Title: Hollywood Nights
Pairing: Mike "The Miz" Mizanin and Alex Riley
Rating: M (not suitable for children!)
Summary: Mike and Alex spend quality time together after Summerslam. (m/m slash)
A/N: Would you believe I've been working on this fic since the morning after Summerslam 27? Welcome to the frustrating world of Writer's Block! It's awful having a story inside you but not being able to get the words out! But here it is. Just in time for Mizley Day!
A/N (2): Mizley + Bob Seger = Am I trying to overdose on Awesome?! Haha
Started: 8/18/2014
Finished: 5/23/2015
Enjoy!
The glitz and glamour of a Hollywood lifestyle may appeal to some, but not Alex Riley. Sure, he enjoys being part of something exclusive and inclusive, but having to wear a suit and make small talk isn't how he'd prefer to spend his night. Especially this particular night. Luckily for him, he just found out he won't have to stay at the Summerslam after-party for much longer.
The text he received from his boyfriend is intentionally impersonal and to the point: Park in the back and meet me inside. A quick glance is all that's required, yet Alex stares at his phone as if he's decoding a secret message. And, in some way, that's exactly what he's doing because he can't help detecting naughty innuendo beneath the surface. It makes him giggle. It makes him happy. And for a couple seconds he doesn't hide the way Mike makes him feel.
By the time he puts his phone away, he's composed and on alert again, subservient to the constant shackles of awareness. So as not to draw attention to himself, he deliberately waits thirty agonizing minutes after Mike and his wife, Maryse, leave the nightclub before he starts making his way through the star-studded crowd. Then he's gone. He's free; forsaking the burning lights of a superficial city in favor of a more genuine source of warmth. Before he knows it, he's skirting the edges of the Hollywood Hills and rounding the curves of the iconic Mulholland Drive. How surreal it would all seem, like he's starring in his own movie, but he hardly has time to let it register.
After parking his rental car, he enters Mike's house by way of the garage. The main source of light flooding a long hallway is coming from the kitchen, beckoning him, as is a faint noise. It makes his ears perk up and his heart swell. It's Mike's voice. Low and calm and so soothing. He follows the sound — a map; a lighthouse leading him ashore. He's been away from home for far too long. It's something that weighs on him daily, but once he reaches the kitchen and sees Mike again in a safe setting — not at some party or bustling arena, but being close to him in the privacy of his own home — he's reminded that everything he endures while they're apart is worth it.
Mike's no stranger to monopolizing a conversation, but the way in which he rambles on without interruption feels different to Alex this time. It's like he's trying to fill time, like he's trying to keep himself preoccupied so his mind doesn't wander to what's missing, to who he isn't talking to. Even in knowing this, Alex remains on standby, tucked in the corner of the dimmed doorway. So rare is the opportunity to see Mike relaxed with someone other than himself. And far rarer, it seems, is hearing him speak in person. The tone of his voice, the texture, the slight accent it holds. Alex takes in every timbre, every inflection as if he's hearing a song for the first time. Swaddled by the warmth of his most favorite sound, he looks Mike over, his eyes glistening in spite of himself. Is it possible for one man to be so beautiful? And even when dressed so casually. A pair of cargo shorts, a loose-fitting tee and flip-flops juxtapose his earlier appearance at the party, and yet, he's just as sexy. Although, if Alex is being completely honest, it really has nothing to do with Mike's fashion sense or the way he styles his hair. It's the balance of confidence and vulnerability; the aura he exudes. And his face… He watches Mike speak. Focuses on his mouth. There's something about the way it moves that drives him crazy. And those eyes… Is he remotely aware of how handsome he is? How could he not be?
Just then, Mike cocks his head in Alex's direction, as if he's been instructed to, and his speech fades, mid-sentence, mid-word, as he stares at Alex staring back at him. A smile blooms, mirroring the expression on his lover's face and with that, Alex can wait no longer.
With his arms stretched out, he rushes towards Mike and tightly secures him in a hug, lifting him off the ground, whirling him around — an embellishment that's largely influenced by a four week separation that has finally come to an end. The surprise spin triggers an airy laugh from both men, but their mouths quickly realize a greater need. They're drawn to one another by a magnetic force; a gravitational pull so great it would make the sun jealous. The audible excitement fades away as soon as their lips meet. They hold the connection as Mike anchors his feet to the floor. Stabilized; grounded. Every part of him — physically, mentally, emotionally. His life is complete once again.
