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It felt like Felix had done it on purpose, leaving the door to the dressing room cracked, knowing how Oliver would be unable to resist the siren’s call of his moans. He had to know what he was doing, moaning like a whore, the sounds of his self-pleasure echoing in through their shared space, made all the louder and sweeter from the acoustics of the bathroom. How was Oliver supposed to stay away when Felix made such pretty noises, how was he not supposed to look through the crack in the door and watch him. Play witness to Felix’s little show.
He crept to the door and let himself look, let himself succumb to draw, give in to the temptation Felix had laid out before him. His eyes feasted hungrily on the site of Felix in the tub, hair wet with bath water, face flushed, water droplets and beads of sweat tracing down the perfection of his face, eyes closed against the sensation of pleasure, eyelashes sweeping over his cheekbones, mouth open and panting. He drank in the sight of the flex of his arm as he fucked into his fist, muscles playing under his golden skin, shiny and glowing, reflection of the rippling bath water highlighting the chiseled planes of his chest, heaving breaths bringing Oliver’s eyes to his nipples, peaked in arousal and the chill of the air. Oliver wanted to roll them under his tongue, see if they were sensitive as they looked. But the sound of the bathwater splashing against the tub, the noise of the disruption of the surface tension broken again and again brought his eyes to Felix’s cock, ruddy and thick in his hand. Oliver could almost curse the distortion of the water if not for the graceful sprawl of Felix in the tub, the way the water traced the very curves and dips of his body like Oliver wanted to.
Felix was lost in his own private ecstasy, soft sighs and pleased grunts spilling out of his pretty mouth. Oliver wanted to feel them vibrate against his lips, wanted to swallow them, devour them, consume every sound of pleasure Felix was capable of making. He wanted to bite down on his Adam's apple, mark up his throat with his teeth and tongue, leave proof of his possession on every empty inch, leave him love bitten and aching. He wanted to feel the bob of every rough swallow against his mouth as Felix panted for breath, to feel his golden god shiver and unspool beneath him, selfishly chasing his release. He wanted to whisper filth in his ear, tell how good he was doing, how beautiful he was. Tell him it's okay, to let it out, show him how good it felt. Make as much noise as he wanted, Oliver loved every sound. He wanted to bite down on his earlobe, drag the soft flesh between his teeth, suck the water and sweat for his skin, taste the soap and raw taste of Felix on his tongue, lap at his wet skin until only his saliva remained. He wanted to trace the hot flush of his face with his fingers, memorize the glow of his warm skin. He wanted to kiss and suck and worship his jawline, coaxing noises louder and louder from Felix’s throat. He wanted Felix to look at him, eyes subsumed by pupils, dark and hungry and wanting. He wanted to be lost in Felix’s desire, made a part of pleasure, the keystone to his release.
Throat tight Oliver watched, feeling himself grow hard in his pajamas, waiting for Felix to say something. To acknowledge him. To invite him to touch. He closed his eyes against the shaking and consuming desire drawing him deeper and deeper. He could see Felix imprinted against his eyelids, brilliant and vibrant, more beautiful than anything in a museum, more erotic than any porn Oliver had ever seen. His whole body craved to push open the door, to crawl into the steaming bath with him, to claim him, to make Felix his. But he couldn’t. He had to just watch, a prisoner to the grip of his own want, a voyeur to the holy pleasure of his great love. He would not touch himself. Not yet. Now was all about Felix, about memorizing the sight, the sounds, the smell of him. He was just here to spectate no matter how much he wanted to perform.
Felix was close. Oliver could tell. He got louder, hand gaining speed. Oliver dug his finger into his thigh hard enough to bruise, gripping himself with a strength he didn’t know he possessed, nauseous with hunger.
Felix mumbled something as he came, but Oliver’s blood was too loud in his ears to hear what he said, to catch the syllables before they were swallowed by a whine, mouth falling open, pink tongue wetting his bottom lip, the bath clouding with Felix’s cum. What a waste, Oliver thought, enjoying the spectacular finale, watching Felix’s cock pulse, his body shake. Felix was beautiful as he lay there trying to catch his breath, coming down from the high of his orgasm, marinating in his own filthy bath water for a moment. He could have come on Oliver, anointed him in his very essence. Oliver would have lapped it up, drank it down with vigor. He could have come in the wet heat of Oliver’s mouth, across his face, into his fist, between his thighs, anywhere he wanted, marking Oliver in the most primal of ways. He could have fed him the milky fluid, making Oliver beg for a taste and instead he came into the tub, soon to be drained, the precious resource wasted.
