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Michael watched with a faint sense of awe as the man -- Ramsey was the name he was given over the phone -- casually shrugged his jacket off and let it fall to the floor as if he owned the goddamn place. Dark ink adorned the skin of his arms, snaking upward only to disappear beneath the sleeves of his crumpled white t-shirt that looked as if it had been bunched up on someone's bedroom floor for days at a time... and yet it looked good on Ramsey, especially with the dark jeans he wore and shoes that looked way too expensive for someone with his profession -- but fuck it, Michael didn't know how much call boys made.
He continued to watch in amazement as the older man toed off his shoes and padded barefoot into the kitchen, casually swinging open the door of a fridge that probably cost more than three months of this guy’s rent, and grabbed a beer. His actions were so casual and confident that it both infuriated Michael and, admittedly, turned him on a little bit. Only after Ramsey had the cap popped off and the first sip down his throat did he turn his tired gaze to Michael.
"So what's your name, doll face?"
Doll face? Michael wondered but just let the pet name go, instead clearing his throat and saying, "Michael. Michael Jones."
"Well, Michael," Ramsey spoke in a tone thick and sweet as honey, backing the younger man up against the custom-built kitchen island with a granite countertop and the finest (and most expensive) specimen of cherry wood cabinets that money could buy. "You don't seem to talk much."
"You didn't give me much time to talk before you were raiding my fridge," Michael replied stiffly, Ramsey's body pressed firmly against his own, warm in contrast to the cool countertop pressing into his lower back and the beer bottle resting against his arm, the close contact making his head swim and his jeans tighten. "Kind of a dick move." His next words were more choked, and Michael instantly knew that Ramsey picked up on it by the subtle curving of his lips into a triumphant smirk.
"I'm sorry, baby boy. How about you take it out of my charge? I'll even throw in an extra half hour of my time, if you can even last that long."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Honey, that's a promise." The older man purred, leaning closer to brush his lips along the length of Michael's jaw, a shiver going down the lad's spine.
"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?" Michael challenged, hating how his voice shook when Ramsey moved his head down to press open-mouthed kisses to the exposed flesh on Michael's throat.
"Oh, doll, I plan on putting a lot more in my mouth than money." Ramsey growled, palming the younger man through his $300 jeans. Michael groaned and his hips jerked into the contact, fingers tightening just slightly around the edge of the counter.
"I think I'll start with that pretty little bottom lip of yours," he whispered into the younger man's ear, still grinding his palm into Michael's growing erection with a steady rhythm that had him squirming and breathless in no time. "Then I'll tease your nipples a little bit. Take my time until you're begging for more." He punctuated those words by running his tongue along Michael's collarbone where, to Michael's surprise and delight, a small metal ball made contact with the skin.
"And then I'll kiss and bite my way down your torso before sucking your cock so damn good you'll be aching to cum -- but you won't until daddy lets you, will you?" He finished off that question with his hand down the front of Michael's pants, wrapping his fingers around his erection and stroking him slowly as the lad let out a loud moan.
"Fuck, yes," Michael panted, head falling back as Ramsey's teeth sunk into the skin just beside his racing pulse. "Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me Jesus fucking Christ."
A small part of him was ashamed of how quickly he broke--but hell, for what he was paying this guy he at least better make it worth his while.
"You're going to be a good boy for daddy?" Ramsey asked, stroking Michael faster, the younger man whining and moaning, hips jerking to match each stroke, fingers locked in a death grip around the edge of the counter. "Beg me to fuck you as I eat you out?"
"Yes, yes -- anything, god yes." Michael gasped, feeling heat pool in his stomach as Ramsey's hand picked up speed, shoving his pants down and freeing his cock to the open air.
Michael braced himself against the counter as his knees went weak, moaning and gasping as Ramsey's fist twisted over his cock before letting go altogether. Michael's eyes flew open at the action, chest heaving and cheeks burning as his orgasm faded away to a needy arousal that practically burned throughout his entire body.
---
Geoff couldn’t decide which he’d like more: abandoning the outline he’d just proposed and making this trust fund asshole cum in his own kitchen, or seeing more of this ridiculous townhouse. But when the kid practically whimpered as he pulled his hand away, Geoff settled firmly on the latter.