Alex brings his hands up to hold Mike's face, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes that are glazing over with–
"Ahem…" The sound of a female forcefully clearing her throat is startling. Alex's eyes widen with fear, as if they've just been caught, but that panic quickly subsides. He recognizes the friendly voice. Can't believe how paranoid he can be sometimes. Feeling the heat sweep across his cheeks, he looks over to find Maryse watching them fondly. Her arms folded. Her knuckles grazing her chin. "Hi, Alex," she says with a growing smile.
"Hey," Alex simpers, the tension in his shoulders falling away. He's embarrassed by his overreaction, but mostly he's starting to titter from the way his boyfriend is nuzzling in close. Mike's kissing his neck, taking advantage of the moment. Maryse is the only person they don't have to hide their relationship from and it feels good not having to censor his every impulse for a change.
After a slight procrastination on her part —perhaps to admire the kind of love she hopes to find one day— Maryse collects her bag from the floor. "I'm going to the gym," she says, as if it wasn't already evident by her workout attire. "And I'll probably stop by the market on my way home." She sends the words over her shoulder in Alex's direction, a discreet wink in tow.
Alex tries to suppress a charming smirk, but it doesn't really work. "Thanks, Maryse."
Mike grins at Alex and grabs his hand. He only has one thing on his mind. "C'mon," he says with a tug and the two dash up the stairs.
The instant they pass under the threshold and into his bedroom, Mike rubberbands back to Alex. He isn't sure if it was his decision or if Alex did the work, but it really doesn't matter because he's finally able to kiss him the way he wants to, the way he's needed to, the way he's fantasized about all day, all month. The passionate kiss intensifies when Alex pulls him closer and grabs his ass with conviction.
Mike is quick to peel off Alex's jacket. It falls to the floor. His shirt next. No, a vest next. Too many layers, too many buttons, but Mike multi-tasks well and swiftly condemns the garment to the same wrinkled fate. But then, as he's pulling a pink tie from under a crisp, white collar, he has a momentary glimpse of himself changing not even an hour earlier. He wouldn't dare let his custom made suit touch the floor, let alone toss it in a crumpled heap, so there's no way he'll deny Alex the same courtesy; throes of passion be damned. "Hold that thought," he whispers against wet lips, punctuating the request with a sweet kiss.
He slinks down seductively, eyes locked on Alex's midnight blues, perfectly aware of his misdirection, of his teasing. It isn't until he's walking over to a leather armchair —after not having attended to any particular need— does Alex realize Mike's actual intentions. The caring, the consideration, it makes his chest ache. No one in his entire life has ever been so thoughtful, so selfless. He toes off his shoes, his socks, too, and empties his pockets, never once averting his gaze from the loving man who's neatly draping his clothes over the back of the chair. As Mike irons out the fabric with the flat of his hand, Alex takes off his watch and then his dress shirt. He steps closer to Mike and after handing it over, he holds his hips; presses his cheek to the side of his head. "I missed you."
The whisper reels Mike in. It's the words, it's the gentle warmth of them — nearly as warm as the man behind him. It's the fact that this man actually says it and means it. His eyes drift shut and he whimpers lightly in agreement. They stand motionless for a long moment, grateful to have time with each other at all, and then Mike finally turns around. It's the first time he's seen Alex shirtless in a month. It's a shame he has to re-familiarize himself with his boyfriend's body, but in no way is it a burden. He runs his eyes over the man's belly and chest, re-etching every ripple and groove of defined muscle into his memory. It all looks firmer, more pronounced now. And he knows the only reason he's able to notice the difference is because… He verges on the realization but veers back to the here and now. He feathers his fingers from wrist to elbow, and wrist to elbow. Traces Alex's triceps and the rounds of his shoulders up to hold his scruffy face. The man's nothing short of a masterpiece. Commission the sculptor, the painter, the poet and dare them to create anything more perfect. They could not. Of all the things Mike knows, this is what he's most sure of. That magnetic force overtakes him again and the kiss he succumbs to is slow, indulgent. Never should the desert wanderer, parched and burnt by the blazing sun, greedily gulp down his only life-source, but instead savor the sweet nourishment as it trickles over his cracked lips and tongue and down his bone-dry gullet. Every oasis, he's come to learn, is far and few between.
