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Maybe it doesn’t count if Dennis doesn’t look at Mac when he says it – if Dennis buries his face in Mac’s neck, where the scent of his sweat and his nerves is strongest, where he needs to get it right. Dennis can feel it, humming under Mac’s skin. He’s almost as tense as Dennis. Or maybe it’s not fair to treat it like a competition when Mac’s the one who brought this to him in the first place, the one who makes it okay.
Whatever. Dennis is still going to win.
‘Love your pussy,’ Mac murmurs, and Dennis twitches, fingers digging into the back of Mac’s neck. That’s the problem; Mac’s so sweet when he says it. It’s not degrading – not amused or mean or any of the things that Dennis could take easier, could fold into himself and accept that he deserves. Easier to take and easier to stop, too. ‘Love my fingers sinking in, baby. So fucking wet for me.’
Dennis sucks in a breath made of razors. His throat’s dry as a fucking bone, skin too hot where Mac’s laid over him, always overheated and thick with muscle when he presses, presses Dennis down against the bed. It’s too fucking hot for this bullshit; Dennis should have said no. No, Mac, it’s too hot. No, Mac, remember how the A/C broke last week? Remember how we can’t even fucking sleep? It’s too hot, baby. You’ll see my makeup sweating off onto the pillow.
Dennis can hear himself breathing. It sounds almost like he’s trembling, if he listens hard enough.
‘Always so open for me, Den,’ Mac says. He swallows, his fingers pushing deeper. Dennis hears himself make a faint noise, needy. Fucking embarrassing. He’s flushed all the way up his neck, felt the red spreading over him as soon as Mac muscled his thighs apart, made him plant his feet flat to the bed. Eyes squeezed shut so, so tight; Mac’s voice so warm and coaxing where it reaches him. ‘Always so wet, like –’
Mac pauses, makes a sound like he’s licking his lips and Dennis freezes – well, as close as he can get when his chest is lifting and falling so heavy. If one of them’s going to fuck up the game, he’d rather it not be him. Even if it feels like he’s holding a flinch inside, now, waiting for Mac to get it wrong.
But Mac’s voice just gets rougher, deeper; permissive enough to make Dennis shiver and cant his hips up into the touch of his hand. ‘Like I could slip my fingers inside anytime and you’d be ready, waiting for me. Slick up without me even touching you, baby. You’d spread your legs for me anytime, wouldn’t you?’
Dennis is biting his lip hard and rolling his hips down into it by the end of this little speech, feeling the sweat jump out on his forehead. All he gets out is gasps, and that – that’s close enough to what Mac wants, probably.
Fuck, Dennis doesn’t know what he wants.
‘You don’t even like pussy,’ he’d spat after the first time Mac said it. He remembers the way the light had been hitting Mac’s face, the streetlight from outside – it was that kind of moment, one where the physical details get burned into your memory like the after impression of the flash when a camera goes off. The light was strobing through the half-pulled curtains behind the bed because Dennis always liked to leave them a little open; liked the faint suggestion that someone might see or hear what Mac was doing to him. What Dennis was letting him do.
Mac had been moving over him, tongue flicking out in little kitten licks over Dennis’s asshole, the bars of light rippling over his beautiful face and catching in his eyes when he said gently, so gently that Dennis could barely believe it, ‘God, you’re pretty. Prettier’n any pussy I’ve ever seen, babe.’
And Dennis had gone – rigid, his breath stuck in his chest. Mac probably didn’t mean anything by it but he couldn’t stop the way his dick twitched, all the same.
Mac’s eyes shot straight to it, narrowing. A heartbeat passed and then another, and then a handful more, and then –
‘You like that?’ Mac had asked, low and kind of warm. Indulgent. Dennis closed his eyes against it but it didn’t fucking help. He knew what kind of look would be on Mac’s face anyhow; knew it from all the other times Mac had dug something out of him that Dennis hadn’t even known was there. ‘You like me saying that, baby? Saying what a pretty pussy you have?’
