Chapter Text
Istvan looked at the little horse figure bobbing around. The spring was old and rusty emitting a screeching sound with every movement. Sweat build at the back of his neck even though it was January. Droplets ran down his spine into his tailored shirt, adding to the wet patch at his lower back. The heater buzzed in the stuffy room. Istvan shifted in his seat.
“Mister Toth, I am deeply sorry. There is indeed a mismatch. A small one, I might add. I’m surprised that you even found it, sir.”
Istvan’s eyes traveled from the figure to Balazs, the storeowner. The man seemed smaller than usual, sitting admits his unkept office. Stacks of records and documents surrounded him like the bars of a cell.
“I’m surprised that you can think in this heat. A little air would do you some good.”
Balazs laughed awkwardly while the sweat ran down his temples. He started rambling about the broken heater. Istvan’s patience was thinning. He didn’t make personal visits anymore, had plenty people for that now but today he sought after something out of the ordinary. Big mistake. He couldn’t concentrate with Balazs’ never ending talking. The vain underneath his eye twitched.
The line rang. Balazs winced.
“It’s from the shop. Milan never calls if it isn’t important.” He apologetically snickered. Istvan just nodded to the telephone. The storeowner picked up and had a short conversation with his lackey.
“I’ve seen her around the block a couple of times. Maybe we should call the police. Wait a minute I’ll come down.”
Fraternizing now?
After he hung up Balazs scratched his head.
“Apparently we have a thief in the house. A kid stole something.”
Plenty to steal in this dump.
”A shoplifter? Rather unusual for this area.”
”Certainly, sir. Old town would have been a better spot.”
”It’s off season. That must be it.”
”Still very far out.”
“Let’s have a look then.” Istvan stood and got his wool coat. Anything was better than this hellish box of a room.
“Are you certain it won’t be a problem, sir? I would be deeply upset if I held you up longer than necessary.”
Istvan’s eyes crawled from the hand clutching at his coat up to Balazs. Jaw muscles tightened. As if burned the storeowner jerked his hand away.
“I insist. I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to Milan yet.”
The heel of Istvan’s shoes sharply echoed through the staircase with the same furiosity his loafers gleamed. He blended out Balazs’ idle chitchat while they decended downwards.
They entered the small shop. A few aisle of groceries and other useless junk. White dirty tiles functioned as the floor. One would surly find mould on the walls by closer inspection so Istvan tried to avoid the corners. Hurled against the wall of the shop was cheap plastic table with two equally cheap chairs. Milan obscured the view with his impossible big stature. He stepped back when he saw Istvan approached with his boss in tow. His face was too soft for a man in his profession, black hair covered most of his eyes. A kid sat by the table. Head sunken down. Cap obscuring his face. Wild strands of blonde hair sticking out. They lifted their head. Istvan’s step faltered. Baffled he stared at the kid. Hair was cut short but the rest..
“You.” Disbelief and agitation was thrown at the older man.
The boy jumped up, chair flew back with a bang. He was maybe a few heads smaller than Istvan.
“Sit down.” He didn’t yell that was sorely needed. The boy didn’t obey but he didn’t ran either. Without leaving him out of his eyes Istvan said, “Milan, would you get the door, please. We are closed for today.”
Without hesitation the colossus of a man complied with the order. The door was looked and curtains drawn, sign turned from open to closed. The blonde kid watched all this, eyes getting bigger by the second. They dart around the room between the three men like a cornered animal. His eyes were red. Bruises old and new spread over his cheek.
“Balazs, a coffee for me and- what do you want?”
The kid stayed silent. Istvan waited a bit and continued, “and water for the boy.”
Balazs equally confused stumbled to his office.
Istvan opened his suit jacket and took a seat. Under his gaze the boy started to squirm and writhe unable to hold still. His trembling hands formed to fists. He scrunched his eyes shut.
“I didn’t tell the police anything.”
“I know.” It came out soft, encouraging. The kid wore ragged pants his jacket was torn open, the stuffing peaked out. Istvan couldn’t see his shoes but he guessed they were in similar condition. He saw the sunken cheeks. Bone sticking out. The hunger in his eyes was familiar to Istvan like an old friend, who had tired to drown you when you were kids.
The boy awkwardly picked up the chair from the floor and sat down. Istvan blinked and Balazs came back with the coffee. The storeowner shifted skittish around.