Alex wraps his arms around Mike, pressing their bodies against each other with purpose. He bends his knees slightly, positioning one of his legs between both of Mike's, and grinds his body upward. The deliberate contact is invigorating, triggering a groan and an ardent urge within Mike. One that he can't ignore. And more importantly, one that he doesn't have to ignore. Mike wedges his hands between their bellies and frantically paws at Alex's clattering belt, then unfastens his pants. He reaches behind the man and sinks his hands down into his underwear, kneading his full cheeks. Finally. He sends up a silent prayer of gratitude for being able to do exactly what he wants, when he wants.
Needing to feel skin, too, Alex rids Mike of his shirt. Kisses his shoulder and his chest. Takes off his shorts and steps out of his own fallen slacks. Mike breaks from the kiss, wants to be consistent, but this time Alex runs interference. "Nah uh," he counters, tugging the guy back to him. Mike concedes and haphazardly tosses the pair of pants hoping his aim is on point.
Hardly having half a mind to watch where they're going —kissing trumping all other concerns— the two shuffle towards the bed, only discovering it when Mike bumps into it. The mattress breaks, what could have otherwise been, a clumsy fall. He's unfazed and scoots to the center of the bed, parting his knees for his partner. Alex settles between inviting thighs; swears nothing in his life has ever felt more right. As if to acknowledge the unspoken sentiment, Mike wraps his legs around the guy's thick waist. A groan begs for more so he locks his legs together, pulling Alex down further. Loves the weight of the man on top of him. Loves the pressure. Loves feeling like he can't escape because he has no desire to. Alex runs his fingers through Mike's hair, cradling his head as they immerse themselves in a succulent kiss. It could easily last for hours, but hours are all they have.
Alex shifts to Mike's neck, claiming it, sucking gently so as not to cause a mark, though he desperately wishes he could. Unfortunately, there are certain restrictions he must adhere to and he knows why. But it's okay because the way Mike coos in response more than makes up for it. He sweeps his tongue across the man's throat, feeling the hardness of an Adam's apple and the vibration of a giggle. The tickle causes Mike to bring his hand up to hold Alex's face, but his attempt is thwarted. Alex pins Mike's wrist over his head instead and moves his affection to the underside of his arm. There, he kisses the soft flesh, breathes in his scent. "Oh, God, let me just smell you."
Mike rubs Alex's shoulder with his free hand, the pain in his voice proving all too familiar. And then something not so familiar. A jolt of energy, of electricity, surges through his system. Every muscle becomes tense as Alex laves his tongue over his armpit. Reflexively, he curls into the man, his belly quaking as he melts into the new sensation. It's a tickle that cascades over his whole body, making him yearn for that tongue in his mouth again, but it's no use. Alex is already nipping at his chest, suckling on rigid nipples, paying an equal amount of attention to each one before moving on. He kisses Mike's belly, pressing his face into pillowy flesh. Nuzzles into him as he inches lower and lower. Mike runs his hands through Alex's hair, moaning each time the man makes the slightest bit of contact with him through his underwear and gasping when he mouths him through the neon fabric. His mouth hot. Very hot.
He watches as Alex wriggles his fingers underneath the elastic band cinching his waist. A single tug reveals a milky skin tone that's never been kissed by the sun, yet still longs to be kissed, so Alex obliges. His sandpaper stubble feels rougher there than anywhere else, but Mike likes it. Feeling sensations he's not used to helps him cope with Alex's absence. When he's alone, pining for his lover, these little things, like growing out his beard and licking his armpit, offer him a sharper recollection of what they experience together. And these days, remembering every detail is more important than ever.
A couple more tugs and a couple more prickly kisses and Mike springs free. Fully exposed. Alex pushes himself to his knees, drinking in the sight of his partner's want for him, like he's just unearthed the world's greatest discovery. He loves these moments of intermission; drawing out the inevitable just a bit; watching Mike chew on his bottom lip, trying to figure out what he'll do next; watching the curiosity build up; daring the sexual tension to combust into actual flames. Quite often the idea of a supernova enters the realm of possibility. Though he has no wish to die, it's a death he regularly strives for.
