[Mature Content]
Micah looked down at the man beneath him, his palm pressed to Damian's chest, feeling the steady, rhythmic thump of his heartbeat.
Damian looked beautiful like this.
His golden hair was damp, fanning across the sheets, catching the glow of the bedside lamp. His blue eyes were lidded with pleasure and hazy with anticipation. Even with his nose still swollen and bruised, even with the faint remnants of dried blood along his nostril, he was perfect.
Micah leaned down and kissed him softly.
Damian's lips were warm, pliant. He kissed Micah back, slow at first, then hungrier. A clash of lips and tongue and teeth. Micah felt Damian's hands slide down his back, gripping his ass, pulling him in like he always did—like claiming something that was his by right.
Usually, Micah would've submitted to Damian's control. Would've given himself to the man beneath him like an offering.
But not tonight.
Micah broke away, grabbing Damian's wrists and pressing them above his head and pinning them against the mattress.
Damian's chest rose and fell beneath him, the muscles of his arms flexing slightly in protest. His smirk was lazy, teasing. "You don't want me to touch you?"
Micah shook his head, his hips rolling ever so slightly over Damian's, rubbing his dick against his, feeling the friction even through the thin barrier of the towel still wrapped around Damian's waist.
"That's not what I need tonight," Micah whispered. His voice was steady, but inside, he was buzzing. Desperate. But not for Damian's hands, not for his usual brand of control.
"I want to watch you fall apart for me," Micah said. "Then we can talk about you touching me."
Damian let out a low groan, bucking his hips slightly like an impatient thoroughbred. "You're killing me here, love."
Micah smirked.
Good.
He tilted his head, dragging his mouth along Damian's jaw, then down to his neck, his tongue tracing the faint hint of stubble. He left marks as he moved—tiny bruises blooming against flushed skin, imprinting himself upon the man who had cared for him for over two years.
The man whose heart he was planning to break.
Micah pushed away the thought and focused on Damian's body.
He kissed lower, down the slope of Damian's collarbone, over his sternum. His lips found Damian's left nipple, and he bit down gently, running his tongue over the sensitive peak.
Damian arched, a soft, breathy "Fuck—" spilling from his lips.
Micah smirked against his skin.
Damian had always been sensitive there, just a little attention could make him fall apart.
Damian's fingers twitched above his head, but he didn't move them.
Good boy.
Micah let go of Damian's wrists, but Damian kept his hands in place— leaving himself completely at Micah's mercy.
Micah's fingers replaced his mouth, pinching and rolling Damian's nipples while he trailed his tongue lower, tasting him.
Damian was watching him.
Micah felt it—the heat of those blue eyes following his every movement. He glanced up as he made his pilgrimage across Damian's body and met Damian's gaze. For a second, something inside him twisted.
Damian was looking at him with so much trust, so much love—like Micah wasn't a ghost in his bed, a man with one foot already out the door.
"You're perfect," Damian mouthed.
It hurt.
Micah dropped his gaze, swallowed down the feeling, and continued his way down Damian's body.
He reached the towel at Damian's waist and knelt up, watching the way Damian's body trembled with anticipation.
The towel was doing a terrible job at hiding Damian's arousal.
Micah pulled it away.
Damian's cock stood at full attention, flushed and leaking, beautiful in the dim light.
Micah's mouth watered.
He gripped Damian's length and, like it was his favourite flavour of licked the tip, savouring the salty precum on his tongue. Micah moaned, he wanted this monster inside him.
But priorities.
Damian moaned. Because Micah wasted no time in taking Damian's throbbing cock into his mouth.
"Holy shi—"
Micah moaned and Damian's dick twitched like he was seconds away from coming. Micah stroked the tip with his tongue, laving the slit and Damian shuddered, his back arching, his fingers gripping the sheets like he was holding himself back. His moans vibrated through Micah's body, those pleas were his favourite sound.
He liked Damian like this.
Desperate. Needy.
He hollowed his cheeks, taking him deeper, and Damian let out a guttural, broken moan.
"Micah—fuck, love—"
Micah bobbed his head, pumping Damian in time with the motion. He savoured the taste of him, the salty sweetness of sweat and arousal and pre-cum. He pulled back and suckled the stiff, red head of Damian's cock and Damian's hands found his hair. His fingers gripped and raked across Micah's scalp— tearing a moan out of Micah— but his hands weren't directing or controlling.
He was letting Micah set the pace. Letting Micah take what he wanted.
So Micah took.
The sound of Damian's moans, breathless pants and pleas filled the room, mixing nicely with the sound of Micah's hungry sucking.
Damian twitched, his thighs tensing. His stomach flexed, his breath hitched, and then—
"Micah!"
He came with a choked moan, his entire body shuddering beneath Micah.
Micah swallowed, slowly pulling back, his tongue swiping over his lips as he met Damian's dazed, half-lidded gaze.
Damian swallowed hard, hopeful, breathless. "My turn?"