Responsive clients who could barely hold it together were, after all, so much fun.
“So you gonna show me around, baby, or just stand in the kitchen with your pants around your ankles?” Geoff didn’t wait for an answer, swiping his beer off the counter and swaying around the john. He heard the kid make a small, outraged noise, followed quickly by the jingling of his belt and movement of clothing.
Geoff had already made it to the living room by the time the kid caught up to him. The view from the big windows was impressive, spanning some city skyline and a neatly manicured park. He tried not to get distracted calculating what a place like this must cost -- and Geoff wasn’t new to rich clients by any means -- but it took real mental negotiation to concentrate on the task at hand.
The kid sidled up to him there at the window as Geoff finished off the beer with an exaggerated gulp. It had been a nice craft brew -- and at least the kid’s expensive taste extended to escorts and alcohol.
“You treat all your clients like this, or… ?” Michael asked. The kid ran a hand idly down the front of his pants -- regretting the lingering erection, Geoff guessed. Geoff purposefully didn’t look at him, trying to get a rise.
“Only the ones who get off on it, baby,” Geoff said, shrugging and hitching an eyebrow, still taking in the view. Without looking at Michael, he pressed the empty beer bottle into the kid’s hands and smiled out the window.
“And what,” Michael said, starting to sound mad, “makes you think I’d get off on someone barging into my house without even basic goddamn manners?” The kid had leaned his back against the window to force himself into Geoff’s field of vision. Before his client could react, Geoff closed the space between them, side-stepping and pressing his body up against Michael’s, palming the half-dying erection that Geoff had purposefully allowed to languish.
“Was I that off base, baby boy?” he asked through a grin, not missing the war of anger and arousal playing across Michael’s face. “I’d wager you’ve just been waiting for someone to take charge and tell you what to do.”
Geoff pressed into the smaller man harder, making sure his whole back was up against his own window. Michael drew measured breaths and stared up into Geoff’s face.
“If I told you I was going to fuck you up against this window for everyone enjoying the beautiful day outside to see, I bet you’d beg me for it,” Geoff said, dropping his voice and getting closer. “Wouldn’t you, Michael?”
The kid made a noise that sounded vaguely affirmative. Not enough, Geoff thought. Christ, he was already enjoying this more than he ought to be.
“You can do better than that, doll,” Geoff said, low, tilting his head, just out of the reach of a kiss. “Say it.”
“Yeah,” Michael said, dropping his eyes.
“Just yeah?” Geoff said, really teasing him now. He braced himself with one hand -- flat and rudely leaving a print -- pressed against the window above their shoulders. The other hand slowly found its way to rest on Michael’s neck, tattooed thumb across the front of his throat. At the first hint of the sensation, the client’s breathing went shallow.
“Didn’t they teach you how to talk better at that fancy ivy league school?” Geoff punctuated the taunt with a slow kiss along the kid’s jaw.
“How… do you know I went…” Michael struggled to even form a rejoinder, and Geoff puffed a laugh.
“Lucky guess,” Geoff said. “Now say it for me before I get impatient.”
And in reality it shouldn’t be that much of a struggle, but even the proximity has apparently pushed Michael -- the young client’s head thrown back, eyes closed as Geoff stroked his throat, all long lashes and lazy, wanting expressions.
“Fuck,” Michael said, maybe struggling to remember what he was even supposed to say. “I -- I’d let you. You could fuck… you could do whatever you want, shit.”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Geoff asked before dropping his hand, looping a finger into the kid’s collar to expose more skin, and sucking a mark into the spot where neck met shoulder. Michael ground up and off the window, moaning openly at the stimulation and rutting into Geoff’s hip.
“Anything -- just, fuck,” Michael said, the words coming haltingly as Geoff worried Michael’s pale skin with his teeth. “Just touch me, please.”
“Now there are those nice cotillion manners,” Geoff said, pulling back to Michael’s dismay, smiling down at him. “Turn around.”