Transfixed by the heavenly blue eyes staring up at him, Alex removes his own underwear, looking at his boyfriend like he could devour him, like he will devour him and the wait is almost unbearable for Mike. He squirms slightly, needing to grab himself, needing to answer his own debilitating call, but he resists the impulse. Vows that Alex will be the first thing he feels, not the stale, over-worked hand he's forced to rely on so often. Besides, it won't be much longer now, not with Alex mere inches away. Seeing the man's mouth in close proximity to him makes him even harder. The throbbing is intense, his whole body reverberating with a pounding beat. He drips with the thought of his boyfriend taking him into his mouth, a seeping desire that Alex can see for himself. He looks up to Mike as he licks the salty secretion from the tender tip. Teases the slit with his tongue making Mike shudder, his eyes flutter.
Alex is more than pleased by the reaction and wraps his hand around him, a feeling in and of itself that brings enormous relief to Mike. That larger, stronger hand that moves in ways he can't readily predict. Ah, like that. A twisting of the wrist, vertically; a corkscrew motion. A trained hand is soon joined by a hungry mouth. It's a fluid, practiced combination that's met with a melodic sound only Alex's ears have ever heard. But then Mike's released, spurring on a bout of disappointment, but only briefly because Alex's hand is quickly replaced by a more effective method.
It's not like it's never happened before, but Mike can't help watching in awe as he disappears inside of his boyfriend's mouth. Inch by inch, Alex plunges all the way down to the base causing Mike's body to seize. Hips jutting upwards, bedding twisting in clenched fists. His every nerve ending is encapsulated by warmth and wetness and a pulsating tongue that nudges him closer and closer to the edge. Alex, being fully aware of Mike's limits, lifts his head back up and right when it seems like he'll break the connection, he greedily follows the path down again with his tongue, willfully testing the man's tolerance. He swipes his tongue over his boyfriend's balls as a prelude of what's to follow, then glides up again, hardly beginning what he has elaborately planned when Mike chimes in. "Fuck me," he whines. "I don't want to come before you're inside of me."
Alex sits back on his heels, somewhat surprised, but the command is certainly not something he would ever refuse. "Okay. Let me get something," he says, already looking around.
"Forget that."
"Mike. It's been a month."
"Ummm…" Mike shakes his head, desperately trying to shake out a coherent thought. "It's in the nightstand."
Having a clear directive, Alex pushes himself forward and crawls towards the side of the bed.
Mike takes a beat to center himself and when he opens his eyes, he finds Alex above him, hovering, dangling, unknowingly tempting him to reroute their intended course. Instantly salivating at the sight, he's hardly able to turn down such a proposition, so he puts his saliva to good use. There's a hitch in Alex's breath that he quite likes and would like to hear again, so he pouts and draws in a breath of his own; long and controlled, breathing in more than just air. One at a time, he likes to pretend he's polishing pearls. His partner is overcome with a heaviness, his body wanting to pull him down, but Mike doesn't need to be told, he already knows the feeling. And he knows exactly what ought to be done next, so with his exceedingly wet tongue, he follows the path of a thrumming vein, making the guy wince, he's so swollen. Tortures him further by flicking it against the underside of a prominent ridge.
"It's not here," Alex wheezes, his voice cracking on the last syllable, breaking it in half — Mike having taken him all the way into his mouth.
Unwilling to be rushed with his response, Mike takes his time, pulling away with a slurping smack. "My mistake." He licks the inside of Alex's thigh and then tells him to try the other one.
Alex smiles to himself and wastes no time turning around. He crawls to the other side of the bed, still on all fours, still accessible to his lover who repositions himself so he's able to do what he wants comfortably. And what he wants to do is kiss his most favorite part of Alex's body and Alex knows it. Been told countless times just how sexy his backside is, and shown more than that, like he is right now. Mike suckles and gnaws on soft, padded flesh. Swipes his tongue between dense cheeks. Alex grunts. A stiffened elbow wobbles. It's been too long. The hand holding the bottle of lubricant he finally found hits the mattress with a driving force. Knows from experience he's going to need the extra support. Mike grabs the man's penis and brings it back towards himself. Services the underside from tip to base, revisits his balls and then he reaches a taut gathering of tender flesh. He laps his tongue on this spot causing Alex to bow his head to the bed, his breathing quickening right on cue. Empowered by his role, he grabs Alex by the thighs and pulls him closer, removing any remaining barrier between them. Using nothing other than his tongue, he elicits a long, low drone of ecstasy from his partner.
