It was almost like when they were younger, struggling together with their urges, desperate for release and heat. There's fumbling and it's sloppy and reckless, but they pull the clothes off one another, ripping shirts, popping buttons and damn near breaking zippers to get pants off. All while blindly making out and barely breaking for air.
He finally lays back on the cot, panting, over-heated and aching. Mick just has a damned way of making almost too hot to stand it. He lifts his hips when the other tugs at the last of his clothes, pulling his underwear off of slender hips while sweetly begging for it in the sound of his name.
He'd died. He'd lost Mick over and over again. He'd regretting not acting on things sooner. Sure, even as teenagers they experimented, fooling around well into their 20s breaking off and coming back. As they got older it calmed down. He and Mick never really took it all the way, it was always sort of heated and lost in the moment. Mick often buried his lust in women. There was mixed signals. A quick hand job, an occasional blow job, all hands and teeth and lips and tongue and fire and ice. It came and went. It raged in them but neither ever got that far. It was usually Len that said no.
Having sex with Mick was too much like having a relationship with him. They both wanted each other, but neither were willing to give in to their feelings towards one another. What if it became more than blind lust and the excitement of a good score? What if it became more than just enjoying the victory and getting drunk and sloppy together? At the time, he couldn't risk complicating things between them. They were partners. He needed Mick's head in the game. He need HIS head in the game. He couldn't risk what connection they had by complicating it with sex.
He regretted it. He regretted never telling Mick the truth and giving him what they both so clearly wanted from one another. He still didn't want to complicate things with feelings, but after dying, he felt like he missed so much by not complicating things. By not trying. By not feeling. He's fixing that. He's making amends and doing all the things he wished he'd done before he died. Right here, right now while he could still have it. Before the inevitable happened and Sara and Mick went home to save everyone without him.
He runs his long fingers over that close shaved head and massages them into his skin. He'll worry his bottom lip as he's laid bare, watching his partner and debating just how he wants this to go. After a moment he'll sit up pushing Mick onto his back so he can throw long legs around his waist and straddle him. He spreads his hands over that broad chest, caressing up over his collarbones and back down his belly. He shifts his clothes off his waist, pulling them down to mid thigh so his cock can stand free and tall.
He'll turn, flipping around so his knees are on either side of Mick's head and his cock hangs in his face. In the mean time he tosses a bottle of lube at him and bows his head to plunge that cock into his mouth. Mick's still recovering, like hell Len was going to let him do anything too strenuous, so he's prepared to do most of the topping this time, but Mick can make use of his hands and mouth awhile.
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He finally lays back on the cot, panting, over-heated and aching. Mick just has a damned way of making almost too hot to stand it. He lifts his hips when the other tugs at the last of his clothes, pulling his underwear off of slender hips while sweetly begging for it in the sound of his name.
He'd died. He'd lost Mick over and over again. He'd regretting not acting on things sooner. Sure, even as teenagers they experimented, fooling around well into their 20s breaking off and coming back. As they got older it calmed down. He and Mick never really took it all the way, it was always sort of heated and lost in the moment. Mick often buried his lust in women. There was mixed signals. A quick hand job, an occasional blow job, all hands and teeth and lips and tongue and fire and ice. It came and went. It raged in them but neither ever got that far. It was usually Len that said no.
Having sex with Mick was too much like having a relationship with him. They both wanted each other, but neither were willing to give in to their feelings towards one another. What if it became more than blind lust and the excitement of a good score? What if it became more than just enjoying the victory and getting drunk and sloppy together? At the time, he couldn't risk complicating things between them. They were partners. He needed Mick's head in the game. He need HIS head in the game. He couldn't risk what connection they had by complicating it with sex.
He regretted it. He regretted never telling Mick the truth and giving him what they both so clearly wanted from one another. He still didn't want to complicate things with feelings, but after dying, he felt like he missed so much by not complicating things. By not trying. By not feeling. He's fixing that. He's making amends and doing all the things he wished he'd done before he died. Right here, right now while he could still have it. Before the inevitable happened and Sara and Mick went home to save everyone without him.
He runs his long fingers over that close shaved head and massages them into his skin. He'll worry his bottom lip as he's laid bare, watching his partner and debating just how he wants this to go. After a moment he'll sit up pushing Mick onto his back so he can throw long legs around his waist and straddle him. He spreads his hands over that broad chest, caressing up over his collarbones and back down his belly. He shifts his clothes off his waist, pulling them down to mid thigh so his cock can stand free and tall.
He'll turn, flipping around so his knees are on either side of Mick's head and his cock hangs in his face. In the mean time he tosses a bottle of lube at him and bows his head to plunge that cock into his mouth. Mick's still recovering, like hell Len was going to let him do anything too strenuous, so he's prepared to do most of the topping this time, but Mick can make use of his hands and mouth awhile.