Dennis twitched, wanting to stop it, or – something. Wanting something, centre of his palms itching with the need. Blood thumping in time with the tick of a clock he couldn’t hear but feel, deep in the base of his stomach.
Mac said to him, in a slightly different voice: ‘Dennis, are you –’
‘Shut up,’ Dennis said tightly, and then Mac said, ‘Okay,’ and bent his head again, licking back into him. He let his tongue go flat and broad against the sensitive skin for a second before he blew on it just to make Dennis jump, hole clenching at the brush of air.
‘Dick,’ Dennis complained.
‘Pussy,’ Mac said back, kind of laughing now.
Dennis kicked out at his ribs, not really aiming properly. He let his foot stay there, toes drifting back and forth over Mac’s side.
‘Pussy,’ Mac said again softly, watching Dennis’s face as he slipped the tip of his finger inside, pressing at his rim. It was wet from Mac’s saliva and nothing else yet but he slid in so easy, like he was meant to be there. Could probably slide in all the way to the knuckle and it’d feel nothing but good to clench around. God. ‘Such pretty pussy for me.’
Dennis didn’t say anything. He tried to swallow and it got caught in his throat, dry.
It didn’t. It didn’t make any sense, there was nothing there for Mac to be talking about, it didn’t – it wasn’t.
But.
‘Slick, baby,’ Mac told him, knees shifting against the bed to spread his legs and grind his cock down into the mattress as he sunk onto his elbows between Dennis’s legs. It stuck his ass up, made it good for Dennis to stare. ‘So fucking open, makes me want to get my cock inside.’ He shuddered in a breath, swallowing hard, and that was the first time Dennis thought: shit. It’s getting him, too. ‘Gonna feel your pussy tighten up around me when you come.’
Dennis had pulled his knees up to his chest then, tipping his head back so he didn’t have to see Mac’s face while he did it, but he didn’t – he didn’t say no.
After, when Dennis was giving him hell, Mac’s face had been really, really fucking red. ‘I know, Dennis.’
‘You’re gay, Mac.’
‘I know,’ Mac said again, louder. ‘I fucking remember.’
‘Do you?’ Dennis asked, hearing his voice rise up into the ranks of the hysterical and completely unable to stop it. It hurt, was the thing – it was twisting around inside him somewhere, carving out some complicated space in his stomach. He wanted to hit Mac in the face with the flat of his hand; he wanted to beat him until the word came out again. ‘Do you know what the fuck you’re doing? Do you know even one fucking thing about this, Mac?’
‘About what?’ Mac asked, finally casting his hands up, exasperated. Sure, he was pissed, but he was also just fucking tired, the way that being with Dennis tires everyone out eventually. Mac had more reason to feel that way than most. ‘It’s not fucking rocket science, Dennis. It doesn’t fucking matter, it doesn’t mean anything –’
‘But you’re not even into it,’ Dennis argued. ‘You don’t like –’ he had to force himself to say it –‘you’re not even into pussy, Mac.’
‘I’m into you,’ Mac said bluntly. He kneed his way further up the bed to Dennis, ducking to catch his eye when Dennis tried to look away. Mac took him by the chin and tilted his face up until he had to look at Mac or close his eyes. ‘I’m into everything about you, Den.’
Dennis scoffed, or tried to. He jerked his face away from Mac’s hand so he could do it more effectively. ‘That’s bullshit.’ God, his heart was still going crazy. Amphetamine-crazy. ‘You shouldn’t say –’
‘Jesus, Dennis, it doesn’t mean anything,’ Mac said again, louder. Irritated. ‘If I want to say I love your pussy and we both get off on it, who the fuck does it hurt?’
Me, Dennis almost said. But he’s pretty fucking glad he didn’t.