Micah smirked.
"Oh, I'm not done with you yet."
Damian let out something between a whine and a groan as Micah urged him onto his hands and knees. He obeyed, resting his forearms against the mattress, his back arched, his body waiting.
Micah ran his hands down Damian's back, feeling the tension coiling under his skin. He pressed a kiss to the dip of his spine. His height hand located Damian's dick again and was pleased to find it still hard even after an orgasm like that.
He began stroking slowly, using the lubrication of his spit and Damian's cum to torture the man. Damian was hot, almost feverish. Micah revelled in the feeling that came with bringing such a powerful man to his knees— literally.
With his free hand, he spread apart Damian's ass cheeks, watching his target pucker in anticipation. He kissed the hole before circling it with the tip of his tongue.
Damian moaned, his entire body trembling.
Micah ate Damian's ass as he stroked his dick, teasing the hole with his warm, wet tongue, sucking, preparing the trembling man for what was coming next. He pulled back slightly, mindlessly reaching for the bottle of lube Damian had left on the bedside table before they left for the club poured some onto his hand, warming it, before pressing his pinkie between Damian's cheeks.
"Fucking hell!" Damian roared.
And Micah resisted the urge to make the joke, 'No, I'm fucking you.'
He dug his pinkie into Damian steadily, biting back a moan of his own as the muscles clenched around the digit and swallowed it to the last knuckle. He pumped a few more times before he pulled back and fit his ring finger along with his pinkie into the man writhing before him. Damian started to move, thrusting his hips, fucking himself on Micah's fingers like he'd never wanted anything more than to be possessed by Micah.
He moaned, his toes curling, his breath ragged. "Please, Micah. I need you."
Music to Micah's ears.
Micah withdrew his fingers and started stroking himself with the same hand, slicking himself up with the lune and spit.
He positioned himself behind Damian and his hands settled on Damian's hips, fingers digging in just enough to ground them both.
"You want me inside, baby?" he murmured, knowing full well the answer.
Damian nodded frantically, his fingers clutching at the sheets. "Yes. Fuck, yes. Please, Micah."
Micah pushed in, a groan tearing from his throat as Damian squeezed around him, taking him in.
He wanted to wait, he wanted to go slow. But Damian was praying a litany of 'Yes! Yes! Please Micah!' he humped himself on Micah's dick like he was determined to break every last shred of Micah's self control and, damn, it was working.
Micah's cock slipped out and bumped against Damian's ass and Damian pleaded, "Put it back in" as if he couldn't bear another moment of separation.
"Fuck, you're relentless," Micah murmured, fitting his dick back into the warm, welcoming hole.
The sound Damian made would've been a chuckle if he wasn't too busy panting. "You're dating a go-getter."
Micah's restraint finally broke. He growled, low and feral, as his hands tightened on Damian's hips. He pulled him backwards, burying himself deep and claiming Damian in a rhythm that left them both breathless.
Micah tangled his fingers in Damian's golden hair and pulled, bringing him upright, pressing their bodies together, chest to back.
He kissed the curve of Damian's neck, memorizing the way he moaned, shuddered, melted against him.
Damian tilted his head and found Micah's lips in a kiss that was lacking in any semblance of control or grace. They kissed like starving men devouring their last supper, like drowning souls gasping for air. Damian was poisoned, Micah was the antidote. Micah was feral, Damian was prey.
It was messy, desperate, and utterly consuming, as if the world outside had ceased to exist and all that remained was the heat of their shared breath and the frantic press of their bodies.
Micah reached down and wrapped a hand around Damian's cock and, stroking him in time with his thrusts.
Damian's head fell back against his shoulder, his voice wrecked. "Oh fuck—fuck, I'm gonna cum—"
Micah was close too.
So close.
Micah tightened his grip, angled deeper, and whispered, "Now, baby. Come for me."
Damian gasped, a raw, wrecked sound tearing from his throat. His entire body tensed—fingers twisting in Micah's hair, spine curving into a perfect bow—as he shouted Micah's name. Pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave and he came in hot, sticky spurts over Micah's hand.
Micah followed a heartbeat later, his world tilting, the pleasure rolling through him so intensely that, for a moment, he forgot everything. Forgot the past. Forgot the future. Forgot what came next.
All that existed was Damian—Damian, shaking, breathless, ruined in his arms—and for a fleeting second, Micah let himself believe that they could have this forever.
And, when they were both empty and spent, Damian collapsed forward, panting against the sheets.
Micah stroked his hair, breathing heavily, his hand still warm with Damian's release.
"…Micah…" Damian mumbled, his voice slurred with exhaustion.
Micah hummed, "Yes, Damian?"
But Damian was already asleep.
Micah exhaled slowly, staring down at him.
He had burned this moment into his memory—Damian content, undone, completely his.
Damian murmured his name in his sleep, a soft, contented sigh. Micah's chest ached at the sound.
He wanted to stay like this.
Just a little longer.
But it couldn't be.