Manthony ✨

Constellations

~CONSTELLATIONS~

⚠️TW: ⚠️Smut - If you do not like smut, don't read! Thank you and enjoy! :)

ATTENTION: This is FANFICTION and none of this is CONFIRMED. No hate to ANY of the Chase Atlantic members or their girlfriends, please! Enjoy <3

Idea by Alex_Wreck_ENGLISH

~Christian~

Blanket in one hand, Mitchel's hand in the other, we walk over to a park nearby our apartment and find a clearing to lay the blanket down and collapse beside each other, fingers intertwined as we stargaze,

"Thought this would be a nice change," I say and he turns his head to look at me,

"It's a great change," he smiles and we turn to look back up at the stars, "Ooh look! The big dipper," he says and points up, grabbing my hand and placing the tip of my pointer finger right on the constellation, "I can always find the big one but never the small one," he says and I laugh,

"I can't find any," I joke and he laughs before we try to make shapes with the stars, using our fingers, drawing imaginary creatures and objects,

"I'm hungry," he says and I laugh,

"Give it a minute you fatass," I tease,

"Hey!" He shoves me playfully and we stare at the stars a bit more,

"I love you," I whisper and he turns to me, laying on his side, gray eyes sparkling along with the stars. I look at him for a while, brushing hair behind his ear and letting my eyes fall over his lips. I trace his bottom one with my thumb, watching his eyes close under my touch. I take my thumb away and lean in, gently kissing him. His hand cups my face and we're kissing softly, gently, like if we keep kissing and let it get deeper, we'll end up making love rather than just banging. Eventually, I part my lips and he slips his tongue into my mouth and I sigh. I'm going to get hard from this kiss. His tongue in my mouth gets me each time. He strokes at my tongue with his and I moan softly into the kiss, grabbing him and slowly moving my body on top of his. He grips my arms, running his hands over me and I can feel my erection growing under my pants,

"Did you bring condoms?" He asks and I break away from the kiss,

"Yeah, lube too," I breathe and he exhales softly, taking his shirt off, the evening summer air making it less of a pain to be naked. It's not like anyone is going to show up. We're halfway through the woods (yeah, our park leads into the woods) in a clearing,

"How about we move our blanket under the trees a bit more so we aren't illuminated by the moon as much," I offer and he nods, helping move our stuff. Once we're set, we get back to our make out session and I pull out a condom, digging the lube out of a small bag I brought just in case. I unbutton my pants, hovering over him as he does the same with his jeans,

"Can we make love?" He asks and I slip out of my boxers,

"That was my plan," I say, opening the lube and pouring a good amount into my hand, giving myself a few good tugs until my tip is shiny. I put some more onto my finger and rub it on the rim of his ass, gently pushing in after a while,

"I really love you, Mitchel," I whisper and he brings me in for a kiss,

"I really love you too, Christian," he says and I smile softly, continuing to stretch him out, my aching erection throbbing as I think of being inside of him,

"You're so handsome," he says, running his hands over my arms again, down to my chest, brushing his thumbs over my nipples, the sensitive buds becoming immediately erect under his touch,

"You're more handsome," I feel sappy and horny at the same time and I'm trying to figure it all out. When he's all prepared, I give myself a few more tugs, my dick hard as hell and ready to be inside of him. The head wet with my pre-cum. I press the tip to his entrance and leave it there for a minute. I gently rub it against him and the reaction it raises out of him is perfect,

"Oh my God," he whispers, "Can you do that more often?" He asks and I keep rubbing gently,

"This?" I ask and he nods,

"It turns me on," he says, relishing in the feeling, basking in his new turn on. I kiss him, gently starting to push inside him, getting the head into his tight entrance and going at a comfortable pace for him. Once I'm buried balls deep in him, we stay there a moment, my face buried in the crook of his neck, his nails lightly scratching my back. He holds me tight, close. My breathing shifts when he shifts, his body clenching around me,

"You can start moving," he whispers and brushes his lips against my neck. I exhale shakily and start up a pace, slow at first, really getting him comfortable. I look in his eyes and he looks in mine. We stay like this for a while: me thrusting at a steady pace and him closing his eyes now, his fingers reaching past the blanket to grab at the grass. We make eye contact again until he tilts his head to the side and moans softly,

"Right there," he whispers, only making me abuse the spot, watching his face contort in pleasure. He clenches around me dangerously and I go a little bit faster, desire starting to overtake what we've got going on at the moment. He reacts and tells me to go faster; I do. What was once silent (not completely) love-making is slowly shifting to lustful sex where I'm keeping his hands tightly pinned above his head while I thrust harshly into him, watching his face scrunch up and that's when I feel his orgasm nearing by the way he pants and his skin is dappled with sweat beads. It's arousing to see him in such pleasure. It only urges me to bring him over the edge, which I do, watching as he makes a mess of us (and the blanket). He pushes me off of him, telling me to lay on my back. I'm so desperate for release, the skin of my erection stretched tight,

"I wanna ride you," he says and I watch him straddle my hips and sink back down onto me, rolling his hips, heat pooling into my stomach as he does his part,

"Fuck," I breathe and he leans down and kisses me before pulling away to move faster, helping me over the edge. I explode inside of him and when he pulls off, a little bit of my release is dripping out of him. We lay there for a while, breathing before he turns to me,

"Let's get dressed and head home, we needa clean," he says and I lay there for a minute, exasperated,

"Mkay," I reply and we pull our clothes back on, grabbing the now soiled blanket and heading home, holding hands like we did on our way here,

"I love you," he whispers again and I squeeze his hand, repeating the phrase for the millionth time, meaning it a million times more each time.