A Kiss and I Will Surrender
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Mikey/Ray
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, sex, bondage.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words, so fuck you and your fancy lawyers. (Hard. Up the ass.)
Summary: "All they need is instinct. Raw, animalistic instinct and the occasional fiery glance."
Notes: A oneshot born from sexual frustration and sleep deprivation. Oh dear. PWP to the extreme... I suppose you could consider this a spiritual sequel to Dance In The Dark? Idk, I just wanted to throw some nice words around and mix it with fucking.
This isn't how it usually goes down.
But hell, part of Ray can't help but wish this happened more often, and they haven't even gotten started yet.
Moonlight filters in through the lone window, illuminating the otherwise pitch black room with a glow that seems almost ethereal. It casts its light upon the bed where Ray lays now, eyes half-lidded, his bare chest exposed to the night.
Tentatively, he tests his restraints, the ropes tying him down refusing to give way and burning his wrists with the friction from his struggles. No, he isn't going anywhere. Not anytime soon, anyway. Not unless Mikey lets him.
That thought sets his heart racing, the rise and fall of his chest becoming shallower and shallower. He doesn't want to admit it, even to himself – he finds everything about this situation so fucking hot. He's helpless, trapped, at Mikey's mercy; it sounds so bad out of context, but right here, right now, it's everything he wants.
With each breath he takes he gets harder. From the frustration and want, from the slightly more desirable sort of friction in his jeans as he struggles. He writhes about, yet has no intention of trying to escape. It makes no sense.
Yet somehow, in some way, it sort of does. Logic has been thrown right out of the window.
He can feel Mikey's eyes on him, staring at him intensely. He can't see him, but he can imagine the smirk on his face. He'll be watching and waiting. Waiting for that exact moment when Ray becomes so desperate that he can't deny him contact any longer.
"Mikey..." says Ray, his voice hoarse.
A soft, almost inaudible laugh is his only response.
Mikey isn't quite as innocent as he leads the rest of the world to believe. No, there's a side to him few have seen – Ray being one of those few. A dominant streak, an alluring sort of confidence with a dash of cruelty. And fuck, does Ray love it. Where he's more careful, more wary, Mikey can take control in a split second.
But it's a double-edged sword. Mikey teases Ray to the point where he can't even form a coherent thought anymore, and then leaves him hanging until he begs for anything and everything.
"Mikey, please..." he tries again, a little louder this time. His movements become wilder; he's thrashing about, past caring about the pain from the rubbing of rope on skin and only feeling the rubbing of his jeans against his crotch. Ray wants attention right now. Craves it. Needs it.
Still, Mikey doesn't show himself. Ray swears he can hear him laughing at him again.
"I'll do anything, I swear. Don't leave me like this, Mikey-"
"Anything, Ray?" Mikey whispers hot and low into his ear, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and sending a shiver down his spine.
"Anything. I can't stand this for any fucking longer, just fucking touch me."
"Such a dirty mouth, Toro. Behave." He says with a playful lilt to his voice. Serious or not, Ray still obeys, keeping his mouth shut. "Now, that's much better..."
Mikey takes his time before making his next move – he's got all night. There's no rush, he isn't the one tied down here. Ray watches him, staying silent, but looking more and more desperate the longer he's left untouched. Mikey can see him holding back a whimper, biting down on his lip to the point where it almost bleeds.
Beautiful.
Softly, slowly, he ghosts the fingers of one hand down Ray's chest, feeling the light curls of hair there, seeing goose-bumps raise under his touch. A sigh escapes the other man despite his best attempts to keep quiet; it's as if every nerve ending has been set alight by Mikey's fingers. Too much to handle, but still not enough.
"M-mikey... more..." he breathes out, wound up to the point where he feels like he could break any second.
Mikey's ever-present smirk grows wider. "You asked me to touch you. I did."
"More..." he mewls, too overwhelmed to care about forming sentences.
"Someone's feisty tonight." Mikey climbs onto the bed, leaning over to straddle Ray. He leans in close, his nails digging into his lover's shoulders lightly, and now finally Ray can see him in the dim light. Kohl-rimmed hazel eyes gazing down at him, dark with lust and promise. A pale face framed by short, tussled hair.
Fuck, Ray wants nothing more to pull him down and kiss him senseless.
Mikey leans in even closer, impossibly close, snapping Ray right out of his little fantasy world. "Not that that's a bad thing... I love it." The younger man whispers, and Ray feels the warmth of his breath on his lips. He tries to reach upwards, desperate to kiss him, desperate for anything, but Mikey has him held firmly in place.
"I call the shots here, baby." He reminds Ray and nips at his already swollen bottom lip, teasing him with a taste of what could be.