He relishes the fact that he can make Alex feel so good, but he doesn't want the guy to finish before they begin. Not that beginning again would be so bad, he just wants their first time in what feels like forever, to be together. It's the idealist in him. So, in his pursuit, he flips Alex over onto his back, and mounts him just south of his waist. Their eyes lock instantly, as if they're programmed to always find each other. Mike admires the beautiful man he seldom sees, storing away every detail for all the lonely nights ahead of him. He doesn't even realize this is what he's doing — the process being completely second nature at this point. After having fully taken in the intimate moment, he leans down to kiss his boyfriend. And when he goes to sit up, he's conveniently grabbed the bottle of lubricant lying beside him. He squeezes a generous amount into his hand, already starting to rock his hips slowly, effectively. Rubs the cool gel between his palms, warming it up, and then grabs both himself and his lover, one in each hand so they feel the same thing at the same time.
"Let me," Alex says, wanting to take care of Mike as he takes care of him.
Mike just shakes his head and with an endearing smile he exhales, "I got you."
Alex surrenders. His lover's technique makes him feel like he's slipping in and out of consciousness, in and out of the corporeal world. It makes him feel like his whole body could melt and become one with Mike. Damn, if it only would. "I like that," he says, naturally synchronizing each breath to each hypnotic stroke.
"I can tell." Positively sated by the serene smile Alex is wearing, Mike continues the sensual fondling, rotating his hands each time they change direction. After a considerable slathering, he takes both of them into his dominate hand, rubbing them against each other, heightening the sensation and his own excitement. There's something about their combined erections that he finds as fascinating as he does arousing. He leans down to kiss Alex again, moving his body so they have the kind of friction they need.
Alex wraps his arms around Mike, raking his fingertips across his back and down as far as his arms allow. "You feel so good," he murmurs between kisses. Reaching down between their bellies, he pumps Mike a couple times, collecting the excess coating and then reaches behind the guy, and under him. He rubs an ultra sensitive strip of skin firm enough to make Mike purr. He's tempted to linger there a bit longer, but drags his hand up several times instead, leaving gel from each finger in the specific area it's designed for. He rubs right there, the tip of his middle finger asking permission for a privilege that's been granted long ago, and then he does what only he's allowed to do.
A slow rhythm escalates to the point where Mike ends up rocking back into his hand, voicing his pleasure into his mouth as if it were enough, but Alex knows it's not. Rather than replacing his hand with something far more favorable, he retreats entirely, moving both hands to Mike's hips. The sudden deprivation causes Mike to break from their kiss. It's then that he realizes his desperate need for air.
Alex kisses his lover's temple and his ear. "Sit up," he whispers.
Mike looks at him, their noses touching. With all his panting, he's not sure what the guy had said.
"Let me watch you."
With that, the first part of Alex's request manages to filter through and Mike understands exactly what's being asked of him…and the reason for it. With his eyes glued to the darkened ones before him, he presses his lips to his lover's mouth, once, twice, and then complies.
He looks down to Alex's erection. The task at hand seems rather impossible when he actually thinks about it. But he reminds himself that he's done this before. Many times... Just not recently. He raises himself to his knees, scooting forward just a bit and reaches behind himself. One hand placed on Alex's chest to steady himself, the other holding Alex steady so they're aligned with one another. Slowly, he allows himself a chance to adjust to something he should already be adjusted to. In another life, in another time, there'd be no need for this extra step. This delay. This hindrance which is definitely not of his choosing. But rather, it exists out of necessity, and knowing the reason why takes him out of the moment and into his own cluttered headspace. The discomfort shines a spotlight on the reality of their situation. Fucking is a rarity these days. Not by choice, but by circumstance. A circumstance he's partly responsible for. He closes his eyes trying to push away these unwelcome thoughts and wiggles his resistant body, wanting desperately to fit with his partner again.
Alex watches Mike, but this isn't exactly what he had in mind. "You okay?" he asks softly, holding onto the hand Mike is pressing to his chest.