“I’ll deal with it. The thing we talked about needs fixing.” Istvan waved him away and glared daggers into Balazs’ back as he went upstairs.
Incompetent piece of shit.
“What’s your name, again?” He turned to the boy. The kid frowned and said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world,
“Erik.”
“I would like to know what you are doing here and where your mother is, Erik.”
He kneaded his hands, picked at the skin.
“Erik, that’s a good name. Your parents chose-”
“I chose it.”
Istvan smiled.
“Yes? Do you know what it means?”
He shook his head.
“It comes from old Norse meaning sole ruler or ever powerful. Scandinavian kings wore that name and now it’s yours.”
Erik beamed. He tried to hide it and failed miserably.
“What did you steal, Erik?”
The boy chewed on his lips and pointed at the counter. Istvan turned, a package of chocolate sweet rolls. The older man huffed out a laugh. “They wanted to rat you out to the cops for 3,50.”
Istvan took his wallet out of the inside of his jacket and pulled out a 50 euro bill. He looked over to Milan and placed it on the table, “For your troubles.”
“How old are you now?”, he asked the boy.
“13.”
Around the same age. Istvan felt the dust settle on the roof of his mouth. It stung his eyes. Bit into his nostrils.
He almost coughed. Like tar the memory stuck to him Istvan struggled to push it down. Helplessly, he looked up from his cup. Big brown eyes stared at him, waiting. The boy. He cleared his throat.
“What do we do with you, mh? This is no place for a child.” He checked his watch.
No good deed goes unpunished or so the saying goes.
Istvan stood up, closed his coat and walked to the door where Milan stood watch, giving them some privacy. At least one person knew how to do his job around here.
“It was a pleasure seeing you again, Milan. And tell your boss if it happens again, he won’t have to worry about a new heater.”, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He turned to leave but something was missing.
Istvan looked back to the table where Erik sat all lost.
“What are you doing, boy? Come here.”
8. YEARS LATER
Erik rolled the cord back up and put it neatly into his pocket. Pulse was hammering away. He pulled tarp out of his backpack, spread it out on the floor. Checked his phone for messages. “Not again.” He mumbled and called the number back. The voice on the other side of the line cracked in his earpiece.
“Hi, in the middle of it.”
“Cleaning up.”
“I know. I’m trying to make it on time. If you wouldn’t-”
Erik grunted under the strenuous movement. The plastic rustled when he zipped it close. He pulled his cap deep into his face.
“You know what we need more?”
Erik peeked out into the empty parking loot. He opened the door of the vehicle.
“A vacation. How about one month in Zadar? Last time we went was great.”
The black plastic bag was dragged over the concrete floor and pulled into the van. He fastened the strapping belt and hopped out.
“An actual vacation not another fucking business trip. Actual relaxation.”
He walked around the car and got in. Little later the motor droned to life.
“Yeah and we planned that for months now. For one evening.”
The car started moving.
“I am working. I’m discussing future plans with my boss. For the good of company.”
Erik glanced back into the trunk, eyes wandered to the lifeless body on the floor.
“Well, he won’t run away anymore. I’m on my way.”
“Fresh meat for the dogs.”, Istvan said.
The younger man grinned, white teeth peering out underneath the cap.
Erik stepped into the apartment. Expensive rug greeted his feet after he took his shoes off.
“Erik?”
The younger man followed the call through the hallway past the paintings in golden and wooden frames. Most of them covered 14th and 15th centuries in Europe.
“Who else?”
The paintings ranged from idyllic scenes of forests and huts to sieges, battles, villages aflame. Fire sprayed up, eating the straw roofs. Sometimes Erik could almost hear the wood crack and break just before the beam gave in.
“You’re late.” Voice was coming closer.
Istvan stood in the walk in wardrobe, filled with suit jackets and trousers, dress shirts, silk socks, garters, shirt studs. All in various colours and different fabrics. Usually everything was neatly sorted but now the drawers hung open and the floor was littered with clothes. The older man was currently contemplating over his watch collection and he ultimately picked the Manhattan 1982 with the gold dial. Erik carefully stepped through the mess and stuffed his worn t-shirt into the laundry basket.
“Some new guy managed to cramp the chainsaw. Had to buy a new one.”
“Found nobody else for that?”
“You know, those fuckers are allergic to work.”