His eyes slipped shut again, imagined the taste of it on his tongue, the feeling of it hot and wet on his face. He let himself lose himself in the fantasy for just a moment before the sound of the drain being pulled startled his eyes open. He shrank back away from the door, accepting the game they were playing. He wasn’t invited in, wasn’t asked to taste, to touch, to share in Felix’s pleasure. He could wait.
He retreated back to his bedroom and gave Felix a moment to get dressed before turning around, making his footsteps loud as he approached the bathroom. He joined Felix in the room, the smell of sex hanging in the steamy air, Felix drying his hair with his towel, clothed in his pajamas, a smile on his face, before turning to his sink.
Oliver stood at his own vanity, brushing his teeth mechanically, ears keeping track of the water as it drained, taking the taste of Felix with it. Felix began to brush his own teeth and Oliver could feel his pulse race, skin tight. Would Felix say something now? He had left the door open, an unspoken invitation for Oliver to see, to witness, to experience him and his body. Would he finally speak it, give name to the thing that hung over them both? Would he cross that final distance?
Oliver was aware of every inch of his own body, every centimeter of distance they stood apart, every gesture and movement Felix made, tub loudly draining in the empty between them, the air heavy. When would it happen. When would the moment come.
“All right,” Felix said, clearing his throat. Oliver couldn’t breathe. He heard him set his toothbrush down. “Night, mate,” he said cheerfully, blowing Oliver a kiss before retreating off into his room, meeting his eyes briefing in the mirror. Oliver spit out his toothpaste and turned off the faucet, trying not to feel disappointed. Maybe Felix wasn’t ready yet to actually touch Oliver, to let himself be touched. That was all right. Oliver could wait.
But Oliver could hear the call of the bath though, loud and strong in his ears, every second taking more and more of Felix away from him, taking his chance to participate, to taste him, to feel him. He turned and looked at the bath over his shoulder, such a simple thing, such a dark temptation. He couldn’t help himself. His restraint had been eaten up, his will pushed beyond its limits. Straining against his pajamas, cock throbbing between his legs, Oliver crawled into the tub, feet settling in the shallow water.
He lowered himself to his knees, feeling the water soak into his night clothes, baptizing him in the evidence of Felix’s desire, his sacred want. He then lowered himself further, bringing his head to the base of the tub, eyes slipping shut in devotion, rubbing the cooling water against his face, smelling it, feeling it against his hot and needy skin. He bathed himself in it, sipping on its taste, taking communion in Felix’s pleasure, slaking his own thirst with the taste of such brilliant ecstasy. He guzzled it down, slurping at the holy water, tasting the soap and sweat and cum on his tongue, wishing he could taste more of the heavy musk of Felix’s skin, more of the bitter salt of his release. He lapped up every drop he could, following the cloudy water down the drain, profaning the blessed waters with tongue, tracing the drain like he would Felix’s flesh, trying to quench the fire that raged inside of him, trying to fulfill the need to become a part of Felix. His heavy breaths sounded so loud in the tub to his own ears as drank Felix down, as he supped on his holy wine, moaning, coating his hot face in the remaining drops.
“Ollie?” he heard from the door.
Oliver froze, bent in worship in the tub, damp and hard and wanting. How long had Felix been there? What had he seen? What had he heard?
“Felix,” Oliver said, face still pressed against the porcelain, eyes sliding open. Felix stood there, mouth hanging open in shock, face bright red, his pajama top missing, a suspicious bulge in his pajamas for someone who had come mere minutes ago.
“What are you doing, mate?” Felix asked unsteadily, eyes glued to Oliver, dark and intent, absently biting his bottom lip, no disgust curling his lip, no anger in his jaw.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Oliver asked, moving to sit back on his heels, exposing the wet from his tank top, the massive erection in his own pajamas. Felix inhaled sharply, eyes lingering on the way the wet fabric clung to Oliver.
“Looks like you were drinking my bath water,” Felix said, voice not giving away how he felt about it, but eyes, his eyes so lustful that Oliver almost choked.
“Wanted a taste,” Oliver replied, boldly meeting Felix’s gaze, moving to get out of the tub, stalking towards him, eyes on the way he could see Felix’s pulse thrum against the skin of his throat. “You put on quite the show.”