Mike nods, his eyes sealed shut, deep in concentration. The air around him is muddled and tangled, like thick ropey vines in an overgrown garden he's gotten lost in. "Yeah."
An answer, but not the truth. Alex wonders if Mike had even really heard him because it's not like him to lie. Not to him. "Mike…"
Mike catches his breath.
His name– Not his name, but the sweet voice that carried it, snatches him out of the maddening underbrush and everything becomes still and calm when their eyes meet. A peaceful silence, a comforting understanding. How does Alex say so much without saying anything at all? He releases the breath he'd been holding and the tension commandeering his body melts away.
He can feel Alex inside of him. Everything around him is amplified. He can feel and hear his own heartbeat as if it were being broadcast over a loud speaker. And he can hear every breath Alex takes. The air is comprised of exactly two distinct scents, yet they blend together so perfectly he's compelled to identify it as only one. This dichotomy of thought seems quite profound to him in the moment and he's convinced he's just discovered a new way of seeing the world; as if color has just been introduced into a previously limited spectrum of light. Each time he breathes in this aroma, he presses his palms to Alex's belly and his whole body rises above his man. And each time he exhales, his body sinks down and around him. That feeling of fullness, of complete connectivity to the one person he desires is intoxicating. His jaw slackens. His cheeks become flushed, shimmering with a certain shade of pink, Alex has noticed, that is only ever associated with this level of intimacy. If anyone ever asks him what his favorite color is, this is the color he'll think of, but he'll never say it because it belongs to him and no one else.
Alex grabs Mike in his fist and the way the guy smiles prompts his hips to twitch. It doesn't take much time before the innocent twitch evolves into a full-blown thrust which forces the air from Mike's lungs and causes his lashes to flutter erratically. His response ensures repetition until he finds himself motionless, almost numbed by the enjoyment, of the movement under him, into him, and grasping him. His palms, slippery from sweat, slide off Alex's belly and land on the bed. He hunches over, his arms trembling, his triceps tingling. The slapping of their sweaty thighs, that unmistakable percussion of sex, saturates the air. Though he longs for the day when he and his lover will have no choice but to stifle their cries of satisfaction, he has no problem taking advantage of the freedom they currently have. Without a shred of inhibition, he articulates his pleasure in a way no words ever could. It exhilarates and motivates Alex and he clutches Mike's ass in both of his hands forcing the brunt of the guy's weight to shift to his forearms. Their mouths are so close to one another now it would be sinful not to kiss, so they do.
When Mike eventually pulls away, Alex sits up and cups his cheeks. Rubs his thumbs over them, foolishly wishing he could steal some of the secret stain, and when he realizes he can't, he redirects his focus back to a pair of quivering lips.
Mike places his hands on Alex's thighs and rolls his hips in correlation with the rolling of his tongue. His rhythm has a tranquil plateauing effect that nullifies time until Alex grabs him in his fist again. If it hadn't been for that, he wonders if he would have been able to carry on indefinitely. But now he'll never know and the way Alex is stroking him makes him forget he ever wanted to. He brings his hand up to his face, holds onto Alex's wrist and stares into his eyes. "I'm gonna come," he sputters, and all at once, it becomes too much. He bucks his hips forward and does just as he had said, all over Alex's chest.
The warmth spilling over his nipples, dripping down his stomach and pooling into his bellybutton is a sensation Alex deems quite erotic. He wouldn't mind living in this moment a bit longer, but all that along with the look of absolute bliss shining on Mike's face is more than enough to send him hurtling through the cosmos in search of his ever-elusive supernova. His toes splay as he falls back to the mattress, experiencing an explosion that feels very much the opposite of death and in this moment no one could convince him that he didn't find exactly what he was searching for.
He lifts his hips up and down, up and down. When he's certain he's been milked of every drop, he lazily gazes up to Mike. Finds him bracing himself with what little strength he has left as he tries to catch his breath. But that won't do. He grabs the guy, knowing how sensitive he must be and sure enough, his touch sends a tremor throughout his entire body. Reveling in the aftershocks, he does it once more, this time in conjunction with a powerful thrust, and again, Mike's body quakes and his wobbling arm finally gives out. He topples over, just as Alex hoped he would and laughs breathlessly. Even through his exhaustion, he still manages to nibble on Alex's jaw line and his collarbone before burrowing his face into a warm neck. "I love you."
