"You may be pretty. But I don't bottom." Kavinsky gave Ronan's left cheek two sarcastic pats.
Ronan wanted to step back but he knew he couldn't even though his skin felt itchy where K had touched him and where he looked, his eyes moving behind tinted glass. He held his ground even though it felt like something was clawing at his stomach.
"You'll bottom, and you'll like it." Ronan growled, pushing forward with his body until K was flat against the peeling posters on the grimy wall. This felt wrong, so wrong but he only knew how to crush his lips against K's, fighting with teeth and lips and tongue instead of words and looks and burning rubber.
K's thin body writhed under Ronan as he ground his hips against K's bonier ones. Ronan's left hand wandered down and into the taller boys' pants. Hastily, he started to jerk him off and K's head fell back with a sharp crack against the wall. Ronan rubbed K's head with this thumb and soon he was cumming into Ronan's fist, mouth slack and breath heavy. Ronan rubbed at the oversensitive appendage several more times before pulling his hand out of K's pants.
"Fuck. Fuck." Kavinsky swore. Ronan examined his hand in the dim light and then gave it an experimental lick, not being able to decide if the salty-bitter flavor was something he could get used to- or wanted to. "Jesus. I knew that Catholic mouth could do something productive."
Ronan shoved K's jeans down just enough and turned him. He hitched him up against the wall, rutting against Kavinskys' bare ass. He spit on his hand- mixing with the leftover spunk- and rubbed at the twitching hole, pushing a finger in quickly and the drawing away until K was pushing back onto his thick digits. In a second, he was pounding into the Bulgarian, one hand wrapped loosely around K's limp cock, milking it.
Kavinsky's body twitched violently against Ronan who was snapping his hips at a breathtaking pace. Ronan pulled out and shoved him to the ground. K gave a disgruntled, "fuckin' hell." as his knees hit the pavement. Ronan came down on him like a bird of prey, lining up and going back at it, the sound falling from K's lips like the Holy Scripture to his ears.
"Breed him!" Someone called from the other end of the alley and Ronan faltered for a minute before he came with a grunt. He pulled out and watched as cum dribbled out of Kavinsky's hole. Ronan pushed his thumb against it, pushing his seed back into the waifish boy. K pulled away from him, groaning as he yanked his pants back up and straighten his shirt from where it had been pushed up around his neck.
He looked down at Ronan who had fallen back on his heels, lit by the moon, looking up at Kavinsky, lost. K lit a cig, took a long inhale and flicked ash at the fighter still on his knees. "Well it's been real." Kavinsky turned and started to walk away, acutely aware of Ronan's eyes on the burning cig and the cum dripping down his thighs.