They shared a quick kiss before Erik jumped under the shower for a quick rinse. Afterwards he bend over the sink and stretched his chin into the mirror. Istvan was already with him and checked for stubbles.
“It’s fine. Clothes are on the bed.”
His hand came to rest in the middle of Erik’s chest, two horizontal scars spanned above his pecks around, a few inches into his back. Old scars which were long healed. He should wear them as a token of his resilience at least that’s what Istvan used to say. Erik bend down to capture his lips. Grew too hungry too quickly. The other nudged him backwards.
“Save that for later.”
Erik pouted but relented. He walked to his clothes Istvan’s appreciative gaze lingered on his broad shoulders and naked rear. The buttons of the plain white shirt were already done but the first four. Erik pulled it over his head and turned away when Istvan tried to help him. Stubbornly did it himself. His grey suit trousers with red, vertical lines were next. The rather casual look was everything Istvan could get him into not that the older man hadn’t tried for more. Istvan for himself had chosen a dark blue suit with a black vest that was ornate with golden filigree. His tie was similarly extravagant.
On the way out Istvan eyed the dress shoes which Erik expertly ignored and went for his leather boots with no laces.
Deep in the heart of the city, alleys morph into a labyrinth, their destination lays. Even here tourists wander aimlessly. Blind cattle, they don't know what to look for. Where streets meet, at the corner, unimposing, merging effortlessly with the surroundings, letters form the name of the restaurant. "To Zatracené Jméno".
Erik held the entrance door open. Istvan's heels hit the stone stairs and shortly after the sound was softened by a handwoven rug. The foyer was small decorated with porcelain plates depicting flowers, fruits and sometimes people. At the sturdy reception table Erik said their reservation. A hand crept from his lower back up to his shoulder blades and sank down again. Erik glanced down. The older man didn’t look him though his mischievous smile was very telling. As they were shown their table Istvan’s glove trailed up the inside of Erik’s arm. He lifted it and the thump drew circles on his exposed skin.
They were led to the second floor and seated by the railing. The room, which hung as a balcony over the first floor, was full of low hanging light that sparsely illuminated the tables. Private, subtle. No wonder Istvan had chosen it. Erik squirmed on his seat. He felt the anticipation gargle in his stomach.
“What do you want to eat?” Istvan smiled while studying the menu. He hadn’t missed his boy’s nervousness. Erik swallowed and opened the menu. The letters danced in front of his eyes. Head was empty. He frowned.
“How about the roasted boar with.. the beetroot and fermented mushrooms?”
“Mh, that pairs good with red wine.”
Istvan flipped further back.
“Look at that. They have a Chianti Riserva from 2011.”
A well dressed waiter. Hair neatly combed, the gel sparkled where light hit it.
“A wonderful choice for the wine, sir. It is in fact one of the last ones we have for that year.”
“Oh?”, Istvan and the waiter continued talking. Erik mentally checked out by “wonderful choice”. Instead he had a look at the other guests. It wasn’t empty but also not full just the right amount of people to have a quiet atmosphere. Piano music poured from the speakers scattered around the room. The booths were along the walls of the restaurant. Erik peeked down from the railing. The first floor was more crowed. Round tables were centered in the middle of the room. Like moths people had gathered to sit under the light. Glasses clinked, laughter and vivid conservation echoed gently up. Erik mustered the guests, who had all dressed up for this evening. One of them, felt somebody looking, turned. Before their eyes could met Erik backed up and fell back into his seat. His face swung to Istvan.
“You seem a bit on edge of late.”
Erik shrugged.
“I wanted to ask if you would like to have things taken off your plate?”
“I don’t need to be coddled.”, he shot back.
A shoe dropped quietly to the floor.
“It’s not about coddling, it’s about caring.” Istvan leaned back in his seat. He propped his chin up on his palm, was watching the other through half-lidded eyes.
Erik felt something touch his leg.
“Care, you say?”, pressure grazed up and down over his shin, “Big words from somebody who keeps ignoring me.”
“I’d like to remind you that we both have been occupied with work.”, Istvan nudged him under the table, beckoning, before he withdrew his foot. The older man had this challenging look on his face that send goosebumps over Erik’s neck. Eyes promised him pleasure while slightly upturned lips were telling him a different story. Erik stretched his leg, boot and loafer clacked together.