Felix’s hands clenched in the fabric on his pajamas, swallowing hard. “You saw that?”
Oliver stepped closer, smirk predatory. “You wanted me to see you.”
Felix shook his head slightly, wetting his lips nervously, voice impossibly deep and rough. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh come on, Felix,” Oliver said, close enough to Felix that he could smell the way the bath still clung to his skin, feel the heat radiating off him. “You mean to tell me you didn’t notice the way you left the door open? That you share a bathroom with all of your friends who come here? Moan so prettily every time you touch yourself?”
Felix exhaled shakily, eyes fixated on Oliver’s lips, looking torn between arching towards him and away, flushed darkening.
“You’re telling me you’re always that much of a slut,” Oliver continued, bringing his hand up to trace Felix’s naked chest, to touch the skin that he had been so cruelly teased with, “when you’re alone and touching yourself? You wanted me to find you. You wanted me to hear you, didn’t you, mate?”
Felix moaned, a shaky hand reaching out to grasp Oliver’s waist. “Yes,” he breathed. “Fuck, Oliver, I wanted you to see.”
Oliver brought his thumb to Felix’s lips, tracing their elegant bow before pressing against them, sinking into the warm, wet heat, pressing down on his tongue. “What did you want me to do, Felix? Did you want me to touch myself to the sight of you? Did you want me to beg? Were you lonely in the tub with only your hand for company?” Oliver asked, fucking his thumb in and out of Felix’s mouth.
Felix moaned around it, grazing it with his teeth, hardening in his pants. Oliver was impressed at his refractory period, rubbing his own needy length against him, providing a light bit of friction for their clothes cocks.
“What were you imagining when you came? Were you imagining fucking me? Were you imagining me on my knees for you? Taking you?” Oliver asked, licking up his throat, biting softly at the skin, letting himself indulge in touch.
Felix bucked desperately against him, sucking greedily against his thumb, pulling Oliver tighter against him, eyes blazing.
“Or were you imagining me taking you? You spread out and open for me? Being so good as I took you apart, made a mess out of you?” Oliver asked, biting down on Felix’s earlobe, dragging the sensitive flesh between his teeth. Felix keened, pulling off his thumb with an obscene pop.
“Ollie,” he whined. “Fucking kiss me.”
Oliver wrapped his fingers in Felix’s damp hair, pulling him down into a hungry kiss, pouring every ounce of want and need into it. He bit and sucked at those perfect lips, tongue filthy and hot as he supped on his mouth. The sounds of their tongues and moans were obscene and loud in the bathroom, wet and glorious.
Oliver pulled away from Felix, tasting their combined saliva on his tongue, looking up at him with a wicked intent. “I want to taste you,” Oliver said. “I want to taste every inch of you. And once I am done with that, I want to come inside of you.”
Felix moaned, trying to kiss Oliver again, but Oliver held him just a centimeter apart, panting hot against his mouth. “And when I’ve done that, Felix,” he continued, “I’m going to feel you come on my tongue as I eat myself out of you.”
Felix captured Oliver’s mouth, tongue delving deep, practically eating Oliver’s face, chasing the hot words that dripped from Oliver’s lips. He made a delicious keening noise, pressing hot and eagerly against Oliver, rubbing himself against him like he hadn’t been touched in years.
“Not in here,” Oliver said, pushing Felix back through his open doorway, towards Felix’s bedroom. “I want you spread out and comfortable.”
Felix nodded into the kisses, pulling Oliver along with him as he blindly navigated his way to his bed, reluctant to let go, to put any space between their bodies. Oliver followed eagerly, hands mapping the skin he had been admiring all term long, skin he wanted to feel against him, under him. Skin that was now his to mark, to claim.
Felix’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he fell backwards, pulling Oliver on top of him as he tumbled down, pulling back so as to not bite through Oliver’s tongue. Oliver moved his impatient hands over Felix’s chest, mouth giving zealous attention to his neck, trying to tattoo the shape of his teeth on the too bare skin.
“I want to see you,” Felix moaned, writhing underneath him, fingers pressing into Oliver’s shoulders, legs opening to try and get their bodies back in alignment, to pursue the tease of friction.
Oliver smiled against Felix’s skin, biting down, making him whimper. “Ask me nicely.”