The kid didn’t move fast enough, though, and Geoff only gave him two seconds before he roughly and quickly guided Michael’s hips -- spinning him as Michael half tripped over his own feet and then steadying him flush against the glass. Geoff stepped up to fit his hips against Michael’s ass, one hand on the client’s hip and the other working quickly at his belt.
“Shit, you’re gonna--?” Michael said, sounding suddenly panicked.
“If you wanted someone who’s all talk, you called the wrong escort,” Geoff said, handling Michael’s belt roughly, thumbing open the button and yanking the fly down. He waited until his palm was pressed against Michael’s cotton-clad erection before asking the next question.
“Do you want me to stop, then?” Geoff asked, his lips brushing the kid’s ear. He could feel a deep shudder wrack Michael’s body.
“No, fuck,” the kid said.
Geoff stroked him as he listed off his next directions.
“Put your hands against the window, baby boy,” Geoff said. “Don’t drop them until I say so.” Michael just nodded, and Geoff vaguely regretted in that moment that he couldn’t see the kid’s face to watch the reaction he knew he was drawing out.
Geoff kept his grip on Michael’s hips and walked him back from the window a pace, pulling Michael’s hips before pushing him firmly across the upper back.
---
Michael felt ridiculous and exposed, his face up against his own goddamn living room window, being bent at the waist by Ramsey, his ass walked back into the room.
Scratch that: Michael felt ridiculous, exposed, and hard as a fucking diamond.
He felt rather than watched as Ramsey’s hands moved his clothes around, first freeing his jeans until they pooled on the floor and then teasing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. For one thrilling and horrifying moment, Michael thought Ramsey was going to remove them entirely and give the entire neighborhood more of a show than they were already getting (and, Michael realized to his dismay, he probably would’ve let the man do it without protest as long as Ramsey threw in some sort of syrupy praise) -- but instead, the hand at Michael’s hip moved slowly along the elastic until it came to rest at the center of his back.
The steady pressure across his hips and back disappeared then, and Michael could hear Ramsey moving behind him. Ramsey hooked a finger into his briefs, dragging the elastic down slowly -- and Michael tilted his hips forward, willing the dark briefs to stay in place across the front of his body. Remarkably, as Ramsey hooked another finger into the elastic and pulled them to rest under the cheeks of Michael’s ass, the rest of the underwear stayed in place.
Ramsey’s hands disappeared then, and Michael strained to look behind him. The escort was kneeling behind him with a dreamy smile and a crooked grin.
“Shit, Michael,” Ramsey said after a minute of silent contemplation. He reached a hand out to tease the skin at Michael’s flank. “An ass like this… Maybe I should be paying you.”
Michael didn’t make a sound but he could feel his own cock throb at the praise. As if Ramsey knew, the escort chuckled warm, moving closer, his other hand on Michael’s hip then. Michael was forced to turn back, to face out the window again as his neck threatened to cramp at the bizarre angle -- and it was all he could do to keep from collapsing against the window at the sudden sensation of a warm mouth at the cleft of his ass.
Ramsey laid a long kiss there before speaking again.
“Hands on the glass, baby,” he reminded Michael. “Don’t drop ‘em. And don’t squirm -- unless you want these boxers off. We could give the whole park a real show.”
“Fuckin… we already are,” Michael choked, Ramsey running his hands over Michael’s skin.
“Oh, it’ll get better than this,” the man said, chuckling again -- and even just the sound of his arrogant laugh had Michael wanting to buck forward into nothing.
---
The kid’s ass really was perfect, Geoff thought. It wasn’t all just talk for the sake of talk. It certainly didn’t feel like a working gig in that moment as Geoff’s mouth found soft skin across the small of the kid’s back. He started to lay dry kisses at random everywhere he could, from the elastic stretched taut across the back of the kid’s balls back up to the cleft of that lovely ass. And then not so dry kisses, licking and sucking and teasing, appreciating the soft sounds Michael made in response, the way that he swayed slightly in Geoff’s grip.
And as the last mark faded, Geoff approached the main event, using his thumbs to spread Michael just so before laying a long, slow stroke with his tongue over Michael’s hole.
“Holy shit, ho -- holy fuck --” Michael sputtered out in the air above him, jerking forward.