‘I could fuck you in the back room at the bar,’ Mac’s saying now, half lost in the dream himself. His breath brushes Dennis’s ear, makes him shiver; his hand is working hard between Dennis’s legs, getting his fingers deep inside. The webbing between them rubs at Dennis’s rim and Dennis’s stomach kicks hard, lurching. Mac’s always careful with him like this – wary of hangnails and brute force and anything that might hurt in a way Dennis doesn’t want – but once he puts the full strength of his arm behind it, it knocks the breath out of Dennis’s chest. He’s come on those fingers more times than he has on his own. ‘Wouldn’t even need to turn you around, just – pull your pants down and slip in easy, fuck you up against the wall. Pussy so wet around my cock, baby, so fucking wet –’
Mac pulls in a shuddering breath and drags his head down, out of Dennis’s clutching fingers. Dennis makes a needy noise and tries to bring him back up. He can’t hide in Mac’s neck if it isn’t fucking there. But Mac’s in his own world now, shuffling down to the foot of the bed so gracelessly that Dennis almost laughs, a helpless tangle of feeling in his chest. He can’t –
Mac looks up at him, blinking. He can’t.
‘Do you want me to get the vibrator, baby?’ Mac asks, drawing his finger gently over the length of Dennis’s cock. He starts at the wet tip, circling it gently with a fingertip before trailing a line of slick all the way down to the base and rubbing at it, slow drags that never build up to enough pressure.
Dennis shivers convulsively, jerking his hips up. There’s a ball of need in his stomach and it’s pulsing, pulsing in time with Mac’s fingers. Mac makes a nonsense soothing noise and watches his face as he circles Dennis’s prostate with his other hand, a steady deep pressure inside. He’s using two but it feels more like three, not enough lube and the stretch of Dennis’s hole edging into soreness, the well-fucked kind that makes Dennis draw his knees up and bear down into it, feet flat to the bed. He knows he can’t be pretty right now – red and sweating with his face all twisted up – but he’ll take ugly if the rest stays, too. He hadn’t known sex could be like this. They barely used to brake long enough to undress when they were younger.
‘Stroke it over your clit and make you come on my face, huh?’ Mac continues, dropping to lap at the head of Dennis’s dick.
Dennis moans and arches up into the pinprick pleasure of his tongue before Mac draws back again, leaving him to pant. He thumps his hand against the mattress, squirming. They bought a bullet vibe for this exact purpose – for Mac to tease him with, trail it over Dennis’s cock and jolt him with little electric bursts of pleasure while he calls it Dennis’s clit, watch him shiver and take it and do nothing but pant until Mac finally condescends to slide his hand over the hot length of Dennis’s dick and give him something to fuck.
Last time they did this Dennis was so wound up he came as soon as Mac touched the head of his cock, spurted all over Mac’s abs at the brush of his thumb. He’d been so hard he was dripping with it, fucking embarrassing; hips jerking into mid-air as he came, a weird arrested orgasm that left him gasping and shivery and twitching. Stripped down to what’s beneath speech. Mac is so, so good at this. It makes Dennis kind of afraid to ask why, where he learned to pay so much attention – first in case Mac gives him a name, second in case he says no one ever taught him at all.
‘Why do I want it?’ had burst out of Dennis a couple of weeks ago when they were out eating lunch. Well, Mac was. Dennis was drinking black coffee and watching him eat a donut, the jelly sticky and purple-pink where it dripped down over his fingers. He paused and licked them while he blinked at Dennis, waiting for an explanation; just a tilt to the left and he would have been cocking his head like a dog.
Dennis saw exactly when he got it – when he registered what the warmth of Dennis’s cheeks meant. He snorted, rolling his eyes.
‘Because it feels wrong,’ he supplied, like it was just that easy. ‘And that makes it like, dirty hot or whatever.’ He cleared his throat, cramming the remains of the donut in his mouth. ‘Like a lot of the stuff we do.’
Dennis shifted in his seat, staring at Mac’s hands. He probably wouldn’t object if Dennis caught him by the wrist and pulled it over here across the table, licked his fingers clean. His eyes would go so big and wide, admiring, that look he gets like Dennis could do anything, like he’d never – like he can’t even think of saying no. He said he was into everything Dennis did but Dennis knows, he knows that can’t be true.