“Please, Ollie. Please,” Felix begged so good for him, eyes round and dark, body restless and longing for whatever touch Oliver was willing to bestow upon him.
“So good for me,” Oliver praised, sitting up, rocking down hard once, before stripping off his shirt, putting on a little bit of a show for Felix, letting him see his reward. Felix’s hand shot out to touch, to rake his nails over Oliver’s nipples, to wrap his fingers around Oliver’s chain, to trace the muscles Oliver had worked hard for, drinking in the sight. Oliver felt proud of the way Felix looked at him, feeling sexy and powerful under his quiet attention.
He then stood up, getting off of Felix, making Felix whine and try to pull him back down, eyes yearning.
“It’ll be easier this way,” Oliver explained, shucking his pajamas off, gesturing for Felix to do the same. Felix hurried to obey, almost kicking Oliver in his excitement. Then there he was, naked and hard for Ollie, a veritable feast for the eyes, all his to touch, to spoil with greedy touch, to mar with his filthy hands, to wreck and ruin.
Oliver sank to his knees, mouth going immediately to Felix’s perfectly shaped legs, mouth sucking possessive marks into his gorgeous thighs, worshiping at the canvas of skin made available to him. He lathed it with attention, scraping his teeth to bring the blood to the surface, soothing it with his tongue, sucking hard and wet, making Felix whine and moan. Felix’s hand sunk into his hair, pulling at the short strands, rude and controlling, but Oliver didn’t mind. Felix could pull hard enough to leave his scalp bloody and Oliver would still be here, kneeling before him, turning his sin into sweet sweet devotion with every suckling bite.
Felix made a frustrated noise, his hips humping into the empty air. “Oliver,” he whined.
“Yes, Felix?” Oliver replied, worrying the skin where his hip met his thigh between his teeth, the skin already bruising, blooming hot underneath his mouth, the contrast in color beautiful.
“Touch me,” Felix demanded, pulling harder at Oliver’s hair, trying to guide his mouth towards his cock, so pretty and hard.
“I am touching you,” Oliver replied, running his hands up and down the outsides of Felix’s thighs, nails biting into the flesh, mouth brushing against his skin.
“Ollie,” Felix whined again, huffing. “Please, Ollie. You said you wanted to taste me.”
Oliver smiled, tongue licking from Felix’s hip to his belly button, tracing it before blowing on it softly. “I am tasting you.”
Felix squeezed his eyes shut, noise stifled in the back of his throat. “Please. I need your mouth on me. On my cock. Please.”
Oliver bit the skin to the left of his belly button lightly, smiling at getting Felix to ask so nicely. “So polite, Felix,” he drawled, settling back down to his heels, taking in the sight of Felix’s leaking cock, shiny with precum, needy and wanting to be touched. He leaned forward and suckled at the head, tongue dipping into the slit, tasking the ambrosia direct from the source, Felix arching under the sudden touch, moaning loudly, trying to thrust deeper into the wet heat of Oliver’s mouth.
“Be good for me, Felix,” Oliver cooed, kissing his way down Felix’s cock, tasting the clean skin, smelling his expensive soap in the trimmed curls nestled at the base, tasting the growing musk.
Felix nodded, eyes opening, eagerly watching Oliver as he licked him from root to tip, watching Oliver work his skillful tongue where he needed him most, taking a delight in the clean, masculine taste of Felix.
Oliver didn’t try and keep things neat either, kisses wet and sloppy against him, tongue coating Felix’s cock in spit. Felix was dripping by the time Oliver sucked him down, feeling the stretch of Felix’s hot length along his lips, across the top of his tongue, his cock hitting the back of his throat. Oliver made it wet, drool easing the slide as he took Felix down, bobbing his head up and down the length, savoring the feeling of him inside of his body, taking him further and further in every time. He played with Felix’s balls with his other hand, rolling them, watching for Felix’s reactions as he fell into the meditative trance of sucking cock, gave his body over to base desire for taking Felix in over and over again, dragging broken noises of pleasure from his throat. Pleasing Felix, seeing Felix come undone, the hot feeling of him in his mouth made Oliver ache, made Oliver want. He wanted to hump like an animal against the floor, chasing the friction he had denied himself all night long, losing himself to obscene pleasure of being used. He gave into the submission of being the vessel for Felix’s growing pleasure, ignoring his own pounding need, the way he could feel himself drip, the way his skin tingled in absence of touch, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he fucked his throat open. He concentrated on the stretch of Felix between his lips, the musky smell of arousal and sweat in nose, the salty taste of him on his tongue, the filthy wet feeling of his face, the obscene noises filling the room. Felix tried to take control of the rhythm, tried to pull Oliver down harder, faster, tried to force his cock deeper into his throat, tried to make Oliver gag around him, but Oliver didn’t let him. This was only the aperitif and Felix was too impatient for his release, for the sweet reward of coming down Oliver’s greedy throat.