“If someone wouldn’t keep taking contracts from-.”
”I can’t simply say ‘No’ to him.”
Istvan’s foot slid over his boot. Caught the fabric of his trousers pushed it up. Soft silk socks rubbed against his skin, prickly sensation crawled upwards.
“You know that.”
Istvan pulled back just to instead of under move over the fabric. Traveling up to his shin to the inner knee to his thighs. Slowly crawled closer to his groin.
“Surely, you didn’t had to take all of them.”, Erik skid forward on his chair and cursed when the pressure was finally where he needed it the most. “We didn’t even had time to-”
Toes rubbed over the curve of his mound. The sensitive tissue hardened. In moments like this Erik was quite thankful that nobody could see his hard-on through his pants. He clenched his abdomen and inner thighs. Walls constricted.
“To what?” Pressure moved unrelenting over his groin, pleasure flared every time Istvan rubbed over his straining cock.
The younger man shook his head.
“No?” Teasing smirk.
“Move your chair closer my leg’s getting tired.”
Erik thought about it. They needed to stop anyways when the waiter arrived. Istvan raised his brows and shortly after dropped his leg. The pressure left, leaving his groin pulsing, wanting more. This was fucking worse. The chair scrapped over the floor.
“Good boy.”
Erik felt a familiar warmth settle in his chest. It spread to his ears, traveled south, added to his damning need. The foot slid between his legs and started to move again. Erik swallowed, he prodded at the knife on the table, making it align neatly with the rest of the cutlery. Anything to get his mind off of the burning-
“Answer my first question properly this time.”
Through the fog obscuring his mind the boy found it difficult to decipher the words. He reeled back the conversation.
“If you had somebody more competent, you would have done so already. So, no, I don't need things taken off my plate.”
“But you do mind?”
“I’m not going to pretend I like it, but whatever needs to be done, I’ll do.”
“My, so diligent.”
“Calls for a reward, don’t you agree?” The foot came to rest against his groin.
Erik reached between his legs. Fingers formed around Istvan’s heel. The younger man humped against the silk socks, hips subtly rolling. Though his movement quickly had a desperate tinge to it. He closed his eyes, concentrated on the coiling in his stomach, clenched free his hand to a fist. Dazed he looked between his legs. Lips parted as his jaw relaxed. His gaze wandered over the table.
“Are you close, my love?”
Erik blew out air, rubbed over his burning cheeks.
“Now you’re really playing dirty.”
It coiled in his stomach just before release.
“Erik?”
“What.”
“The food should be here.”
”Any moment now-”
Heavy footsteps made the stairs creak. Istvan pulled his leg back and the other man slumped back in the chair.
The older man sat up straight again and Erik was torn between relief and exasperation. Hole clenched around nothing.
Istvan blinked innocently at the two waiters, who had brought the roasted boar and the wine. While the waiter opened and poured a mouthful of wine in a glass, Istvan pried off his tight fitting gloves. Erik, who was still slumped back, tugged on his shirt tried to cool down his burning body. Face steadily took on a normal shade. One waiter turned to the younger man and asked him if he too wanted to test the wine.
“Oh, please. That’s his thing.”
Istvan, eyes hefted on his hands, said, “You ungrateful wretch, in a few years you will appreciate a good wine.”
“What will you appreciate in a few years? The snug interior of your coffin?”
Istvan bursted into laughter, it came deep from his belly. The boy sometimes came up of nowhere with these.
“I should have never told you about that white hair.”
Erik was gently shaking with his own giggling. Still laughing he straightened himself up and placed the napkin in his lap. The older man laid his gloves on the table and sipped on the wine.
“Very good. We‘ll take it.”
Istvan peered to the waiter who seemed rather unimpressed by their antics. The boar was good, knife cut through it like butter and in the same manner it devolved on the palate. Istvan put down his cutlery and took a few sips from the wine. Erik was wolfing down his meal like there was no tomorrow. He also had the aversion to mix his meals with his drinks. Which rendered the wine useless. Erik looked up and took the wineglass to his lips.
“Spare me the lecture.”
“I wasn’t even going to say anything.”
Erik scoffed.
“More wine for me.”
”A tragedy.”
In the end Erik ate Istvan’s leftover beetroot, while the other man drank the rest of the wine. After paying he asked, “Bar?”