“What did I say about squirming, baby,” Geoff said, hooking his thumbs into the elastic that so precariously held Michael’s boxers across his body.
“No -- I won’t, I -- I’m sorry -- Christ that’s so good,” Michael said. Geoff kissed the sensitive skin before laying another lick, and Michael stood still. Geoff could feel his weight sagging forward onto the window -- exactly how he wanted Michael.
“Much better, Michael,” Geoff hummed, and Michael answered with the smallest outraged-sounding moan. Kid’s got a thing for praise, Geoff noted before really rimming him in earnest: alternating fast, short laps with the tip of his tongue with long, languid strokes of the muscle, being sure to roll the smooth ball of his piercing over every surface.
He didn’t have to eat the kid out long to realize that Michael could cum right here, pressed against the window -- probably without Geoff ever even handling his cock -- it would just take the right combination of words. And that would be a sight: Michael stepping back to regard the dripping mess he’d made on his own window.
But no, Geoff wasn’t ready for the call to be over so soon. He decided to keep his mouth otherwise engaged, dragging every obscene noise he can out from the client in front of him, appreciating the range of noises -- from low sounds that hummed through Michael to high broken moans.
Geoff got plenty of each as he began to press his tongue into Michael, as the kid rocked back, eager to fuck himself on Geoff’s face. The kid’s eagerness had Geoff hard in his own jeans, and he ventured a hand down press against his own cock. God this was going to be the best call. Geoff pumped his tongue for a few finishing strokes before pulling back and appreciating the response of the shuddering body in front of him.
“You’d let me eat you out all day, wouldn’t you baby?” Geoff said, scrubbing a hand over a face wet with his own spit.
“Christ I’d -- fuck, I’d blow my whole savings on it,” Michael said.
---
There was a moment of complete silence, save for Michael's ragged breathing, before there was a rustling sound indicating Ramsey getting to his feet behind the younger man, fingers sliding into the curls on the back of his head and scratching lightly against his scalp. A shudder went through Michael's body and a moment later he couldn't help but groan as the fingers tightened and pulled, maneuvering him away from the window as he stumbled over the jeans still sunk down around his ankles.
"Why don't you step out of those, baby boy," Ramsey suggested, although it came out sounding more like an order. Michael complied, kicking the jeans off and reaching back to adjust his boxers, but Ramsey's hand around his wrist stopped him.
"I didn't say anything about those."
Ramsey was pulling on his hair again a moment later, leading him the few paces it took to get to the couch, pushing him down onto the four thousand dollar piece of furniture and stripping the younger man of his boxers completely with a practiced ease. Michael shook as Ramsey's tattooed fingers traced delicate patterns over the skin of his inner thighs, his fingers scrambling for purchase over the dark leather sofa as the man's mouth joined the fray, sucking dark marks into the skin that made Michael moan. Ramsey wasn't even touching his cock and yet he felt like he was going to lose his goddamn mind.
Ramsey's mouth moved to where Michael's shirt ended just above his hips, before grabbing a fistful of the material over Michael's chest and pulling him into a sitting position, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside before his mouth was everywhere, leaving burning open-mouthed kisses along his entire torso that left Michael almost begging for more as his cock laid neglected, leaking precum against his stomach.
Finally, finally Ramsey granted Michael's hard-on some contact, the tip of his tongue teasing around the base, the smooth ball of his piercing stimulating the sensitive flesh just above that, hands firmly keeping Michael's hips pressed down into the cushion, fingers most likely biting bruises into the pale skin there. The thought made Michael throb.
Michael moaned loud as Ramsey's tongue ran up his shaft, throwing his head back against the back of the couch, hips straining against Ramsey's firm grip. He bit down hard on his bottom lip as the head of his cock was enveloped in the heat of Ramsey's mouth, that damn little metal ball teasing at the tip before more of his length was taken into the man's mouth, a high, whiney moan coming from Michael's mouth as his teeth bit down harder on his lip.
Ramsey took it all in slowly, pressing his head down until his nose was flush against Michael's pelvis, pulling back up and leering up at Michael -- who had to be an absolute mess at this point, he knew.