Oliver pulled off, rubbing his face against Felix’s hip, catching his breath, trying to reign in his control as he moved to the next stage, as he prepared himself to touch more of Felix, to maybe touch him where no one else had before. He couldn’t come untouched and eager from sucking his cock if he wanted to give Felix what he so desperately needed.
Felix groaned, petting Oliver’s head, watching him with rapt attention.
“Pull your legs back for me, love,” Oliver said, voice ruined by Felix’s cock. Felix hesitated for a moment, shame and embarrassment warring with the raw edge of need.
“It’ll be so good,” Oliver promised, sucking lightly at the head of Felix’s cock again, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his hip.
Felix nodded, releasing Oliver, scooting further back on his mattress. He brought both of his legs up on the bed, holding Oliver’s eyes before reaching down and grabbing his shin, pulling his knees to his chest.
Oliver crawled up on the bed, not immediately taking in the vulnerable sight of Felix spreading himself for him, the perfection of his pink hole, instead kissing the lovely boy, trying to chase the nerves away. He held himself over him, covered Felix from any of the outside expectations, shielded his body from the world, not letting him be exposed to anyone but Ollie. Felix let out a shaky breath, relaxing, letting Oliver touch him, one hand going to the back of his thigh, the other circling loosely around the base of his cock.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Oliver whispered. “I am in awe of your very existence.”
Felix huffed a laugh, more tension leaving him, leaning into Oliver’s light touches. “It’s like you haven’t seen yourself,” Felix replied, staring at Oliver like he was a light in the dark.
“No one can compete with you, Felix,” Oliver replied, kissing his way down Felix’s chest, teasing those rosy little nipples between his teeth, soothing the sting of his bites with his tongue, before going lower and lower, working his way towards his ultimate goal. Felix squirmed underneath him, still hard and eager and wanting.
Oliver kissed his way past Felix’s weeping erection and down further, dragging his tongue across his perineum, exploring the most secret and sacred places Felix had, being the first pilgrim to taste, to touch, to bring Felix such pleasure.
Felix made a strangled noise, unsure whether to chase the sensation or shy away. But Oliver didn’t stop, mouth going even lower, placing a wet opened mouth to the tight little furl of muscle, pink and untouched.
“Oliver!” Felix exclaimed, sounding scandalized.
“Let me,” Oliver panted darkly, licking at his rim, tongue pressing out in broad strokes against him, tasting him. He circled the tight furl with the tip of his tongue, stabbing lightly against it, tracing patterns across the sensitive nerve endings with, coaxing Felix to relax for him. Felix moaned, rocking his hips down into Oliver’s face, one hand slipping from his leg to touch Oliver’s head, leg coming to rest on Oliver’s broad shoulder. Oliver didn’t let it distract him, eagerly eating Felix out, getting him wet and stupid with his mouth, kissing his hole, licking it, worshiping it with every skill he possessed until Felix was putty in his hands, until he could work the tip of himself inside of the inexorable heat of Felix body. He fucked his tongue in and out, jaw aching, face absolutely dripping with saliva, uncaring of how wet and greedy he sounds, moaning against the tight clutch of Felix’s body, trying to get himself deeper.
Felix keened, riding Oliver’s face, trying to get more of the wet, hot sensation, trying to get Oliver to someone fuck his tongue in deeper. It was obscene and probably the most sacred thing Oliver has ever done.
He pulled back to admire his handiwork, thumbing at Felix’s hole, watching Felix try to take him in, try to chase the friction. Oliver pushed against him, letting just the tip of it slide in, eased by the spit, by the work he’s done, groaning at how greedily Felix takes him.
“Lube,” Oliver croaked out, working the tip of his thumb in and out of Felix, enraptured by the sight. “Where is your lube?”
