Tongue - An R.E.M. Fanfic

Untitled Part 1

Soon after leaving the airport, Mike catches a taxi. He's obviously freshly showered, his hair still damp, wearing a striped longsleeve and sinfully tight black jeans. He goes to check the time on his phone when he sees: 17 missed calls, Mr Stipe. 36 text messages, Mr Stipe. Mike feels his pants get even tighter - possible or not.

Mike arrives at Michael's apartment at a little after eight.
The moment he's walked through the door Michael has him against the wall, pressing his hands up above his head, kissing him so fierce he might leave bruises.

Michael pulls away. "God, I missed you."

"This was your idea..." Mike reminds him before he's shut up with another kiss.

"This week was almost too much." Michael mumbles against Mike's mouth, who can only moan around his tongue in reply.

They don't even make it into the lounge. Michael slides his hand into Mike's jeans and strokes his cock hard and fast until he's gasping. Mike throws his head back against the wall, bucking up into the touch.

"Please..." he whimpers.

"You've been driving me crazy this entire week. Fuck, Mikey, you have no idea..."

"I think I have." Mike smirks. "Can't you feel it?"

Michael grins down at the shaft in his fist and squeezes once before turning Mike around by his shoulders, face forward against the wall and pulling his jeans and boxers down over his ass to mid-thigh. Mike turns his face to the side and Mr Stipe uses the opportunity to push two fingers into his mouth for Mike to suck. Mike enjoys this evidently. When they are glistening wet, he goes to rub his fingers against the hole.

"This might hurt."

"Okay, come on." Mike can't spread his legs properly which makes him even tighter when Stipe pushes both fingers in at the same time. Mike clenches and shudders but soon relaxes, taking it with small huffs indicating both pleasure and pain. Michael doesn't give him much time to adjust, however.

"I need you, now," he mutters.

"Then take me."

Michael has a condom in the pocket of his jeans - which aren't as tight as Mike's but still clenched to his skinny legs. He tears the package open before unzipping his own trousers, getting his hard cock out and rolling the condom on.
He glances at Mike, whose eyes were closed shut. Stipe closes his eyes too, pushing into Mike slow yet deliberate.

When Mike screamed Michael pressed his huge hand over his mouth. He truly doesn't want the neighbors to call the police.

Mike braces himself on his folded arms against the wall as Michael starts to brutally fuck him. His face goes red both with silent screams and the lack of oxygen. Michael knows by now that this is something Mike gets definitely off on.

It doesn't take long before he shatters, shooting his load all over the wall. Mr Stipe follows suit, coming deep inside.

"Jesus Christ. Are you all right?" Stipe asks as he pulls out. He quickly ties the condom off and sinks onto his knees to pull Mike's ass apart. He seperates the two sides. The boy above him outright shrieks while still panting, trying to get his breath back.

"What... fuck, Michael... what are you...?" Mike buries his flushed face in the crook of his elbow.

"Just checking on you." Michael tells him, his voice thick with lust although he just came moments ago. Staring at Mike's red, swollen hole makes something coil tight in his stomach. It's beautiful, innocent, sensitive, tender and delicate like the whole boy – and his to wreck. Michael imagines his come leaking out of the small hole as his thumbs spread him just a little wider.

"God, you have no idea what you do to me."

Mike sighs above him. "Tell me." He whispers into his folded arms.

"Right now, for example, I'm fantasizing about watching my cum dripping from your ass."

"Ohhh," Mike cants his narrow hips. "You could, you know that?"

Michael grins but instead of an answer he gently presses the tip of his tongue inside Mike's sore rim. Wet against the raw entrance.

Mike jumps, his whole body going rigid at the unfamiliar touch. "What the- No! Michael?!" He squeals and tries to squirm away but Michael's hands cover both sides of his ass, pinning him in place. There's no escaping the onslaught. He laps again at Mike's delicious hole, trying to push his tongue in as deep as possible before gently sucking at the sensitive entrance.

He can hear Mike moan softly.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like that," Michael breathes against Mike's wet sphincter when he eventually pulls back, still spreading him open, exposing him. When he looks up what he can see of Mike's face is blushing a deep beetroot. "What is it, kitten?"

"This is... oh god, Michael... you can't put your tongue there..." Mike mumbles, his voice thick with shame.

"Can't I? Just imagine me sucking my own cum from deep inside your hole before spitting it back into your open mouth... you swallowing it and fucking loving the taste."

Mike groans and his hole twitches.

"Don't tell me that doesn't turn you on."

Mike shakes his head.

"Then I'm afraid we'll have to overcome your sensibilities, my precious delicate wilting flower." Michael gets up, pulls first his and then Mike's pants up in one go – almost trapping his boy's still or again half-hard cock in the fly – before taking him by the wrist, and pulling him into the sitting room.

"Undress and get on your knees in front of my couch." Michael calmly orders.