Erik remembered the shelves of brown and golden liquor when they walked in, near the entrance. Normally, the young man would be first to suggest heading home but today he felt masochistic enough to continue his torment. Istvan, grinning, didn’t need to be told twice.
They walked to the well stacked bar. Istvan ordered. Whisky for him and per request a mojito for Erik.
“Feeling adventurous today?”
Erik played with the locks at the nape of Istvan’s neck.
“To sweeten up the loss of my reward.”
Blunt fingernails scratched over his scalp. Istvan leaned into to it slightly his heady gaze drilled into the man next to him.
They searched for an empty spot and found a free booth. Clearly meant for couples looking for a private moment. After siting down Erik placed Istvan’s leg in lap. His hand slid along the other’s inner thigh.
“And what are your intentions after dragging me into this dark corner?”
“I thought you would appreciate some privacy.”
“To do what?”
The older man bend forward. Held the boy by his chin. Teasingly slow pulled him close just to stop just before their lips could touch. Their breath mix, hot air fell against Istvan’s mouth. He shifted nose bumping against the other. He formed his lips to a kiss, feigning he pulled back. His grip hardened when Erik dared to push. Istvan let their lips graze over each other. Hot sparks rolled over his body. Erik made a sound, opened mouthed, right before whining. Quiet pleading only meant for one person. The older man let his hand drop to his chest.
The boy surged forward firmly pressed their lips together. Erik cupped the side of Istvan‘s head, who sucked on his lower lip before pulling back. Erik moaned and chased after the other. He fisted his brown locks, tongue licked inside coaxing out Istvan’s. Erik formed his lips around it. Shoes hit the ground. Erik pushed Istvan’s shoulder, who fell back into the bench. Istvan was flushed, mouth was red and shiny from the spit. His chest heaved, tongue subtly darted over the place where Erik had bit him. The younger man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Footsteps got louder. Two people. Erik tensed but they passed by, soon nothing more than a faint echo. The younger man frowned, felt short taken, he had been so occupied with Istvan. He hadn’t watched his surroundings, hadn’t checked for other entrances. His body took over and he half stood up. Istvan’s leg still in his lap. The other grabbed him by the shirt.
“You’re not supposed to do anything right now. You don’t need to make sure. Just sit with me.”
He slowly settled back. But he needed to make sure they were save. That was his job.
“Come on, Erik, relax. You’re not at work.” A warm hand ran over his chest to his neck, squeezed the muscle until Erik let out the breath he had been holding. He sunk against Istvan, who embraced him with open arms. He drew in the familiar scent. The boy sat up again scratched through his hair. He fidgeted around with his glass. Thump ran over the ridges and dents.
“Sorry.”
Istvan shook his head, “Don’t be.”
Erik took a sip of his drink.
“Can I have a taste?”
Erik brought his mouth to the glass and pushed Istvan gently on the backrest. His head tilted back and Erik placed his mouth on top of the other’s. Istvan sucked the liquid in, lifted his head and swallowed.
“Sweet and strong.“
Erik nipped on the corner of his lips lapping the mixture off.
“Mh.”
He loosened Istvan’s tie and opened the shirt buttons, chasing the escaped droplets. He pushed the collar to the side revealing the soft curve of his neck. Skin trembled as he placed kisses along it. He worked himself up until he sucked the flesh in, leaving red marks. He squeezed his crotch. Istvan arched his spine but Erik already pulled back. The older man slumped back into the cushion. The boy buttoned the shirt back up and fixed the tie. His gaze was heavy on Erik, who very proud with himself drank his cocktail. Istvan watched the Adam’s apple bob up and down. Felt the marks on his neck throb like the cock in his pants.
“You must be wanting it bad if you’re that bold in public.”
Erik’s legs jerked but he forced them to stay apart. Istvan smiled.
“Still haven’t got your reward. Have I made you wait for too long? How unsavoury of me.”
This time Istvan didn’t beat around the bush and went straight for Erik’s crotch, kneading through the layers of expensive fabric. Erik gasped and bucked into the touch. Pleasure flared from his abdomen through his whole body. He sharply breathed through his teeth.
Istvan leaned forward and whispered, “Bet you are bulging in your pants. I can’t wait for you to stuff your big, fat cock down my throat.”
