emo band texts 2 // emo quartet au

// 113

Apparently Pete's not past begging yet. He skates his fingers down Mikey's back, his skin warm and a little sweat-damp, resting his hand on Mikey's ass and pulling forward. Mikey doesn't follow the motion straight away, he holds still, watching Pete, eyes hot and intense. "I'm on. I'm on you and in you, Pete." He rolls his hips to punctuate this fact and oh, yes. Pete likes that. Has been waiting for that for days. Mikey thrusts into him with the same steadiness that he uses to keep a rhythm going on his bass and it makes Pete's spine vibrate like the strings. "See? Feel me?" "No." Pete chokes out. Mikey turns his head and gives the side of his neck a sharp nip."Liar." He reaches back to adjust Pete's legs so that instead of being just tucked up to his chest, they're draped over Mikey's shoulders. "You're a fucking liar and I love you." This is better. This way Pete can dig in with his heels, leave bruises of his own over Mikey's shoulder blades as he pulls himself up so that he can get more of Mikey, who knows he's a liar and greedy and needs attention like most people need air and loves him in spite of it, maybe because of t. Mikey loves him. He just said so. "I can't," Pete pants because it feels good, full, but not right. The slide of Mikey's cock inside him is good. It's good and so full he could come right now if he wanted to but he doesn't because he was only lying a little. Yes, he can feel this but he can't feel Mikey, not like he wants to."Mikey, please." "Please what?" His voice is smooth. His bangs hang down over his glasses a little and the lenses are starting to fog at the edges. Pete wants to fix it. He wants to throw them across the room so he can see Mikey's dark eyes better. He wants to explain but he can't Words are failing him. Mikey does that to him - makes words fail. He's made English his bitch when it comes to every other human being on planet Earth but with Mikey, it's like he's learning to speak. So he curls upwards and kisses Mikey because maybe if his tongue fucks it's way into Pete's mouth like his dick is splitting him open it'll be enough. He wants it to be enough, wants to feel like he's Mikey's, like they're not so far away when they can't actually be any closer without some sort of scientific experiment gone wrong, like Jeff Goldbum in the Fly "I don't- Fuck." Mikey changes the angle of his thrust by pulling one of his knees forward. It makes pleasure spike through Pete's body like an electric shock. It feels fucking amazing but it's not what he meant. "I don't know. Just - I want to feel-Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, fuck me." "I am," Mikey pants as he slides home again and again. "Pete, Jesus Christ, I am, fuck. I am." Mikey's head drops forward like his head's too heavy to hold up, forehead pressed to Pete's, eyes scrunched closed. He whispers, "l am" one more time, the words pushing air against Pete's lips before he covers Pete's mouth with his own, fucking him with his tongue and his cock at the same time. Pete rocks up onto him, his hands clawing up Mikey's back, clinging to his shoulders, riding out the ache and spiking pleasure, drowning himself in Mikey's taste. He throws himself into it, eyes slammed shut, mouth open, taking everything, but it's still not enough. Not until Mikey's hand slides from Pete's hair, nails scraping down his throat, not deep but not gentle, and Pete has to break the kiss and gasp in a breath. When he pries his eyes open, Mikey's watching him, pink-cheeked and sweating, his eyes hot and knowing. He doesn't say anything, or lose his rhythm - he's still driving into Pete at a steady, brain-melting pace - he just lets his hand slip lower until his fingers brush Pete's healing tattoo again. The light brush is like a fire graze and Pete chokes on a breath. He's gripping Mikey's shoulders tight enough to leave marks now and the burn from Mikey's touch shoots straight to his dick. Shit, Mikey. Again." Mikey's head slips to rest in the curve of Pete's neck, his hair tickling Pete's skin as his mouth opens warm and hot on the soft flesh above Pete's collar bone. This time when he bottoms out he bites down, catching flesh between his teeth as he swipes his fingers across Pete's tattoo and the combination has Pete writhing under him, groaning something unintelligible, Mikey's name tied up in curses and pleading Mikey doesn't stop and Pete's going to lose his mind. Mikey's biting his way down Pete's neck, leaving a trail of pain and red hot ache and Pete's groaning and shoving back on every thrust. He's pushing his chest up against Mikey's hand, needing more fire in his skin, more sensation, more of the pleasure-pain-pleasure Mikey's clawing out of him.

