasp in his voice and the pet name—the perks of having known each other for so long.
“Seriously?” Chris scrunched his nose and twisted his mouth comically. “Good boy?”
Marc shrugged, kind of surprised—and low-key happy—thatthatwas the only thing making him pull a face. “You’ve been giving me shit for almost two months. Deal with it or leave.”
Prowling between his thighs like a predator, Chris propped both hands on each side of the bassist’s rib cage. Dominant. Unwavering. Hungry. “I thought you liked brats, not good boys,” he whispered against his mouth while grinding on him.
Marc laughed. “That I do.” He grabbed his ass and pressed their hips together harder.
“Well, happy unbirthday to you, because you’ve got yourself a man who loves getting on your nerves.” Chris nibbled his lip and pulled, ending the conversation.
Fierce, with their hands all over each other’s bodies, unbuckling, unzipping, they ripped off pieces of clothes one by one. Tongues. Teeth. Between ragged breaths and hisses when a bite was a bit too hard, they became a synchronized mass of ink, muscle, and gasping moans rocking together in the chase of that toe-curling sensation.
Marc had thought that as nonchalant as Chris had acted after the more serious part of their talk, he’d still have some reservations about this sex-with-a-male-friend thing. But apparently, the sensual movie type of kisses that built up and increased the temperature in the room weren’t for them.
“Fuck,” Marc moaned when Chris slipped a hand between them and began pumping his dick with fluid yet solid strokes, thumbing the tip every time before going down again.
He might be new at this and the bassist would probably have to teach him a few things, but fuck, he knew how to make a man melt.
As Chris broke the kiss, a thread of saliva still connecting their panting mouths, they stared heavily at each other.
“You like that?” he husked without stopping his movements, blue irises darker than ever.
“Fuck, yes… Keep going.” Marc forcefully grabbed his jaw and tilted his head up, licking his tattooed throat. “Can’t wait to have this wicked mouth wrapped around my cock,” he rasped before pulling his lips down to his again.
Chris groaned, and Marc echoed him.
Goosebumps covered his body. Shivers exploded in every direction. Two weeks wasn’t long, but since the last time they had been together, he hadn’t had sex with anyone else or touched himself one single time, and the edge wasn’t far.
Chris moved away again, gliding his lips and leaving a trail of gentle bites along Marc’s jaw and neck, lowering to his chest at a painfully slow pace. The bassist stirred under him when his tongue flicked against his nipple, toying with the balls on each side of the bar pierced through it before moving to the other.
It wasn’t a new sensation, and Chris wasn’t doing anything crazy, but him doing all this had Marc completely lost in a lustful haze he hadn’t experienced in a while.