‘Not everything we do is wrong,’ Dennis said, digging his voice up from somewhere. Mac almost jumped, eyes lifting from Dennis’s mouth. Not the only one, then. ‘Not like – not like that.’
‘Well, I mean, that’s not really wrong either,’ Mac said quietly, leaning across the table. ‘You know that, right?’ He pulled a face at Dennis’s cocked eyebrow. ‘Alright, so it’s a little out there, but it’s not bad. We’ve both seen way worse shit on the internet.’ He paused. ‘Probably done a lot of it, too.’
‘I don’t need sex lessons from you,’ Dennis said coldly. ‘I know what wrong feels like.’
‘Right,’ Mac said, refusing to get mad. So quick to anger in all circumstances but this, when what Dennis wants is all spread out on the table for him to point and laugh at. ‘But sometimes something’s hot just because you’ve been told you shouldn’t want it, right? And that’s like – that’s not bad, that’s just, you know. Being human.’
Dennis squinted at him in disbelief. ‘I’m familiar with the concept. When did you get so fucking wise about it?’
Mac rolled his eyes but he was flushing, just slightly.
‘It’s in the bible, right,’ he explained. ‘Eve gets told she can’t have the apple and then she gets all horny for it and whatever. It’s basic human instinct.’
Dennis opened his mouth and then closed it again. ‘I think Eve eating from the tree of knowledge is a little different than –’
‘Why?’ Mac interrupted. ‘She was naked too, Den. And don’t tell me they didn’t get up to some freaky shit once they left the garden. The Old Testament is whack.’
‘Jesus Christ, Mac.’
‘Look, I’m not saying I know everything,’ Mac argued, sitting back with a humph of expelled air. He chewed his lip, staring past Dennis’s shoulder. What came next was mumbled: ‘Just, I’ve had longer to get used to some of this shit than you.’
What an absurd thing to say. No one had had longer to get used to the vicissitudes of their kinks than Dennis, who’d been fucking around since he was a kid. No one knew themselves better. No one had fucking trained for this like Dennis had.
He shouldn’t have asked. Dangerous to put himself in Mac’s hands like that, when all it would take was one answer he didn’t like and the whole thing would slide sideways into something he couldn’t bear to look at: sordid, greasy to the touch.
‘Did you ever.’ Dennis’s throat clicked, the words hard and oblong. ‘Did you ever, before we – did you ever think about it, before?’
Mac shook his head and Dennis’s stomach sank. He let his eyes drop to the table and kept them there, drumming his fingertips on the sticky plastic. Shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have asked. Mac couldn’t find himself if he was given a map and a helicopter. What the fuck did he know?
Mac sighed. He got up and came around to Dennis’s side of the booth, shoving at him gently until Dennis gave it up with a scowl and slid further in towards the window. Mac sat down next to him and put his hand on Dennis’s knee under the table, squeezing out of habit.
‘It’s hot because it gets to you so much,’ he said, voice quiet but so close Dennis didn’t have to strain to hear. ‘In case you were wondering.’ He swallowed, fingers tight as they slid up Dennis’s thigh. ‘I can see – when I do it, I can see you shaking, you want it that bad. You wouldn’t let anybody else see you like that. Wouldn’t let anybody else give you what you need.’
He was breathing hard now; Dennis too. It was embarrassing how little it took, but that was only something Dennis registered later, once he was out from under that sticky pulse of heat between his legs.
He put his hand on top of Mac’s under the table and gripped it hard.
Mac’s mouth brushed his ear. ‘And you really are so pretty, Den.’
Dennis’s hand spasmed on Mac’s. His skin felt stripped back, tight; his mouth so fucking dry. They barely made it out to the car.
‘You don’t need –’ he starts now, getting tangled up between past and present. You don’t need to say that to me. You don’t need – ‘the vibrator, I want –’
‘No,’ Mac says, already there. ‘I know what you want, Den. Want me to suck your clit like this?’