Felix’s arm shot out, slapping against the bed, his hand reaching towards his pillows, eventually knocking one off the bed, grabbing the tube he had there, tossing it to Oliver, it thunking harmless off his shoulder.
Oliver met Felix’s eyes with a cheeky grin, pulling his thumb away, reaching for the lube. “Expecting something?”
Felix groaned, biting down hard on his poor abused lower lip, watching Oliver slick up his fingers. “I like things wet,” he admitted, tracking every slight movement Oliver made, looking like he wanted to consume him.
Oliver smirked, bringing his index finger down to trace Felix’s hole, to tease Felix with the sensation. “You’ll be dripping by the time I’m done with you.”
He thrusted his finger in, working it into the silken heat of Felix’s body, moving it in and out slowly, getting Felix using the feeling, the stretch of having Oliver inside. Oliver tried not to lose it at the hot clutch of Felix around his finger, at what that sensation promised for his cock. It had already been blistering good on his tongue, around his thumb. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to bury himself balls deep into Felix, to feel him hot and alive and so tight around his bare skin, to make love to him, to claim him.
Felix tried to move with Oliver, to relax into the foreign feeling. Oliver brought his mouth back to Felix’s cock, sucking at the skin lightly, tracing his tongue along the vein at the bottom, tempering the unfamiliar feeling of penetration with the bright curl of pleasure, letting Felix associate the feeling of Oliver inside of him with the hot wet feeling of his mouth.
“Another,” Felix demanded, minutes later, emphasizing his point with a thrust back against Oliver’s hand, clenching down onto his finger. “Please.”
Oliver pulled his fingers out, slicking two of them up before pushing them back in, feeling the resistance give easily, to the first knuckle, relaxed and oh so needy. Felix hummed at the feeling, trying to find a better angle, trying to work Oliver a bit deeper. Oliver began to push deeper, working his fingers in at an unhurried pace, letting Felix feel every centimeter of the slide, let him feel the way he was opening so easily for Oliver.
“You’re doing so good,” Oliver said, watching his fingers disappear and reappear, wanting to chase them with his tongue, wanting to fuck them in harder, wanting to make Felix fucking scream. He crooked his fingers, looking for the spot that would drive Felix wild.
He found it easily, petting it, making Felix’s back bow, nearly throwing Oliver off him as he moaned, fucking himself back against the pressure.
“So good,” Oliver purred, pleased with himself, at making Felix lose control.
“More,” Felix panted, trying to chase the sensation, trying to get Oliver to touch that spot again, make his body sing with pleasure.
Oliver obliged, rubbing the spot, Felix mewling, jerking on Oliver’s hand.
“In me,” Felix demanded, kicking at Oliver, voice desperate, eyes bright and wild. “Fucking get in me.”
Oliver pulled his fingers out, taking his already wet hand and slicking himself up with lube wanting to be thorough, trying to not grab himself too hard, worried about how close he already was from just servicing Felix, from tasting him, seeing him. He lined himself up, pushing Felix’s leg back, opening him up. He knew it would be easier to take Felix on his hands and knees, that Felix would adjust better, feel less pain. But he needed to see Felix’s face, he needed to watch him come. He wanted Felix to really feel it, to know it was Oliver who was taking it, Oliver who was claiming him with his cock. He wanted Felix to be unable to ignore it, unable to hide from the fact it was Oliver who could fuck him this good, take him apart.
Oliver rubbed his sensitive head against Felix’s hole, circling it, wetting it with his precum, before pushing in. Oliver kept his eyes glued to Felix’s face, sure he would come if he saw his own cock slide into Felix’s body. He needed to make this good, make this perfect. He needed to show Felix what he would never be able to live without again.
Felix’s mouth fell open as Oliver breached him, parted against the pressure of Oliver’s length, opening warm and wet and inviting around him. Oliver felt his arms tremble as he slowly fed his cock inside of Felix, as he felt every centimeter slide in deeper and deeper, as he joined Felix in the most holy of unions. He knew he had to feel big, overwhelming to Felix, could see it in his face as he panted underneath Oliver, but Felix was good for him, body so eagerly and willing to be praised by Oliver’s love, to be made new by Oliver’s devotion, to reach new exalted peaks together, taking him in like he always belonged there.
Oliver bottomed out and held himself there, letting Felix adjust, relax against the intrusion. Felix gripped at Oliver’s arm, fingers leaving marks behind, eyes searching Oliver’s face for something.