Alex clutches Mike's jaw, assertively tilts his mouth up to his own and kisses him until Mike has nothing left to give. Completely spent, the guy drops his cheek to a solid shoulder.
"I love you, too," Alex chuckles, pressing his lips to Mike's forehead.
After a couple minutes of much-needed recovery, Mike props himself up by his elbow and dips one of his fingers into the creamy mess covering his lover's chest and then brings a sample up. He watches as Alex tastes him. "This is how we should start and end every day," he sighs, dragging his finger from inside Alex's mouth and replacing it with his own mouth. He kisses him leisurely and then transfers his affection to his cheek and neck. How simple it would be to just fall asleep right there, but time would pass all too quickly and Mike has no interest in that. "You wanna take a bath?"
Alex hums in the affirmative. Not only does he like the idea, but he loves the way Mike's breath is feathering against his skin.
Mike nuzzles into Alex a little more. "You really like it when I do this, don't you? I noticed how it made you feel earlier in the kitchen."
"I love being close to you."
"Well, then," Mike says, rolling out of bed and taking Alex by the hand. "Come be close to me."
He leads Alex into his bathroom and immediately goes to the tub and draws a bath. Even adds one of his favorite oil infused salts to make it extra special. It's not something he's ever talked to Alex about, but he knows the guy well enough to know he doesn't soak in a bath by himself when he's at home, so this is something special they can do together.
As the tub is filling up, the pair rinse with mouthwash and then Mike takes it upon himself to clean off his boyfriend with a dampened washcloth. He runs his covered hand along the contours of Alex's muscles and down between his legs, all the while, spellbound by the steady rise and fall of the man's chest. He yearns to live his life by a similar metronomic pace. Never rushed, never hesitating. Just calm and always moving forward.
After adopting the same cadence in his own breathing, he runs the cloth under the warm water, preparing it for himself, but Alex would rather return the favor. Wouldn't want to waste an opportunity to touch his boyfriend anyway. He moves in and gently wipes him clean. Both men lose the rhythm in their breath — the sex-adjacent intimacy knocking them off-kilter. The tension Alex likes to facilitate is in full-force, especially when he pulls Mike into him. He reaches around him and when he wedges his hand underneath him, the contact causes Mike to stumble forward and clutch onto him so he doesn't fall. Alex drags his hands upward, forcing Mike so close their lips brush passed one another in a kissless kiss.
Mike searches Alex's eyes painfully. "Don't make me have to say it this time," he whispers.
Alex leans in a little more, but doesn't follow through. Steps away instead. Mike is confused, but that confusion wanes when he realizes Alex is only tossing the washcloth in the hamper and turning off the water. And if he's turning off the water, that means– Mike lights up as Alex quickly closes the gap and pulls him into a passionate kiss. Every ounce of desire and carnal craving he had for the man before, consumes him with the same insatiable intensity. But it's different. It's not out of a need to make up for lost time. It feels fresh, it feels new, it feels like stepping out of the constant loop they're stuck in. It feels like progress. But Mike doesn't know that. All he knows is how good it feels to have his needs and wants reciprocated.
Mid-kiss, Alex spins his partner around and Mike braces himself on the edge of the counter. Watches Alex through the mirror as he spits into his hand and he doesn't see what happens next, but he sure as hell feels it. Alex takes Mike by the hips, kisses his shoulder blades and Mike can't help but cock his head to the side and watch from the vantage point the mirror on the far wall provides. Another vivid image to hold onto. He reaches back to squeeze Alex's ass, feel him flex with each thrust and then he arches back to kiss him. His head rolls back on Alex's shoulder and he's once again captivated by the naked reflections mounted on the wall. He can't help but think how good they move together. It's one thing to feel it, but to see it? He's not sure why they haven't done this sooner. He tries to keep his focus on the two other men in the room, detach himself from the situation so he can hold on longer, but it's such a goddamned turn-on, he's forced to watch the ending through disobedient eyelids.
"Holy shit," he breathes, feeling light-headed. His body tingles and trembles and he's thankful Alex is there. Holding him upright in his strong arms, supporting him against his solid frame. He wets his lips and turns his cheek towards the man. "You're the best fuck," he says with an airy chuckle and a kiss to a scruffy cheek.