He sucks delicately on the head of Dennis’s dick and Dennis groans quietly. Mac’s not nasty about it, just – slow. Considered, like he loves it; like he wants Dennis to really feel what he’s doing, every lick and rub of his tongue.
Mac pulls off gently, fingers wrapping around the shaft. Not doing anything with it, just holding. Dennis twitches.
‘I know what you need,’ Mac says, all quiet and rough. He twists his fingers carefully inside, rubbing against his prostate to drag out a shiver. Dennis grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, toes curling. ‘Need something in your pussy, don’t you?’
Dennis doesn’t answer, just bucks up while panting, tries to circle himself down into Mac’s fingers. He’s still got his eyes tightly closed or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself watching Mac’s face for what it does to him, seeing Dennis like this. So many times Dennis has looked over at someone during sex and been afraid they wouldn’t be there, somehow. Mac always is.
‘You want this?’ Mac asks. He pulls out, wiping his fingers on the sheets and pulling Dennis down the bed towards him, into the cradle of his lap. He taps the head of his cock against Dennis’s hole, wet and sticky; circles it to spark up the nerves. Dennis shudders, upper body trying to twist away even as he shoves down into it. God. God. ‘You want this in your cunt?’
Dennis turns his face into the pillow, trying to escape the yes, but –
‘So fucking greedy,’ Mac says, voice all low and wanting like it gets when it’s just the two of them, just Mac and him in their bed at the base of the fucking world. His breath hitches when he rubs two fingers along the crease of Dennis’s ass, dipping inside his hole and then back out, a tease so gentle and sweet it makes Dennis grind his face into the pillow, mouth open and panting. ‘Such needy pussy, baby. Think you could take my cock and my fingers, too?’
‘Jesus,’ Dennis pants. His fingers curl into the palms of his hands as he humps his hips up helplessly, dick bobbing against his stomach. Mac isn’t holding it anymore so it’s just – throbbing, fucking aching to be touched. The sticky-hot air curling over Mac’s cooling saliva, all shivery-sensitive skin.
Mac runs his fingers down Dennis’s thigh, watching his face intently. ‘Is that what you want?’
‘I don’t –’
‘I think you could,’ Mac says, voice low and worshipful as he thrusts his fingers back inside, aiming for what makes Dennis keen and striking it, rubbing hard. Dennis tips his head back on the pillow, hole clenching around Mac’s fingers. Fuck, he can feel the drag of his muscles around them every time Mac pulls halfway out. ‘So fucking good for me, you’d take whatever you could, wouldn’t you? So perfect.’
Dennis’s next breath comes out shuddering, almost a dry sob. Mac crawls up over him, making mindless soothing sounds while Dennis’s hands fasten themselves immediately around his shoulders, whole body rising up to meet him. God, if Dennis remembered better how this felt, in between – if he didn’t get so blown out of his head every time – he’d dig his heels into Mac’s back and never let him leave.
Mac meets his eye as he presses the tip of his cock to Dennis’s hole, the first inch sliding in so easy they both groan.
‘God, you feel so good,’ Mac tells him, his eyes pools of dark. ‘I don’t even need to push.’
‘Fuck,’ Dennis whines, trying to grind down on it, get him deeper inside.
‘You want it?’ Mac asks, so fucking close. He’s holding himself hard around the base of his cock like he has to force himself to keep still and his face is red, flushed, almost dazed. Jesus. Even if Dennis didn’t want it so much it’d be worth it, to see him like this. No one can be open like Mac is open; no one can beg like he can. ‘You need me in your pussy, Den?’
‘Yes,’ Dennis says on a sobbing breath. ‘Jesus, I need it, come on –’
Mac swears and drops his head as he starts really pushing inside, past the easy slickness of the first inch; the blunt force of his cock stills the words in Dennis’s throat. They come out in a cut-off groan, a helpless roll up of Dennis’s hips trying to adjust.