Oliver stared down at the mean beneath him, naked, exposed, and felt his spirit move, felt the waves of his desire and longing drown him, pull him under, lost to tight clutch of his body, the way he could feel Felix’s heartbeat around his cock, feel him breathe underneath him, the liquid shine of his eyes.
“I love you,” Oliver confessed. “God, Felix, I love you so fucking much.”
Felix smiled incandescently, positively resplendent at the words. “Oh Oliver,” he said, voice thick with emotion, tears shining in his eyes. “I love you too. Fuck. So much, Ollie. So much.”
Oliver leaned down, sliding deeper, but he needed to kiss him, to feel those words bless his lips. Felix moaned into the kiss, clenching around Oliver, causing him to shudder.
“Now move,” Felix said, squeezing Oliver’s arm reassuringly. “So me how much you love me.”
Oliver pulled his hips back a fraction and thrust back in, feeling the drag of Felix’s walls around him. He kept his eyes on Felix, searching for any sign of pain, any sign of discomfort as he moved back and forth shallowly, the hot stretch around him already threatening to undo him, Felix feeling too good for his mere mortal flesh.
Felix’s eyes fluttered shut, head tipping back, a small sigh spilling from his lips. Oliver increased his pace, working his thrusts a bit faster, pulling out a bit farther, thrusting back in a bit harder, feeling Felix squeeze around him, so tight, so wet, so perfect.
Oliver began to fuck him in earnest, Felix whimpering underneath him, his every moment a prayer to his lover, his hips snapping in and out of him, searching out Felix’s prostate, wanting to feel Felix spasm around his cock, wanting to feel those perfect walls grasp him tight. Oliver bit back a growl, adjusting Felix around him, trying to find the spot that would make Felix, bring Felix to a new ecstasy.
Felix writhed back against him, chasing the friction of Oliver’s strong thrusts, grunts spilling out of him every time Oliver’s balls slapped against his ass, with every wet joining of their bodies. Felix sought for some leverage to take Oliver deeper, harder, but Oliver was in control of it, finally grazing Felix’s prostate, making him twitch around his cock, a desperate noise spilling from his lips, Oliver drank it down with his covetous mouth, working his hips in faster, chasing the greedy spill of sounds, the hot clench of his body around him.
“Feels so good,” Oliver moaned. “You feel so good around me, Felix.”
Felix bit at his lip, tried to kiss him, but was too lust drunk to more than lick at his mouth, satisfied noises spilling from his lips.
“Touch yourself for me,” Oliver commanded, feeling his orgasm approaching, bright and hot in his stomach, curling in his pelvis, hot and demanding.
Felix let go of Oliver’s arm and slid his hand between their sweaty chests, taking himself in hand, working his cock over frantically, stripping it out of time of Oliver powerful thrusts, too lost to his pleasure to manage the task.
“Are you going to cum for me?” Oliver asked, licking up the side of Felix’s face, tasting his flush, the salt of his sweat. “Are you going to be good and let me see you cum around my cock?”
Felix whined, hand moving faster, a sloppy beat out of time with the slap of their hips, needy and aching. It was more beautiful than any hymn, deserving to be replayed often, a celebration of praise, of their desire, an ode to ecstasy.
“Cum for me,” Oliver growled possessively, Felix feeling so good around him he can barely stand it, hanging on by a thread.
Oliver could feel the moment it happened, the moment Felix tipped over the edge. His hand sped up, body grew tight, spine arching off the bed, head tipped back in a silent scream, displaying his beautiful throat, marked by Oliver’s teeth. Hot spurts of cum came from his cock, making a mess of them both, painting their chests in splashes and drops. The clench of his body was so impossibly good, so tight and hot, spasming around him Oliver couldn’t help but follow him over, fucking his release into Felix, getting him wet and full with his cum, a claim Felix could never undo.
Felix squirmed as he felt it, whining, milking every second of it, hips fucking back on Oliver’s trembling cock with an impassioned fervor.
Oliver pulled out, still shaking from his orgasm, still half-hard, and put his mouth to Felix’s chest, licking the hot cum wet and thick into his mouth. He got himself filthy with it, sucking it into his mouth, rubbing his face in it, tasting it fresh and warm and Felix. He worked his way down Felix’s trembling torso, Felix making helpless little noises, lost in the stimulation of Oliver’s wet tongue, of being licked clean so close after his second orgasm of the night. Oliver took Felix’s softening cock into his mouth, cleaning it, chasing every last drop of Felix.