His cock is trapped between their bodies, leaking and straining. He's riding so close to the edge he could come without it even being touched, just the sporadic brush of Mikey's belly at the head every time he pushes in could do it "Mikey, Jesus. Mikey, Mikey." Pete's voice starts working again and he wants to say more, tell Mikey what he's doing to him, how he's totally fucking unraveling him, but he can't get past that one word. The name is enough. Mikey's eyes meet his and his hand slides upwards, brushing over Pete's tattoo and setting fire to that patch of skin one more time before his hand settles at the base of Pete's neck, thumb stroking over Pete's pulse point. Mikey's biting down Pete's neck, little nips catching skin between his teeth like a pinch. These bites will leave different bruises, tiny red marks that will eventually purple and Pete will probably end up irn front of a mirror, tracing the line of them down his neck like joining the dots. For now he just hitches his hips up and rocks into it, enjoying being marked as much as hell admire the marks later. Mikey gets to the aching spot above Pete's collar bone, the big bruise he made before the one Pete can't see but knows is purple and glorious - and nips there too. It's like a rubber band snapping on the tender flesh when Mikey catches it between his teeth and Pete's hips seize up, shoving forward higher and harder than he has been. The movement throws Mikey forwards, his elbow slips, and for a brief, blinding moment the hand he has at Pete's neck presses hard, cutting Pete's airflow. For a split second, Pete's powerless over his own breathing. It's basic and necessary to live and Mikey's controlling it. The sensation and thought combine to make something so heady that Pete feels fucking high. It's over in a heartbeat. Mikey recovers, taking the weight off his hand and letting it slide to Pete's shoulder, but every atom in Pete's body is still singing "You okay? I didn't-" "No l'm good. I'm good, I'm good, l'm good." The words tumble out of Pete's mouth and he's already grabbing at Mikey's hand, dragging it back across his skin to his neck, fitting Mikey's fingers back where they were. "I liked it. Fuck. I really liked it." "Pete..." Mikey's eyes are huge and concerned behind his glasses. He's not moving anymore, his body still, sweat-slick and panting. He's still inside Pete, hard and filling him, but he's stopped thrusting and his hand is limp under Pete's fingers. Pete's running on reserve brain power, all he can think is that he wants, needs more of this. "Mikey just... can you just..." He laces his fingers with Mikey's, pressing down, pressing until he can feel the weight closing his windpipe. Not enough to stop him breathing, just enough that it's there, tight and constricting. His head buzzes as he sucks in a shallow breath, it's all he can manage and fuck, he's shuddering, his cock jerking at the sensation. He has to reach down and take his dick in a chokehold or he's going to lose it too soon A whine leaks from his lips as he releases the pressure, letting Mikey's hand loosen. When he can focus, Mikey's looking down at him, eyes wide, his swollen mouth pulled into a hard line. "Pete, shit, I don't want to hurt-" "You won't. You won't I swear, just this much." He presses Mikey's hand again, ust to show him, but when the pressure is there he can't help but fall into it, a groan pushing out of his lips and his body rocks up against Mikey, shifting on his dick and the combination is fucking mind-blowing He gasps as he lets go of Mikey's hand, panting with want, his skin burning. "Please. Please, please I promise, if it's too much I'll just pull you off." Pete's fingers slide down to Mikey's wrist and he tugs gently, demonstrating. Mikey's wavering. "Pete, what if I fuck it up? "You won't. I trust you. I fucking love you Just, for me. Please?" Pete rocks up on Mikey again, fucking himself on Mikey's dick and Jesus, he's so close already. Mikey will be lucky if he gets three strokes at this rate. He paws at Mikey's hip, squeezing hard with his fingers and pulling Mikey forwards, encouraging him to move. Pete knows he's got Mikey before Mikey does. Despite the firm set of his mouth, Mikey's eyes are burning into him, he's so fucking turned on, maybe even as much as Pete. Pete pushes his advantage, arching up off the bed to take Mikey's mouth in a hard, wet kiss. Mikey moans into their oined lips and starts to thrust again, slow and deliberate, each slide undoing Pete from the inside. It's almost too much on its own, but then Mikey fits his hand to Pete's neck, thumb over his pulse, and presses. If Pete had breath to spare, he'd shout. As t is he can only groan weakly in his throat, making Mikey's hand vibrate with it. He peels his eyes open and fixes them on Mikey, who's watching him with a fascination that's close to wonder. "Like that?" Mikey eases the pressure a little, but not by much, so Pete's voice is hoarse and breathy. "Yeah. Fuck. Like that." Pete wants to scream when Mikey doesnt move. Or not. He will probably just breathe as best he can around the pressure because his voice isn't working that great like this, which is part of the point He doesn't feel like he's going to black out or suffocate but with Mikey pressing on his windpipe like this, Pete can feel his lungs. No one has ever gotten this far under his skin before. It's like Mikey's in his organs with the tightness in his ribcage and around his lungs, his heart. When Mikey finally moves, pushing in slower than before with so much of his attention focused on keeping his grip on Pete's neck on the right side of safe, it's better than anything Pete could've hoped for.