"You can touch me if you want, doll." Ramsey pointed out before going back to work -- and Michael's fingers were instantly in his hair, pulling and trying his hardest to take some control over the situation.
Surprisingly, Ramsey let him. The hands came off his hips to brace against the couch and Michael's hips jerked up involuntarily. Moans and whimpers poured out of his open mouth as he fucked shallowly into Ramsey's mouth, his eyes shut tight and his fingers aching from his death grip on the man's hair. The jerking of his hips grew more sporadic as his toes curled into the carpet, heat pooling in his stomach and he hoped that he'd finally be able to cum, but that illusion was shattered as his hips were being shoved back down onto the couch and Ramsey was pulling his head away from Michael's hands and his aching cock.
---
The whimper Michael made as Geoff pulled away from him should be downright fucking illegal with the way it made Geoff's neglected cock throb in his jeans, pressing painfully against the zipper. He palmed at it and let out a soft hiss as he waited for Michael to recover, looking up to see the younger man staring at him.
"See something you like, doll?" he teased with a smirk, and Michael didn't respond, sitting up and dropping to the floor in front of Geoff.
"I want to do something for you," he said, voice already showing the results of his moaning and begging. Geoff throbbed again, despite being thrown off by the statement. This was unusual.
"You're sure about that, baby?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I wanna do it," Michael said, nodding, his hands already reaching for Geoff's jeans. "Get on the coffee table."
Geoff couldn't help but grin, reaching behind himself before pulling his body up onto the (probably expensive as dicks) coffee table, Michael unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them off in one smooth motion, taking Geoff's boxers with them. Michael looked him over with an awestruck expression in his eyes, thumb carefully prodding at the piercing sitting at the tip of Geoff's cock, causing the older man to groan at the sensation.
“You didn’t tell me you were…” Michael started, entranced by the thick U-ring.
“Pierced?” Geoff asked through a pleasant sigh. “You didn’t ask. I can take it out if you --”
“No,” Michael interrupted him. “It’s great, fuck.”
Geoff didn't have time to reply before Michael was mouthing at his cock, tattooed fingers sliding into his curls and giving a sharp tug as he sucked in a breath with the feeling of Michael's tongue carefully tracing around his piercing.
"You can move it." Geoff assured him, and let his head fall back with a low moan as Michael moved the thick ring back and forth with his tongue. "Oh fuck that's so good, baby doll."
Geoff propped himself back on the table, letting his head loll and trying to get comfortable as the john between his legs alternated playing with the jewelry that looped through the tip of his cock and laying stripes up and down his length. The sensation of the jewelry moving and the kid’s tongue working against him flooded Geoff’s stomach with relief -- his cock finally getting to feel something other than the fabric of his boxers.
Michael moved, then, to take Geoff into his mouth -- and Christ, Geoff hadn’t thought about it since clients didn’t tend to want to suck him off, but the piercing could be a liability.
“Hey -- be careful, baby,” Geoff said, looking down and stroking a hand through Michael’s curls. The kid didn’t look up, intent on swirling his tongue over every inch of the cock in his mouth. “Go slow with that metal, ok? Don’t wanna wreck that pretty smile.”
Michael hummed, reaching a hand up to squeeze around Geoff’s base, apparently undeterred by the warning. But Geoff’s fears were quickly confirmed a moment later when, too ambitious, Michael swallowed around Geoff’s erection and gagged hard as the jewelry pressed into the entrance of his throat. The john made a choking sound that had Geoff throbbing in spite of himself, and Michael reared back quickly, knocking his back teeth against the thick U-ring as he sucked in a breath.
“Shoulda listened to your daddy,” Geoff said, catching Michael by his chin and swiping a thumb across Michael’s spit-slicked bottom lip. The john’s eyes went wide at the statement.
“I just wanted… you made me feel so good and --”
He looked embarrassed -- about to cry, almost.
“You know you don’t have to return the favor, doll,” Geoff said. “That’s why I make the big bucks. This call’s about you.”
He threaded his hands through the kid’s curls again -- and the fact that the john leaned into Geoff’s touch, the way his mouth fell open -- was almost as satisfying as the feeling of Michael swallowing around him. Michael looked up at Geoff like the call boy was the center of his world, and something pressed too big in Geoff’s chest in response.