Tilting Ray's head towards him again, Mikey looks him in the eyes as he drags his nails down his skin, replacing feather-light touches with an almost painful roughness. He inches further down his body, trails of bright red marks following his movements.
Ray hisses, arching his back slightly. Everything hurts, but everything feels so fucking good.
"When I said feisty, I wasn't kidding." Mikey whispers, barely loud enough for Ray to hear over the heavy fog of arousal clouding his senses. He's settled himself between Ray's legs now, and he still hasn't broken eye contact with him.
I'm not ashamed. The smouldering look he's getting practically screams at him. I'm in control. I've got you wrapped around my little finger. You're mine.
That look is enough to send him to the brink of insanity.
"Now, what to do with you..."
Ray can't do anything but growl in response.
Instinctively, Mikey leans closer to Ray's crotch, the heat of his every exhale seeping through the denim of Ray's jeans, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through him.
"Fuck, Mikey..." Ray feels like a broken record, reduced to incoherent thoughts, sounds, words on repeat.
"Y'know," Mikey begins, far too casually, "I could make you come without even laying a finger on you."
"Holy sh-shit..." he gasps, his throat going dry and making it even harder to speak.
"I could. I'd whisper a few words and you'd go over the edge, right here, right now. Or I could just leave you like this."
Ray shakes his head wildly, sweat-soaked curls sticking to his face. "No, please, please..."
"What do you want me to do to you, Ray?" Then he's face to face with his lover again, questioning, insistent. He places a hand on each cheek, pulling him closer and resting their foreheads in a moment of unusual gentleness.
"I... I..."
Mikey smiles evilly, digging his nails lightly into Ray's jawline. "Tell me. Go on, I know you can say it."
"Just fucking fuck me already!" he roars, his sudden ferocity making Mikey's eyes widen.
"Well, seeing as you asked so nicely..." A sarcastic remark, to say the least.
Mikey releases his grip, instead diving in to capture Ray's lips roughly. Ray fights back, finally getting what he wants, and soon the opening bout of heated kisses gets reduced to a messy clash of teeth and tongue. Blood trickles from bite marks, just minor wounds in this little battle soundtracked by gasps, hisses and whines.
"Fuck you...!" Ray growls. He knows Mikey's going to win this – he's got an unfair advantage, after all.
But Mikey just laughs, the sound coming from low in his throat. "I think you'll find that I'll be the one doing the fucking here."
Ray can't help but let out a noise of approval at the thought.
"You want this so bad, don't you?" he continues, punctuating each phrase with a nip at his collar bone, littering his skin with red marks. "You want it so fucking bad, you can't even speak. It's beautiful, Ray. You should see yourself right now. So undone and desperate. It really is fucking beautiful."
He's not even sure he has a reply for that. Fuck, how is he so good at driving me crazy?
"Please Mikey... just..." is all he can manage, reduced to a wreck of frustration, heat and emotion. Mikey nods slightly, leaning in to nibble his earlobe.
"Soon." He whispers.
That's the last thing he says, because now isn't the time for words. They've both been driven to the edge. Now they need to be pushed over it.
Mikey practically rips off his own jeans and boxers, tossing them aside without a care in the world for where they land, before setting to work on Ray's. The fucking button is always a pain to undo, his shaky fingers finding it difficult to even get the simplest task done in this state of mind. But he eventually succeeds. Need overcomes distraction.
He grips Ray through the thin material of his briefs before he tears them off, the proceeding whine music to ears while he reaches clumsily for the lube he left on the bedside table. The dark isn't his friend right now; he can't see a fucking thing. As each second passes, his frustration grows to a fever pitch – if only Ray could see inside his mind right now... the revenge would be so damn sweet.
When he succeeds, he quickly unscrews the cap, past caring how much he actually uses. With his head tossed back in a breathless moan he slicks himself up, the cold sensation sending shivers through his body.
He looks at Ray, and Ray looks back, his eyes wild, the sweat-soaked curls of his hair even wilder. That look is all he needs. All he needs to know that he has permission, that Ray's more than ready for this. Their communication is silent. Words are pointless, time-consuming.
All they need is instinct. Raw, animalistic instinct and the occasional fiery glance.
Permission granted, he trails two fingers down to Ray's ass, pressing inside and scissoring, preparing him for so much more. He can feel him tense at first, but gradually relax, rocking back against the intrusion. Mikey adds a third finger, feeling so much fucking need,so much impatience, barely holding himself back from just going all the way right this second.
"You ready for me, Ray?" he hisses – seeing Ray with his eyes closed, his back arched, so fucking helpless isn't making it any easier. It's only fuelling the fire inside him. It feels like a lifetime before he notices him nod, almost imperceptibly.
Fina-fucking-lly.