Erik squeezed his eyes shut, face flushed red to the ears. The hand didn’t let up. He was so close but he wanted more than this. Erik’s eyes flew open, he caught his wrist in such a fierce grip it hurt. Istvan shuddered under Erik’s intense gaze. His heartbeat picked up. Little bumps spread over his neck, fine hair rose up.
“Let’s go home.”, the younger man said. Istvan could only dumbly nod. They scrambled out of the booth. Istvan saw how Erik went rigid. Every muscle tensing and then he relaxed his shoulders. Face went blank. In a weird way he was brimming with energy. Barely restrained yet perfectly contained.
Erik drank the rest of his cocktail and took the leather gloves from the bench. Must have fallen out of Istvan’s pockets. His skin felt itchy. They seized each other up. Erik tried to read the other man but he was mirroring his own blank expression back at him. Istvan lowered his gaze and rubbed his wrist, dulling the pain. Name stuck in his throat, he looked up as Erik turned his back. Istvan watched the perfectly relaxed shoulders for a moment before he trailed after him. Erik deliberately moved slow, taking each step with care. They walked down past the other booths, took a few stairs to the main flooring, past the bar to the exit. Some members of the staff bid them farewell. Istvan absently thanked them. The air outside was getting cold, despite the gentle breeze Istvan shuddered. He was itching for a smoke but the boy had quickened his pace. Erik led him through the maze of streets to a taxi and they drove home in silence. The older man didn’t want to do the first step and he knew Erik wouldn’t either. Which wasn’t a problem. Istvan was used to it. It was just something he had to work with. He swallowed the apology lying on his tongue. Sometimes he didn’t fucking know what Erik needed at the moment. Istvan kept his hands in his lap, during the car ride, stopped them from wandering to the other. Couldn’t take another rejection.
All he had wanted was a nice dinner with Erik and now he got the fucking silent treatment.
He kept his eyes on his feet as they drove the elevator up into the apartment. His own neediness made him dizzy. It dinged as the elevator arrived at their floor. Erik went first, waited until the other stepped out and trailed after Istvan reversing their positions. At the apartment door Istvan fumbled around with the keys. Erik leaned against the wall. The older man tightened his jaw. Felt the boy staring.
Oh, now I exist?
He bit the inside of his cheek trying not to ruin the evening any further. The lock clicked open.
The boy and his damn stubbornness. How are we supposed to fuck now?!
Istvan didn’t want to fuck. Istvan wanted to have sex with Erik. The door fell shut behind them. He stood there in the hallway at loss for words. Didn’t knew what to do with himself. Istvan waited, every second sickening, for Erik to double-down and walk upstairs to his room. To close the door and not come out again for the near future. Erik cupped the underside of Istvan’s chin. Still no reaction.
“All that talk and you can’t even look at me.”
Istvan’s head snapped up. His hands clawed at Erik’s white shirt. His eyebrows curved into a deep frown. Istvan shook his head the sound stuck in his throat. Erik let himself be dragged by his collar. Hand formed around his face. He pushed forward and their mouths smashed together. His hands came around Istvan’s middle pressing him impossible close. Istvan was lifted up. He gasped for air between kisses. He wriggled around and Erik let him down. Harsh breathing filled the room. Erik pulled him close again.
“You make me crazy.”, he whispered between open mouthed kisses.
Istvan whined. He started tearing at his own jacket. Erik followed his example and kicked off his shoes. They stumbled to the bedroom. Leaving a trail of clothes behind. The older man found the light switch in the dark and the room was cast in shallow warmth.
“Kneel.”
Istvan turned and sank to his knees besides the bed. Erik stepped closer. The other trailed up his legs. Dug his thump into his thighs, stretching the seam of his trousers.
“Did you-”, there were dark spots where Erik had soaked through the fabric.
“Yes.”, the younger man opened his trousers. Istvan peeled them down while he pressed against Erik’s crotch. Tongue circled the wet spots, lapping off the slick. He moved to Erik's bulging clit, sucked at the sodden boxers and drew in the rigid cock. Inhaled the scent and his own dick pulsed. Istvan groaned hard as Erik fisted his hair and roughly bucked into his face, dragged his burning mound over Istvan's open mouth and his smoldering tongue. Hands cradled his side, tugged at his waistband. The boy seized his rutting. His boxers stuck sodden to his skin. Fabric rolled down. Istvan took in ragged breathes as he watched the strings of Erik’s arousal stretch and eventually snap. Tongue licked teasingly at his labia. Hair clung sticky to the skin. Erik shuddered, air ran over his exposed groin.
