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Michael is in control of the whole situation from the very start. Guy’s obviously been waiting for the invitation to take the next step in their relationship, but he’s been good about holding out for Michael’s terms, so eager to please in his own puppy dog sort of way, if that puppy dog was a overconfident mutt with no sense of manners or personal space.
Anyways. It’s kind of endearing that he’s willing to wait nicely. So when Michael gives him the green light, Guy yields to him. He’s the one capturing Guy’s mouth in a fierce kiss, driving him back towards his bedroom, taking the steady lead as Guy humps on him like he’s trying to fuck him through layers of fabric.
But eventually they get to the clothes-coming-off part, and shit switches up. Guy unbuckles his belt and drops his pants, and Michael has an actual oh shit, that’s big moment. It’s not like he couldn’t feel it through the fabric when they were touching on each other, but seeing it is another thing entirely. Somehow, that huge cock is gonna have to fit inside him. Frankly, Michael’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to take it.
But he’s also never balked at a challenge, and he refuses to break that streak. Still…
“Is that thing gonna fit?” He blurts out before he can stop himself. He immediately regrets it, because Guy has this smug look on his stupid face.
“Sweetheart,” He purrs, all sweet, tapping two fingers between Michael’s bare thighs like it’s the secret code for entry, “Don’t worry that big brain of yours. We’ll make it fit.”
Michael kind of hates that he’s sexually attracted to this man. That being said, he’s also curious about the exact mechanics of this whole endeavor. Guy seems extremely sure of himself, after all - and if he does manage to get that fat cock in all the way, it’ll feel unbelievably good. Fuck it. Might as well let him try.
He settles himself back against the pillows, allows Guy to push his toned thighs apart and really get at him. Guy takes the invitation for what it is and gets down to business immediately - he slicks up his fingers and pushes two inside. Fuck, even his fingers are bigger than Michael’s own, and the persistent stretch of them is just on the right side of too much. He curls them up, bending them at the first knuckle in order to brush across Michael’s prostate in teasing, broad strokes that only serve to make him squirm for more.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Guy asks. He grins, that gold tooth glinting in the light from the bedside lamp, and Michael has to pull him down and kiss him hard for that.
Michael lets him go after a few heart-racing kisses, glaring up at him in a way he knows is entirely ineffective. His lipstick is now smeared all over Guy’s cheek. For once, he doesn’t have something smart to say; Guy’s got him beat. The motions of his fingers are dizzying, sending pleasure shooting up Michael’s spine in spirals. He wants more- wants Guy to go on and push his limits, to participate fully in this impromptu experiment of theirs.
Guy gets the memo pretty quick, scissors his fingers just once more before slipping them free and moving to grab a condom from the nightstand. He rolls it down over himself as quick as possible, pinching the tip, and immediately proceeds to dribble lube over the head of his cock. He’s genereous with the application, and fists his cock a few times to get it spread down his shaft.
“Go slow,” Michael warns him. He presses cautiously at Guy’s chest, keeping him still for the moment. He knows he’s inflating Guy’s ego here, but he’s too hot and bothered to care. “It’s been a while for me.”
To his credit, Guy does indeed go slow to start - achingly slow. He splits Michael open inch by inch, barely moving at all. It gives Michael a chance to adjust as best he can, but even with the glacial pace, he’s still overwhelmed.
It’s all just so much: the heat, the weight, the solid, slow slide of Guy’s thrusts. It feels as if he’s all the way up in Michael’s abdomen, fat cockhead pushing up into his stomach, making space for Guy to fuck his lights out. Michael has to remind himself to keep breathing steadily, to relax around the welcome intrusion, to not push himself too far too fast. He wasn’t lying when he said it’d been a while - it really has, and Guy’s certainly not an easy lay.
“Holy shit, sugar. You’re so tight-” Guy is gasping, sweat beading on his brow as he fights to keep his hips still. “I’m halfway in. Think you can take more of me?”
Michael huffs out a confirmation, still focused on keeping his inhales on time. His nerves are raw, buzzing like a downed power line, tension shooting down his spine when Guy resumes pushing in. His back straightens, abs tightening involuntarily, fingernails digging deep red crescents into Guy’s shoulderblades. He’s grateful that Guy doesn’t have a free hand to jack him off, because with how overstimulated he is, it’d only take a few barely-there touches for him to shoot off right now.
Finally, he feels Guy’s hips press flush against his ass, fully seated inside him, and he forces his muscles to go limp. Guy doesn’t start to move, just stays buried in him all the way, holding himself above Michael on trembling arms.
“You’re like a dream come true, T,” he says, looking somewhere between dazed and self-satisfied, “So fucking pretty underneath me, letting me in so beautifully.” Michael feels his cock throb, and he tightens up unconsciously. “It’s like your body is trying to keep me inside you, hm? You want this bad, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” Michael says softly, a secret he wants to keep. The stretch is getting easier by the second, his body figuring itself out, remembering this sensation as something good. Now, he doesn’t want Guy to stay put. He wants him to get moving.
Michael grips onto Guy tighter, shoving his hips back in suggestion. “You can start moving.”
Thankfully, Guy takes his word and gets down to work properly, pushing Michael’s thighs back and slipping his calves over his broad shoulders as he fucks him. The steady build is ridiculously good, and Michael chews on his bottom lip to keep from getting too loud too soon.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Guy pushes his palm against the lowest part of Michael’s belly, just below his hipbones, like he’s searching for something in particular. He thrusts deep a few times, a strange look on his face, before he gasps sharply, as if he’s just witnessed a miracle.
“Fuck, babe, feel this,” he grabs for Michael’s hand, guides it right back to where his was originally. “Hold on, just-”
Michael, equal parts suspicious and intrigued, flattens the heel of his palm where Guy instructs him to, then Guy fucks into him with fervor, and-
“That’s you,” He moans suddenly, toes curling in delirious pleasure, in filthy delight at the sheer obscenity of it all. He can literally feel the bulge of Guy’s cock pistoning in and out of his body, every forward motion creating this answering solid pressure against his hand. “I can feel you moving in me. That’s…”
Guy nods sharply, gritting his teeth, brow furrowing as he picks up the pace. He’s feverish at the discovery, placing his hand over Michael’s as if he can’t believe what he’s feeling. “Can’t believe you thought you’d have trouble taking this dick, gorgeous,” he says, voice a breathy rumble. “You’re a fuckin’ champ.”
And well. Even if it’s coming from Guy, Michael does appreciate being appreciated, especially in the bedroom. Especially by someone bigger than him with a big dick and the knowledge on how exactly to use it. If Guy wants to keep on sweet talking him, Michael isn’t going to protest it.
He smiles to himself, shuddering when Guy adjusts the angle and shoves in impossibly deeper, thinking that maybe - just maybe - he’ll let Guy do this again soon. After he’s able to sit down again, of course.