𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚 ⚣ 𝙘𝙩𝙝+𝙖𝙛𝙞 ✔

34

idk i would apologize but i high key ship them now so

-

He arrived within fifteen minutes and let himself in, just as Calum had told him to. The second he was inside, he was pressed against the door and kissed messily. He let it go on for a few long moments, even grabbed onto Calum's hips, but he had to pull away. "Sweets, baby, slow down. What's the rush?"

"I need you, please."

The man hummed deeply, eyeing Calum up and down. "You look..." He kissed his neck gently, "Stunning."

Calum's face flushed pink. "Thank you."

"Now..." The man reached behind him and locked the door, then pushed him backwards towards his bedroom and kissed him again. "You said you needed me, hm?"

Calum nodded eagerly. He really did. Needed to be put in his place. Hurt, used, anything. He didn't care. The man hoisted him up by his thighs and carried him to his bedroom, quite literally throwing him onto the bed. He climbed on top of him, making himself comfortable between Calum's legs as he joined their lips sweetly; one hand idly wrapped around his throat.

Calum weaved his fingers through the man's hair. He was putty in his hands. The man pressed his hips down and Calum whimpered. They kissed, slowly and passionately, until neither could wait anymore. The man discarded of their shirts and began to trace the tattoos on his chest and stomach.

"So...beautiful doesn't even begin to cover it..." He sucked and nibbled at Calum's neck, then grabbed onto his chin to force their gazes together. Calum, suddenly shy, tried to look away, "Look at me, sweetheart. You are absolutely ravishing."

"Thank you." He repeated, even quieter.

"I've wanted you for so long, ever since I first laid eyes on you."

A shiver ran up Calum's spine. The man went back to sucking at his neck. A moan escaped his lips. He left his mark all over Calum's tan skin; down his neck (adoring the moan he earned when he reached his sweet spot) and down his chest, licking over the marks to soothe them and kissing over the beautiful tattoos he didn't dare tamper with because they were works of art on their own.

Once satisfied with the mosaic of bruises he'd left on Calum's chest, he climbed back up and joined their lips sloppily. He loved kissing Calum. He had the softest lips and he didn't know of a better word to describe him than addicting. But despite wanting to do nothing more than kiss him forever, he pulled away. He had a question to ask.

"Tell me how you like it." He whispered against those perfect, plump lips. "I just want to please you."

Calum tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck. "Fuck me like you mean it. Don't be gentle. Don't hold back."

So Harry didn't.

-

Hours later, the pair lay entangled beneath a thin sheet in Calum's bed, out of breath, smiling wide, stupid (and only a little bit intoxicated) smiles. Harry couldn't take his hands off of Calum, not even for a second. He had to have his hands on his waist or in his hair or his thighs--god, Harry really loved Calum's thighs--because he just had this need to keep him close that he couldn't explain and couldn't even begin to understand.

And Calum loved it. Truly. He could not get enough of it. He loved having all this attention on him. He loved reciprocating it, too. For so long, he'd had absolutely nowhere to direct all this affection but now he did and it felt wonderful. He loved that right now, if he looked down at Harry's chest, there were marks that he left, and he just looked so pretty that Calum could've died.