“Bed.”, Erik grumbled. Istvan was pressed down into the pillow as Erik placed his knees next to his head. He rutted his abdomen over Istvan’s mouth, groaned as the older man slid his tongue between his labia. Erik arched his back and mindlessly rutted the flat tongue over his clenching hole to his straining cock. His clit bumped against Istvan’s nose. He caught it between his lips sucked it deeply in, tongue ran over Erik’s cock and its engorged ridges. His heartbeat hammered in his ears. Whole body flushed red. Sweat ran down his back. Pleasure built and built. Erik rocked his hip, Istvan’s hollowed cheeks pulled the hood back and forth over his cock. He came with erratic jerks racking through his body and he kept coming as Istvan didn’t let up. For a few seconds Erik hovered in his orgasmic high only for the pleasure to overreach. It was all too much. Erik gasped in pain. Istvan delatched from the overly sensitive tissue with a wet sound. Erik sat down on his chest, carefully not to put his whole weight onto the other man. They stared at each other breathing heavily, flushed faces. Istvan nudged him. With trembling legs Erik moved his dripping mound over Istvan’s lips. Tongue breached his pulsing entrance, he hungrily swallowed the heady mixture coming from the leaking hole.
Erik crawled off and straddled his hips. He bend down, Istvan’s arms pulled him close. Wet kissing sounds echoed through the room. Erik tasted himself on Istvan’s lips, sucked at his wet chin, around his mouth, his cheeks.
He ground against Istvan’s still clothed cock. Erik caught Istvan’s wrists and pushed them over his head into the mattress.
“Want to fuck my hole?”
“yes.”
“Yea?”
“Yes.”, Istvan desperately rutted upwards deeply frowning. A smile split Erik’s face. His hand cradled down Istvan’s body who squirmed and whined. Erik gripped around his scrotum through the layers of clothing and pressed several times. Slowly, the liquid was pumped into his cock. Erik used the spare time to free Istvan from his trousers and underwear. The older man moved his rear up. His socks and garters too went to the floor.
Erik extended his hand, “Watch.” The older man clicked his tongue but undid the watch-strap.
“I didn’t even check it once this evening.”
Erik kissed the back of his hand and placed the watch on the bedside table. The mattress dipped when he came back. Hands ran over Istvan’s hairy thighs. Fingertips crawled to the inside, up. Istvan's groin was pretty hairy except for the scar that ran over the middle of his scrotum. More scars were along the underside of his cock. Swift fingers avoided the areas where Istvan felt less sensation. The older man panted as knowing hands effortlessly teased his cock. Gently turned his balls in his palm. Erik firmly gripped at the root of Istvan’s dick. Hands kneaded his soft belly, threaded through the wiry hair and traveled upwards. Scar cratered across his upper body, curving the flesh under Istvan’s armpits. Fingers dug into the fleshy bits Erik pressed his face into his chest. Soft hair tickled his nose. Rubbed his cheeks against it, breathed in.
“Thank you for not wearing cologne today.”
Istvan’s snickering turned it open mouthed gasps when Erik ground their hips together. The now fully erect cock spread his labia. Clenching hole wetted his dick. Istvan moaned strained upwards. Erik placed his lips over the other’s. They gently made out while rutting their groins together. He felt Istvan’s hard cock bump against his clit.
After a few satisfying thrusts Erik pushed his pubic hair out of the way and sank down onto the cock. Went in easy. Erik sighed and rolled his hips. Hot walls gripped the length. When Erik moved up and down sporadically Istvan fucked up, skin slapping together. Istvan reached over tugging at his clit. They moan in unison. Walls clamped down. Erik moved Istvan’s hands to his buttocks and started fucking himself on his cock. Dropped his hips and the bed creaked. He clenched down hard every time he lifted his rear. Short thrusts he circled his hips. Sweat ran down his temples, ragged breathing filled the room. His legs burned. Erik watched the man beneath him become undone. Istvan scrunched his face. Heart pounding away. Came hard.