And then Geoff did something that surprised even him.
He pulled Michael up, guiding him by the back of his skull, to catch the john in a kiss that was so shy at first that it was almost laughable.
It was rare for Geoff to kiss clients on the mouth -- a silly rule, considering where his mouth did tend to go on calls. But still: a rule, nonetheless. And those he did kiss were the ones he’d known for years -- the clients who had become friends, who asked him to stay the night.
And so Geoff didn’t know why he let himself ride the impulse, but as Michael parted his lips for Geoff and moaned into the kiss, Geoff realized that he absolutely did not regret it. He’d had his tongue in the kid’s ass just a few minutes ago -- and yet this moment felt exponentially more intimate.
They both let the kiss wash over them as it crescendoed and went hungry before finally tapering off -- lips sliding over lips, tongues tentative and almost hilariously bashful. And as they pulled away from each other after a long minute of fluid contact, Geoff stroked a thumb across Michael’s flushed cheek.
“Bet you’ve got a real nice bedroom somewhere in this joint, huh baby boy?”
---
Michael felt like he could cry from relief as his bare back finally hit the soft sheets of his bed, Ramsey’s tattooed hands running down his waist before grabbing at his hips with a tight grip and yanking him to the edge of the mattress.
The hands continued to wander after that, down to grab at his ass before tracing feather-light touches along the sensitive skin on his inner thighs. Michael shook and twitched at the sensation, his breath catching in a distinctly sob-like fashion, his eyes burning in that familiar way they did before he was going to cry.
He almost cried out as Ramsey’s pierced tongue ran along his taint -- a long, needy whine slipping from between his ruddy lips instead. His teeth bit into the flesh as the man between his legs let out a low chuckle before biting down on the skin of Michael’s upper thigh, right before leg turned to ass, his thumbs spreading his cheeks just slightly.
“Ramsey, wait. Fuck. Just… Fuck.” Michael gasped. He felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get a cock inside him soon, his limbs tingling and shaking as if he had just been electrocuted, his cock hard as a goddamn diamond, aching and ignored against his stomach.
Ramsey hummed a noncommittal reply, his hands massaging the tender skin of Michael’s ass and god damnit he was already finding it difficult to form words without that extra stimulation.
“I can’t… I can’t take anymore teasing. I need your cock in me so badly, ok? Is that what you want to hear?” Michael demanded, propping himself up on his elbows and gazing down at Ramsey with watery eyes, breath hitching just slightly.
“Christ,” the older man whispered before wrapping his fingers around Michael’s cock, causing him to let out a needy whine ending in a sharp sob, giving it a firm stroke before saying in a louder voice, “I don’t think you want it that bad, Michael. I want you to beg baby boy.”
“Please.” Michael gasped and whimpered as Ramsey’s hand stilled, his hips jerking just slightly off of the mattress, “Please, Ramsey. I can’t… I can’t take this anymore.”
His brown eyes locked with Ramsey’s and he swallowed hard before whispering, “Please fuck me with your big, pierced cock, daddy. Please.”
Michael knew that did the trick as soon as Ramsey’s amused smirk turned to a hungry gaze, his hand stroking Michael in earnest now as he pushed up off the floor and propped himself overtop the young john, capturing Michael’s lips in a second heated kiss -- desperate then, less sweet-- as Ramsey hitched one of Michael’s thighs up, teasing a fingertip around his hole before breaking the contact of their mouths, moving that same hand to press two fingers against Michael’s still-parted lips.
Michael held Ramsey’s heavy-lidded gaze as the man stroked fingers into his mouth, Michael swirling his tongue against the hand, sucking lightly on the fingers. Finally Ramsey pulled away, pressing the fingers lightly against Michael’s swollen lips.
“You’ve got some lube, doll?” Ramsey asked, pressing more weight against Michael, letting their hips grind together.
Michael flipped quickly to his belly, shimmying up the bed to reach into a nearby drawer. His hand found the small bottle, and he started to flip. Ramsey didn’t let him, behind Michael instantly, pressing him down with his heavier weight, a hand on the small of Michael’s back.
