Mike mouthed Crandall’s cock until Crandall ‘s singing faded to a whimper of protest and he pushed Mike away. Mike turned from Crandall’s cock to kiss his thigh, his hip, his stomach. From the next room, an eruption of clapping and a single wall-muffled hoot startled Mike from his worship. He looked up at the wall, mortified, and then hung his head. Once the noise stopped, Mike pressed his cheek to Crandall’s stomach and cursed quietly.
“Thank you!” Crandall shouted at the wall. He laughed as Mike cringed. He brushed Mike’s hair off his chest, gathering it at the nape of his neck. “Don’t fucking worry about it, Mike. It’s not like Ash though you were a virtuous virgin.”
Mike sighed and snaked his arms around Crandall’s waist. “I know,” he said softly. “I just…”
“I don’t understand,” Crandall said. He’d tried. He’d thought about it many times, and each time he’d thought he’d figured it out, understanding slipped away.
“It’s no one else’s business.”
“That’s fucking lame, Mike.” He softened his statement with a tender caress, brushing hair back from Mike’s face as he spoke. “I’m sorry, but it is. You have to hide what you are because you think it’s no one’s fucking business. Since it’s not their business, then just be you and fuck them.”
“I’d rather fuck you.” Mike’s words were muffled, his head turned away, but Crandall still caught something wistful in his voice.
“So do it,” Crandall said, “but be proud that you make me scream. I enjoy it. You enjoy it. What the fuck difference does it make that one or two random strangers might be disgusted with the thought of us getting off. Fuck them. They probably never had a decent orgasm in their lives.”
Mike’s chuckle tickled Crandall’s bare stomach. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”
“It is. You’re making yourself miserable for the sake of someone else’s opinion.”
Mike shifted, propping his head up on one hand to look down at Crandall. “If only I could not care about other’s options as easily as you do.”
“I care.” Crandall slid an arm under Mike and grabbed a handful of his hair with the other. He guided Mike over him, and their mouths together. As Mike relaxed, Crandall moved his head, showing Mike how much he wanted Mike to nip and nibble at his neck. He began to breathe hard, writhing and wiggling against Mike’s weight as he triggered all those little erogenous zones from his earlobe to his collarbone. In between soft cries of encouragement, Crandall said, “I care about what my friends think, not what fucking morons who are too ignorant to come up with a valid reason for spouting their crap think.”
Mike hummed against Crandall’s neck. He lapped at the hollow of Crandall’s throat, teasing with the tip of his tongue.
Mike hummed again, but didn’t stop bathing Crandall’s skin with kisses, licks, and nips.
Crandall’s fist tightened in Mike’s hair and tugged. Mike looked up and said, “You know that kind of turns me on?”
“What? Pointing out that you’re beating yourself up for fucking nothing?”
With a snort and a roll of his eyes, Mike said, “No, Crank, pulling my hair, showing me exactly what you want.” He grinned, showing all his teeth as he ran the tip of his tongue over them. His eyes shined and his lids drooped, and Crandall knew he was in for a hell of a fucking. As agreement, or maybe encouragement, or possibly simple stubbornness, he tugged Mike’s head back further, stopping him from lunging forward for a kiss.
“Typical, Mike,” Crandall said slowly releasing the tension so Mike could press his entire body close to Crandall’s again. “Change the subject to sex. Maybe you need a head shrink for all that avoidance.”
“Are you mad?” Mike asked as he peppered light, quick kisses along Crandall’s jawline.
Mad? No. Frustrated, hell fucking yeah. Crandall opened his mouth to argue again, but Mike chose that moment to sit back on his heels, and flip Crandall over. Eager for another round, Crandall forgot what he was about to say and pulled one knee under his hips, arching his back to angle his ass upward invitingly.
They could talk later.