Exhausted Erik sank down into the cushions, lower half still connected to the other. Skin was shiny from the sweat. He felt Istvan harshly breathing beneath him, before it slowly evened out. The dick inside his hole began to move. Erik groaned into the pillow. Istvan rocked his hips up. The younger man tried to follow the motion but his limbs were too sluggish so he rolled to the side. Istvan scooted between his raised leg and fucked into Erik’s hole. Slowly increasing the intensity skin slapped against skin. The younger man dropped his head into the pillow, moans and little grunts escaped through his lax mouth as Istvan kept thrusting. His thighs were nudged to the side and Erik swiftly caught on, rolling on his back. In the same manner he placed a pillow beneath his hips.
Istvan pushed his legs up to his chest and widened the stance of his knees. Squelching sounds came from the relaxed fucked open hole. Strings of slick connected their rears. Istvan thrusted deeper in. Found a good rhythm and stuck to it. Erik was getting close. Dick hitting that firm spongy tissue. Breath turned ragged again. Erik reached between his legs formed index and thump around his clit and tugged harshly. He jerked his hips up. Istvan pulled out just in time as an orgasm rushed through Erik. He pushed while his limbs shook two short bursts of liquid released. Istvan played with Erik’s cock and more squirt dribbled out, rolled down into the pillow beneath. The younger man whined. Istvan soothingly brushed over Erik’s trembling tights. Gripped himself jerked his fist up and down his cock. Head sank down on Erik’s propped up knee. His eyes fell shut, concentrating on the sensation as he focused on the root.
“I want to suck you off.”
Istvan snapped his head up. Words were starting to make sense delayed.
“yea?”
Istvan nodded. They shifted around until Erik’s head laid between Istvan’s knees. Lips formed around the cock slowly sinking deeper. His throat strained, lips twitched but Erik breathed through his nose and relaxed. He swallowed around the intrusion and groaned. Istvan bend forward felt the vibrations engulf his groin. He leaned on Erik’s chest. Slowly moved his hips watched his cock disappear again and again. Erik diligently sucked him off hollowed out his cheeks. Cock bumped against the roof of his mouth along his tongue. His hands crawled over Istvan's thighs. Thoroughly kneaded the swell of his ass, gently tugged on the hair dusting his rear. Istvan shuddered with every wet sound coming from Erik’s throat. Incoherent praise poured from his lips. Doubtful that Erik could make something out but the tender rumbling heated his face and shoulders, crept over his chest. Istvan traced the flushed skin felt his heart thrumming underneath his fingertips. Clear liquid poured from his tip. Erik hungrily drew it in. Grunted and Istvan came. He let Erik suck in the milky beads before rolling off.
Istvan, grunting, feel into the mattress body thrummed. Half-asleep, he bend his dick at a stark angle and the saline solution was pushed back into the reservoir. His cock lost his rigidness. For a while they just laid there utterly exhausted. Dazed. Erik closed his eyes, deep breaths, sleep was pulling him in but the moist feeling between his legs started to get uncomfortable. He reached out for the nearest limb and squeezed. Istvan grumbled. Erik sat up and got the tissue box from bedside table. Wincing he cleaned himself between legs threw the drenched tissue in the bin, some missed the mark. The mattress dipped beside him Istvan leaned against him and too did some much needed cleaning up. Erik peeked over the edge of the bed and reached for the water bottle took a few sips before handing it to Istvan.
“That is unacceptable.” Istvan pointed at the used tissues on the floor.
Erik threw the stained pillow to the tissues and turned the lights off. He pushed the other back into bed. Made himself comfortable on Istvan’s chest.
“I mean it.”
“Get up and clean it then.” Erik didn’t make it through the sentence without snickering and pulled the blanket over them. No response was heard but weak grumbling. Sleep knocked them out right away.
They woke up when the sun stood high and its rays were unavoidable. Erik yawned groggily. He blindly searched for the other and pulled Istvan close after he found him. Fingers threaded through brown locks.
“We made a bit of a mess last night.”
Dazed Erik opened his eyes a bit. Clothes laid around the floor in disarray bed wasn’t in better condition either.
“Seen worse.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Istvan stood up in despite Erik’s protest. Went around checked the pockets of his pants. It dawned on the young man what he was looking for. He groaned and hid in the crook of his arm. Istvan came back with the stupid thing.
“No phones in the bedroom.”
Normally that would get him amused scoffing but today Erik’s comment got ignored. Istvan walked up and down. Shook his head and read the message again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your mother wants to meet you.”