“Oliver,” Felix whined, squirming at the overstimulation.
“I’m not done with you yet.” Oliver felt high. Oliver felt crazy. He nuzzled Felix’s balls, sucking them into his mouth before placing sloppy kisses down his perineum, eyes falling to Felix’s used hole.
A wounded noise fell from Oliver’s throat as he thumbed it open, pink and swollen, watching his own cum drip out. He could feel Felix try and close his legs, embarrassed at the scrutiny, at the heat and hungry of Oliver’s gaze, at the vulnerability. Oliver didn’t care.
He pushed his cum back inside, darting out to chase the hot flavor of Felix on his lips, panting heavily, cock twitching valiantly against his thigh. Oliver leaned forward and sealed Felix’s hole with a kiss, open mouthed and hungry. He chased the bitter, salty musk of his release inside of Felix’s body, tongue relentless as he ate him out, working him hot and sloppy. He funneled it out, lapping at his own cum in hot mouthfuls, sucking on Felix’s stretched rim, Felix’s legs kicking helplessly as he moaned, overstimulated and overwrought with pleasure. Oliver fucked his tongue in with the same diligence as his fingers, his cock, the wet slide of it absolutely obscene. He could feel how wet his face was getting, his spit, their cum, lube. He didn’t care, moaning helplessly as he sucked Felix like a man possessed. Felix’s hands shot back down to Oliver’s head, finally regaining control of his body, pushing Oliver’s face deeper into his ass, fucking against the sinful pleasure. Oliver could feel Felix clench around him, feel him try and take him deeper, rutting helplessly as Oliver sucks him clean, consuming their cum until all he can taste was them.
“Ollie,” Felix panted, tone pleading. “Please.”
Oliver pulled away, tracing the puffy rim with his tongue, causing Felix to shudder. “I promised you were going to come again.”
“I can’t. I can’t. Ollie, please.”
Oliver hummed consideringly, taking in Felix’s soft cock, shiny with spit, the flush that had made it all the way down his chest, the desperate gleam in his eyes.
“But you taste so good,” Oliver replied, licking against his hole, teasing Felix.
“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t.”
Oliver acknowledged how despite their ages it would probably be difficult for Felix to get hard again so quickly, to cum three times in such a short span of time. But he was nothing if not diligent.
“I think you can,” Oliver replied. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he offered, spreading Felix even wider before him, spitting on his hole.
Felix froze for a moment before going boneless, a wanton noise spilling from his lips, shaking his head. “Don’t stop.”
Well how could he deny Felix anything, dipping back down to get to work. Oliver didn’t know how long he was there, kissing and sucking at Felix’s hole. It was well past the point his cum was gone, well past the point Oliver’s jaw got sore, lips aching, tongue straining. But he wanted it, he needed it. Felix was so good for him, so responsive as Oliver used his mouth to bring him to hardness a third time, Felix crying with pleasure, a mess on his bed. His hole was red and had to be aching, his cock sensitive, but Oliver knew how much Felix deserved it. Deserved to lose himself to the mind numbing pleasure.
He brought Felix over the edge again, two fingers in his ass, rubbing against his prostate, thrusting in and out of his spit slick channel, stretched loose by his cock, mouth wrapped around his cock, drinking down his pitifully small release.
Felix collapsed as soon as he was done coming, panting like he had run a marathon. Oliver kissed his way up his body, admiring the marks he left behind.
“Ollie,” Felix said weakly, patting at Oliver, trying to draw him against him.
“I’m right here, Felix,” Oliver said, placing a kiss to Felix’s mouth, nuzzling against him.
“Don’t leave me,” Felix said, snuggling into him, wrapping his long limbs around him, heavy with pleasure and sleepiness.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Oliver promised, kissing Felix’s nose. “Now let’s get you under the covers.”
Oliver helped move Felix, manipulating him until they were both under the sheets, shoving the ruined duvet to the floor. They were both positively filthy, but bating could wait for tomorrow. Felix was exhausted and Oliver was not much better.
“Love you,” Felix hummed sleepily, spooning against Oliver, sighing deeply.
Oliver smiled, letting himself relax into the heat of Felix’s body, giving into the pull of sleep. “Love you too.”