Page 71 of Game Misconduct
Danny was flushed red with painful arousal and embarrassment at the way his hips canted up into it, chasing the friction of Mike’s jeans against his overheated skin. At the way Mike pushed him back down to prevent it. At the way his entire body was trembling and desperate even as he tried to rein himself back under control.
He reached for Mike, who slapped his hand away. “I told you, you can’t touch me until I let you.”
Danny didn’t say anything, couldn’t bring himself to sayplease, even though he wanted it so fucking badly. It was torture, how exposed and raw he felt, with Mike in his lap still fully clothed. “You’re a fucking terror.” His voice was thin and strained, and he was kind of shocked by how messed up it sounded.
“Learned from the best, dude. Hey, let’s take this upstairs, huh?”
Mike slid out of his lap, and when Danny stood to make the long, naked walk, slapped him on the ass. Danny whirled around, on instinct, but caught himself, fists clenched. Mike smiled, slow and hot and full of promise, and said, “That’s it, babe,” and some icy thing in Danny’s chest broke away.
Once they were in the bedroom, Mike walked Danny toward the bed, set his hand against Danny’s sweaty chest and shoved him backward, hard enough that he lost his balance, tipped onto the blankets. And Mike finally,finallystripped off the rest of his clothes and Danny forgot to breathe for a second, staring at the now-familiar lines of his body, the tattoos that he had finally memorized and dreamed about sometimes, the lean muscle and whipcord strength of him.
Mike was on his knees between Danny’s legs. “You good?”
“I want tocome.”
“Eventually.”
“Jesus, Mike.”
Mike didn’t say anything, just pressed his mouth against Danny’s hip and sucked a hickey into it, the sharp pain lancing through him, and he hissed. It went on like that, Mike torturing him with his mouth and his hands, getting him close, so close, and then taking his hands away. His whole body was on fire and all he could think about was release. He could feel it, balls tight, toes curling.
Sudden agony; the side of his face. Mike had slapped him, and Danny’s entire body rolled in a shudder of pleasure.
“Not until I tell you.”
“You haven’t—” Danny gasped for air. “You haven’t even fucked me yet.”
“I know. Do you want me to?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Danny,” Mike said, flashing one of those unfairly impish smiles. “You only had to ask.”
“Fuck you,” Danny started to say, but it came out more likefuuu-ah, because Mike slapped him again. This time, he just groaned.
By the time Mike had found the lube and condoms Danny was almost frantic, still holding himself back, probably looking like a crazy person. He felt like a crazy person. His body was a livewire, every inch of him primed and sensitive when Mike touched him, shivering. Mike didn’t look much better. The longer they went, the wider his eyes were, the more Danny couldn’t stop staring at his mouth, parted and damp. He was—he was something else. He was beautiful.
Danny was going to die and he was going to die unfulfilled and happy for it.
They were both silent when Mike slid into him, slow and inexorable, until he had bottomed out inside. An uncomfortable stretch at first as Danny panted, shuddered, getting used to the feeling. He couldn’t stop staring up at Mike, the way his eyes slipped shut when he did it, the way the muscles in his shoulders flexed as he held himself above Danny.Move, move, move, I need you to move, Danny thought, but Mike just stayed there, so frustratingly still except for the tremble in his arms that betrayed this wasn’t easy for him either.
When he did move, finally, it was so slow, so steady, that Danny almost cried. It was torture, it wasn’t what he wanted, what he needed, and his body moved on instinct, hips thrusting up to try to move things along. Mike’s eyes snapped open. His palm cracked against Danny’s cheek, once on the left side of the face, once on the right.
Danny whimpered. Fucking whimpered.
“You’re really bad at following directions, dude,” Mike gasped.
“I’m—I’m sorry—”
“Fuck, Danny...”
Mike started to fuck him again, that same steady pace, almost, almost—it wasn’t what he needed, but his body was already primed and trembling on the edge of an orgasm, felt like it had been forever, and the friction of Mike’s steady, deep thrusts was going to drag it out of him against his will. Danny could hear himself, gasping, could feel a burning sensation at the corners of his eyes, screwed shut, could feel the way his dick had somehow gotten harder, the way his balls had drawn themselves up.
“You’re not—allowed—” Mike managed, like it was torturing him to keep that pace just as much as it tortured Danny.
“Iknow, I’mtrying...” When he opened his eyes, he saw Mike was watching him, and the look in his eyes scourged him. Another chip in the ice. “Mike...please...”
“Please?”