“Why don’t you stay just like this, baby,” Ramsey purred, his lips brushing Michael’s ear as he reached forward to wrestle the lube out of Michael’s hand.
“I want to see you, though,” Michael whined, trying to wrest out of Ramsey’s grip. It earns him a low closed-mouth chuckle, and the larger man drops the lube next to them, not letting off on his weight.
“You sure about that?” the man asked.
And slowly, giving Michael plenty of time to protest, Ramsey reached forward to take one wrist -- to guide it behind Michael’s back -- and then the other. Michael had wanted to lay back, but his cock is twitching and his hips shaking as Ramsey holds both of his wrists behind his back with one hand, the man’s other hand flicking open the bottle of lube.
“I’ll let you go, doll,” Ramsey offered. “Just say the word.”
“Ch -- changed my mind,” Michael said, his words muffled by the way his face is pressed against the fabric of his own comforter. Ramsey hummed and hitched him up by the hip, bringing Michael to his knees and pressing his face harder down onto the mattress.
“That’s what I thought,” Ramsey said. “Just a wild guess, you know. But I had a feeling you might like me to fuck you open just like this. Right baby boy?”
“Fuck,” Michael breathed out, thrusting forward against nothing. “Fuck, please.”
And finally relenting, Ramsey pressed a slick finger against his hole. He was clearly aiming to tease, but Michael found enough strength to press back, to take the finger -- and he moaned at the contact immediately. He was pliant and relaxed and the fat finger wasn’t enough, still felt like a tease.
“Please, daddy, I need -- “
“Another?” Ramsey said, working the finger into him then, crooking it this way and that to see how Michael reacted. “I should’ve known you’d be impatient and greedy.”
But even with the teasing tone, he complied after a second -- a second finger joining the first. And then Michael began to feel the stretch, hissing against it even while wanting more -- wanting Ramsey. With two fingers, the man could push in deeper and he did, stroking slowly into Michael until finally Michael felt his body throb, Ramsey simultaneously pressing into his prostate and tightening his grip around Michael’s wrists.
---
Geoff admired the way his thumbs fit into the divots on Michael's lower back where his skin dimpled, pressing as deep inside the younger man as he could while admiring the twitching, straining muscles and the light sheen of sweat on Michael's back.
"Christ, you're beautiful." Geoff sighed before bracing a hand firmly on the center of Michael's upper back, his free hand still gripping onto the younger man's hip with a practically bruising force, Michael rocking his hips up off the bed and back against Geoff's cock, only to have Geoff pin his hips back down onto the mattress.
"I didn't say you could move, baby boy." Geoff scolded, and Michael let out a half-outraged moan.
"Just... fucking... please." The younger man was practically incoherent and Geoff had just barely started fucking him.
"Please what, doll?" Geoff asked as he started to shallowly move his hips, barely fucking the young john underneath him and admiring the sounds the minimal movements earned him.
"Fuck me, god.. damnit." Michael's voice broke on a moan as Geoff switched gears as suddenly as flipping a switch, fucking into him earnestly and pulling his hips back to that Michael was on his knees, chest still pressed against the comforter, wrists remaining behind his back despite the fact that Geoff had let go of them ages ago.
Geoff leaned over the younger man as he kept a firm grip on one hip to keep him as steady as he could as he fucked him, the other hand reaching to pin Michael to the bed by the back of his neck.
They were both entirely lost in sensation, in pleasure and grasping hands and tight heat that made Geoff’s head spin and his hips snap forward at just the right angle to make Michael's back arch, lean muscles standing out against pale freckled skin.
---
It was in the afterglow of their collective orgasms that Geoff threw an arm around Michael's waist, damn the consequences of probably ending up late for his ‘business dinner’ with Jack. He couldn't bring himself to give a shit about the lecture he was sure to get about punctuality, especially when the younger man next to him rolled to mold against his side, nose nuzzled against the crook of his neck and a soft, content sigh brushing against his skin.
Things were quiet for several minutes before Geoff was carding a hand through the young john’s curls and asking if he had anything to cook in that big, fancy kitchen of his.