Ray moans at the loss of Mikey's fingers inside of him, only to find himself groaning much more loudly when he feels his cock take their place. Mikey's hands grip his shoulders as he thrusts into him lightly, experimentally, and all he can feel is that burning pleasure that sets all his senses alight. But even that isn't enough. He needs more. More. Enough to scramble his brain, make him go dizzy from a sensory overload.
He doesn't just need to be sent over the edge. He needs to be shoved over it with enough force to make him scream.
"Fucking... move... faster... you bastard..." Breathless grunts, the words forced from his chest with whatever strength he has left.
Mikey snaps his hips forward, struggling to keep control. "Are you sure you can handle it, bitch?"
"Do it."
Does he really need any other invitation?
He thrusts into him roughly, quickly, diving into attack his already bloodied lips with his own. Feels every moan, every whimper, each of Ray's struggles against his restraints. That's all this is. Feelings, sensations, noises, heat.
"Fuck, Ray... so tight. So fucking hot."
Ray groans gutturally, the sound reverberating throughout his entire body. Mikey hears it loud and clear, and god, the things it does to him shouldn't even be legal.
"Shit, those noises you're making... louder. Louder." He demands with another sharp snap of his hips, hitting Ray's prostate dead on and making him roar out in sheer ecstasy. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."
Sweet mother of fuck, Ray wants to be free from these ropes. Free to pull Mikey down to him, force him to fuck him harder, to be able to drag his nails down his back, anything. Everything. All at once, right here, right now.
Mikey knows how close he is. But it isn't over yet. No, it's far from over. He won't let this end on anything other than his terms.
"I need you to scream for me." He whispers into his ear, voice broken and barely understandable. Every thrust gets aimed directly at his prostate, and Mikey knows how badly it's driving him wild. It's reducing Ray to a hot mess, writhing beneath him. "Scream for me. Make sure the world knows whose bitch you are. Moan my name and I'll fuck you so hard, you'll see stars. You won't feel anything but me."
"Mikey..."
"Because you're mine."
"Fucking hell, MIKEY!" he screams just like he's told to, and Mikey's only too happy to fulfil his little promise. He pushes him down, nails digging in deep enough to draw blood, fucking him hard into the mattress. Each movement erratic, every thrust hastier and more desperate than the last.
"Who do you belong to, Ray?" he wraps a hand around his neglected cock, because if he's going over the edge, fuck knows he's taking Ray right there with him. "Whose bitch are you?"
"Yours! I'm... fucking... YOURS... fuck—" and that's the last thing he says, because now it's over, and he's coming hot and wet between them, and all that frustration, that teasing, the build-up, the waiting, the fucking, it's practically exploding from him, and all he can see is a blinding whiteness as he rides it out, screaming himself hoarse. Mikey watches Ray completely unravel beneath him, clenching tightly around his length, and fuck, fuck, fuck, he can't help but join him. He comes deep inside of him, the noise escaping his lips barely sounding human.
And then – a complete and utter collapse.
Reality filters back in slowly for the two of them. The afterglow blurs their vision; everything's out of focus. All that can be heard is the heavy pants escaping them. The tightness coiled in their stomachs has given away to post-coital bliss, with smiles spreading across their faces despite the mess, and despite the soreness they both know'll come later.
Though his limbs feel like lead, Mikey makes the effort to shift himself upwards and kiss Ray gently: the dominance he craved and felt has departed with the heat of the moment, leaving behind a tired, much more timid young man. "That was... amazing." He finally manages, trying to slow the thundering beat of his heart.
"And so fucking worth it."
"Yeah..."
"But you can untie me now."
He sighs dramatically. "That involves moving. Can't I just leave you there 'til tomorrow?"
"Not unless you want my hands to fall off when I sleep."
"That'd suck." Mikey admits, setting to work on the ropes. It's a lot harder than it looks when he's this tired, his usually skilled hands struggling with the knot. He succeeds in the end though, and Ray's first move is to wrap his freed arms around him.
Mikey can't help but notice the red skin left behind by his restraints. "That looks painful... 'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. This is the most fun I've had in a while. A few marks won't change that."
"That's good to hear." He yawns, feeling like he could pass out from exhaustion any moment now. "Y'know what else sounds good? Sleep."
Ray presses a kiss to his forehead, grunting his approval. "Too damn right." He lets Mikey snuggle up closer to him, finding it almost to believe that this is the same man that was fucking him into submission only minutes ago. Now's not really the time to think about that, though.
"Ray, I love you... don't forget that..." Mikey mutters before his breathing finally slows to an even, peaceful rate.
He smiles, feeling himself slip into the dark too. "And I love you..."
Sleep is all we really need now. It's gonna take a while to recover from THAT.