Mac pauses when he gets halfway, dropping his head, the line of his shoulders tense and trembling. They’re both breathing scattered and loud, out of pace with each other. Dennis clutches Mac’s biceps, squeezing sporadically. So much like being punched, that first thrust inside; the same swoop in his stomach every time, breath knocked out of his chest. He feels too full to think.
‘Mac,’ he says in a hurt voice. ‘Fuck, Mac, please –’
‘I need to wait,’ Mac says, so, so strained; used to hearing this by now, the need that punctures Dennis’s discomfort, to get him in. He’s not looking at Dennis, eyes narrowed and focused somewhere around his collarbones. Like he knows if he makes eye contact, he won’t be able to stay still. ‘You know I need to wait, baby.’
Dennis leans up as much as he can and kisses Mac’s chin with a brush of lips, panting; kisses his cheek and his mouth and the side of his nose, both hands on his face.
‘But you said I was open,’ he says shakily, not even really having to fake it. Mac’s hands tighten spasmodically on his thighs. ‘You said I was open, said I was wet – said I needed it, Mac, you said you’d give me what I need –’
‘Oh my God,’ Mac says, ducking down to grind his forehead into Dennis’s neck, his hips jolting forward and forcing out a hungry moan. ‘Oh my God, Dennis.’
‘Please,’ Dennis mumbles, kissing his face again. ‘I’m fine, I want – fuck me, I want –’
‘I know,’ Mac says, groaning. ‘Jesus, I know, just –’
‘So do it,’ Dennis demands, and Mac throws up his hands and finally fucking does – pulls out and fucks back in again, as careful as he can be considering Dennis only took two fingers before this. But it punches a noise out of Dennis anyway, one that makes Mac shudder even as his shoulders tense. If Dennis could talk he’d tell Mac it was good, all good; that he wants that shivery roughness, the sore stretch of it. He wants it like that so he can feel it tomorrow, have Mac lick inside him and fuck him gently with his fingers while it’s still tender enough to make him whine. Mac can be so, so gentle when he wants to be. When Dennis wants.
He spreads his legs as far as they can go for it, tipping his head back on the pillow and heaving in a breath. Jesus, it’s so fucking much.
‘Love it when you tell me,’ Mac pants, hair brushing rhythmically against the sweaty curve of Dennis’s neck as he snaps his hips, hot slap of skin on skin so fucking loud. ‘I love it, needy fucking pussy for me, so fucking good, Den, I –’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Dennis gets out, more like breaths being fucked out of him. Mac’s thrusts are pushing him up the bed; he reaches up and grabs the headboard to bolster him so he can brace down against it, tilt his hips to get it where he needs. He lets out a startled noise when Mac hits it, stretching out into a groan.
‘Fucking swollen for me,’ Mac says, pausing and grinding himself in deep. Dennis’s mouth drops open soundlessly and Mac ducks down to kiss him through it, sloppy and wet, before he picks up the rhythm again. ‘All puffed up, so fucking sweet. Nothing like your cunt, I swear to God –’
Dennis is panting desperately, dick trapped between them and grinding up against skin with every thrust. He squirms a hand down to touch it, just rub his palm against the head, and he clenches around Mac so hard they both gasp.
‘Jesus,’ Mac groans, his hips jolting. He’s getting stiffer inside, even harder to squeeze around. Fuck, he’s so deep. ‘I’m not gonna – I’m –’
‘Come, I want you to come,’ Dennis breathes in a rush, pulling his hand off the headboard and curving it around the back of Mac’s head. ‘I just wanted you to get inside, I want –’ He chokes down a breath, moaning when Mac joins his hand to Dennis’s wrapped around his cock and tries to jerk him even though the angle’s shit, can’t stop the words flooding out amid the rush of sensation –‘fuck, I want – want you to eat it out after you come, Mac, eat it out of my pussy –’
‘Jesus fuck,’ Mac spits. He thrusts inside a couple more times, so deep and hard it makes Dennis’s toes curl, and groans as he comes, folding hard over Dennis’s chest.
