And, Love

Part 6

You gasped, eyes clenching shut as your body writhed under Mikey's scrutiny.

It was humiliating, fingering yourself in front of him.

It was fucking hot fingering yourself in front of him. The unparalleled intensity in his eyes, the labor of his breathing, the tightening of his grip on your thighs as his gaze zeroed in on you stretching yourself for him. The way his body rippled as you moaned, free hand wrapping around his wrist.

"Michael?" You breathed, needing more.

Needing him.

A low hum as he reached for the lube. Shivers ran over your skin, the desire hollowing out your stomach as you used his grip to lift yourself for him, as his finger pushed against you. Electric. Burning. Your whole body yearning at the sensation of him entering you slowly, painstakingly gentle. Sparks flashed behind your eyes as he tilted his knuckles.

"Here?"

His voice swam around you, sensation making you dizzy. His finger, his skin, his touch, his body brushing against your legs, his mouth leaving whispers of a trail over your skin. Down your thigh, skirting over your hips, abdomen. Purposefully avoiding where you needed him most.

"Wait-" a gasp as pleasure speared through you, hands desperately clawing at his forearm, body arching into his palm. "Wait-"

"I have waited." His response held a laugh in the words, his finger working against you with purposeful intent.

Head fell back as Mikey brought your body higher, higher, legs clenching, hips squirming.

"Mi-" a sharp gasp as his hand pressed against you, burying deep inside of you.

Fists clenched, breath escaped you as the power of sensation stole through your limbs, toes curling. Yet it wasn't enough. You wanted him, you needed him. You loved him.

"Please," the only word you could muster, all others slipping out of your brain in a barely coherent jumble, lost to the dizzying high Mikey was guiding you towards. "Please?" A cry, a whine. A desperate plea dwelling in your chest, falling off your tongue.

For all of him, for everything. For what you knew you couldn't have.

For a second he seemed to be deliberating, then his tongue ran over you, base to tip. You shoved a hand over your mouth to stifle your cry, body rocking in response to the fire that exploded in your veins, consuming your rationality.

His fingers squeezed your thigh as he pulled his finger out. The sudden emptiness inside you elected a whine, your hips moving in dissatisfaction.

You were half mad, delirious.

Pressure as he pushed against you, inside you. The burning gave way to satisfaction, the sensation of Mikey filling you nearly brought you to orgasm. Eyes opened wide, breath stolen by the sudden thrust. His thighs against you, ankles over his shoulders, arms pinning you still, tight against him.

"Fuck." The word a whisper, a roar, from his lips. "Fuck." Repeated as his eyes opened, took in the sight of you beneath him.

Fingers left your leg to run gently over your exposed body, trip over your chest, collar bone. Up your throat, across your lips. Easily you opened your mouth for him, finger entering you, filling you. Groan escaped around his knuckles as you bit down.

Hips lifted as he pulled out, slamming back into you with a force that made your entire body shudder, eyes clenching, hands fist in the sheets.

Mikey's body tightened around you, head bowed, eyes squeezing shut as he continued his frantic pace. You couldn't breath, gasps and the sound of skin hitting skin mingled in an erotic staccato.

"You feel so good." Ground out from a clenched jaw, head fell back as your legs lowered, finger left your mouth as he brought your knees over your chest. His hand fisting around you as his hips moved at the same, frantic, steady pace.

You were going to lose your mind. Between his dick and his hand working you to the single-minded goal of orgasm, you had lost rational thought. Every nerve feeling key. Only Mikey.

His scent, his sounds, his feel. Just him. Only him. Always him.

"Fuck-" you fell against the bed, jaw clenching, body tightening as orgasm found you, body spamming around Mikey, his own gasp, a few jerky thrusts before he stilled, his flexed body relaxing after a moment.

"Wow." His breath stilling in his chest.

Sweaty bodies sticking as he pulled out, condom tied and tossed.

"You okay?" You felt his eyes on you.

You shrugged, but honestly everything inside of you just seemed to be worse. "Not bad for a straight guy."

Immediately you wished you had never said anything. Even in the dark you could see the way your words had wounded him.

"Oh." You watched him pull his shorts off the floor from where he'd been stepping on them. "Well." He shrugged, waistband snapping. "I haven't had that much practice so-"

Your heart squeezed at the joke he was attempting to make. "No, Mikey."

"It's cool." Hands rose, smile too wide, eyes scanning for his shirt. "I gotta go anyway. My brothers." He shrugged, "patrol. Gotta shower and-"

"You could just shower here?" Your voice too calm, overly calm. What was happening?

"I-" Mikey's face scrunched, hands bounced off his thighs, muscles bunched as he snapped his fingers with nervous energy. "You know. Maybe not... a good idea."

The situation spiraled too quickly for you to follow. Your stomach bottomed out as you watched him crawl over your bed, pausing by the window. "Call me when you get your cafe. I'll help."

"Wait!" You reached out, hand tangling in his shirt.

Mikey's gaze rose, the question in his eyes. You felt ridiculous. Naked, exposed. Chill from the sweat drying on your body giving way to goosebumps. Dried cum plastered on your body. Eyes scanned Mikey, trying to think of what to say. Anything to say.

Maybe you were too raw to process, to filter. Maybe your brain was half-dead from the sex you'd just had.

"Thank you." Horror filled you as the words slipped from your mouth. Anything to say, except that!

"Uh." His frown deepened, an unsteady chuckle. "Yeah?" Head twitched back. "Anytime."

"N-" But he was gone, dropping from your window. Exasperated you fell on your bed, bliss tainted by the stupidity you seemed to possess in spades. "Mother fucker!" You cursed yourself, fists flailing against your bed as you ragedcat yourself. "Stupid, stupid, idiot."

Laying, watching lights rove across the room as cars drove by. The chill increasing, exhaustion stealing over your limbs. Eventually you rose, plodding to the shower. Temping the water.

You tried to reason with yourself as you glared at your reflection in the mirror, waiting for steam to start fogging the glass. Maybe it was better this way.

Friends helping friends.

You sneered at your reflection. You should have stopped him, should have kept it in your pants. Obviously Mikey had done it as a favor. Obviously he'd been disgusted by it, by you, fleeing as soon as he could. You had just given him a convenient out. An exit strategy to leave under.

With a growl you pushed off the counter, falling under the boiling water.

But you couldn't scrub the sensation of Michelangelo off your skin. The bruises his touch had left, the ache in your body. The tactile memory of him all over you.

You groaned, stepping out of the shower. Towel drying and dressing quickly, racing into the kit heh, pulling out day old leftover pizza.

You needed a distraction, something to occupy your mind that wasn't what had transpired on the crumpled blankets of your bed, mocking you from the bedroom.

Eyes caught the spraypaint you had hidden on top of your cupboards. Half eaten pizza in hand you grabbed a backpack.

You knew exactly what you were going to do.