‘Fuck,’ Dennis gasps, still clenching around him when Mac starts pulling out. He kisses Dennis’s stomach, his palm, as he drags himself down Dennis’s body, shoving Dennis’s legs up to his chest. He inhales sharply when he sees Dennis’s hole.
‘Jesus, you’re sloppy,’ he says, burying his face in it before Dennis can make a sound.
Dennis squeezes his eyes shut, stroking his cock frantically as Mac licks him, tongue sparking the roughed-up nerves. God, he can feel the come trickling out of him, lapped up by Mac’s tongue. He shudders, cock jerking in his hand.
Mac pulls off to breathe, his mouth wet and red. He fingers around Dennis’s rim, testing and pushing. ‘So open I could fuck you again,’ he murmurs. ‘So fucking wet and hot, pink, baby, God, you’re beautiful –’
‘Put your fingers inside,’ Dennis gets out, desperate, and Mac does – shoves two fingers inside him, into the wet mess Mac’s made of him, stroking right where he fucking needs to come, right where he needs, and Dennis comes so hard it shoots all the way up his chest and leaves him gasping, chest gaping with the need for air.
‘Fuck,’ he breathes, shuddering violently as Mac wrings more out of him from the inside. ‘Fuck.’
Mac stays there, looking up at him, while Dennis comes down. Hair all sweaty and sticking up in stupid directions, looking like he just got the workout of his life. Just waits between Dennis’s legs, keeps his fingers massaging gentle and sweet until Dennis reaches down and puts a hand on his wrist. His palm wraps around where Mac’s fingers pull out, sloppy and wet with come.
‘Up,’ he mumbles, tugging. ‘C’m up here.’
Mac climbs up over him on his hands and knees, wiping his fingers on the sheets. His softening dick trails slick and cooling over Dennis’s stomach, drawing out a shiver. Dennis parts his thighs wide for Mac to kneel between and strokes Mac’s hair with shaky hands, burying them to the root and clenching tight to try and make it stop. He closes his eyes, clinging.
‘Hey,’ Mac says, quiet and sure. He’s stroking Dennis’s sides gently. ‘You’re okay. Just us here.’
Dennis snorts, although it’s watery. ‘I know that.’
‘I know you do, baby.’ Mac doesn’t stop touching him.
‘Fuck.’ Dennis lets out a long slow breath and blinks his eyes open, staring up at Mac. He shakes his head and wraps his arms firm around Mac’s shoulders, pulling him down until Mac’s head is resting on his chest. Mac goes without a fight; probably just lies there smiling. Sap.
They drift for a while, sweat cooling on their skin and the rhythm of their breathing syncing up, until Mac says quietly, ‘I love the way you feel.’
Dennis has his eyes closed, but spiritually he’s rolling them. ‘Really? Wow, you never mentioned that.’
Mac pokes him in the ribs and Dennis gasps, ticklish. He can hear the smile in Mac’s voice when he continues: ‘Yeah, but like.’ He goes quiet; Dennis can almost hear the cogs in his brain working as he figures out how to say it. ‘I love the way you feel, you know? Like, you feel better inside than I think anyone else ever could. I’d never want you to be any different, not at all.’
Dennis just – breathes, slow and deep. ‘I know that.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Because I know I say a lot of shit when we –’
‘I know,’ Dennis cuts him off. The hand on Mac’s back trailing up and down his spine probably softens it, even though Mac can’t see his face. ‘I promise, Mac, I know.’
‘Okay,’ Mac says, and apparently that’s all she wrote – he nuzzles his face into the side of Dennis’s neck and lets his breathing sink into a deep and heavy rhythm, body too hot and too big weighing on Dennis’s chest. They can’t sleep like this; Dennis will suffocate. It’s a thousand fucking degrees in here.
He keeps stroking his hand over Mac’s back, listening to him breathing. He’ll tell him to move in a minute. They’ve got time.