"I have the best partner," Alex growls, feeling Mike's teeth scrape against him. He slides his hands up Mike's belly and chest. So wet. "We're definitely gonna need something bigger than a washcloth this time."
And Alex is right. They were quite sloppy.
As soon as they clean themselves up again and make sure the tub is filled to the desired level and temperature, Alex climbs in. Mike, being the romantic that he is, lights a few candles, creating an ambiance that feels as warm and inviting as his partner's arms.
Alex brings his hands to Mike's head, runs them through his hair. Chuckles to himself when he realizes he's styled it into a faux hawk. It reminds him of when they first met and of that first year they spent together — the year they fell in love. If he had known then what he knows now, there's no way he would've waited so long to kiss him.
He scrambles Mike's hair and massages his scalp instead. Knows he shouldn't concern himself with things he can't change. He massages his shoulders and works his way down his arms. Threads his fingers through Mike's, which are noticeably slender in comparison. "I love these hands," he says, admiring the one he's displaying against his own. He brings it to his mouth and kisses Mike's knuckles. "You're so beautiful," he whispers.
Mike is nearly lulled to sleep as Alex runs his hands over his body, telling him how much he adores him and how he'd dedicate whole days to specific areas of his body if he could. "Where would you start?" he asks lethargically, mostly so he's assured Alex will keep talking.
"Your feet."
Mike snorts, he's definitely awake now. "My feet?!" He turns to face Alex and flirtatiously rubs his nose against his boyfriend's nose. "Really?"
Alex cocks an eyebrow and nods. "I'd work my way up from there."
Mike smirks playfully and moves to the other side of the tub so Alex can get started. Even holds his foot up to him for an easy reach. Alex takes hold of it in both of his hands and presses his thumbs to the center of his arch, fans out from there, working his way up to Mike's toes and then back down to his heel. He does this to both feet, treating them as if they're the most important part of Mike's body and at this moment, that's exactly what they are. He kisses them, not only wanting to express the sentiment to Mike, but to see the way he smiles and laughs because of it. He cradles Mike's heel in one hand and proceeds to rub his ankle with the other, but then it occurs to him that he can't do that just yet. He has to save Mike's ankles for tomorrow.
Tomorrow…
Alex drops his gaze, feels like he's just been sucker punched. The reality is, there is no tomorrow because he'll be leaving in the morning.
"You know where I'd start?"
Alex raises his eyebrows half-heartedly, but not his eyes. They remained fixated on nothing. "Hmmm?"
Mike delicately pulls his foot from Alex's hands, dips it under the water and rubs his thigh. "Come here and find out," he teases, but Alex remains unaffected.
"Babe…" Mike studies Alex's expression, it looks like he's a million miles away. He extends his hand, reaching for Alex's leg. "Come here," he begs.
Alex looks up. Unable to refuse Mike, and needing to be near him while he's physically able, he moves to the other side of the tub and settles against Mike's chest.
Mike brings his hands up and rubs Alex's head. "I love you," he whispers.
Alex closes his eyes, wraps Mike's arm over his chest and holds onto his forearm. "I love you," he echoes with an aching sincerity.
Mike traces the features of Alex's face with his fingertips, wanting to make the guy feel as relaxed and happy as he's been made to feel. He does this for as long as the water will allow. And when the warmth finally runs its course, they get out and dry off.
With only a towel wrapped around his waist, Alex walks over to where his clothes are. Or, rather, where he thinks his clothes are. "Shit," he exclaims, running a hand through his hair. "I left my suitcase in the car."
Already halfway dressed himself, Mike walks up behind Alex, places his hands on his hips. "I'll get it, babe."
"You sure?"
"Of course," Mike says, pecking Alex on the shoulder and then heads downstairs with an added spring in his step. When he returns, he pauses in the doorway, watching Alex straightening the fresh comforter he's switched out for the used one. He smiles to himself and then heads in. Situates Alex's suitcase by the leather armchair and places his keys back where he had found them. "I brought up a few drinks if you're thirsty," he says, setting the bottles on the nightstand.
"I hope you don't mind," Alex says, motioning to the bed.
"Not at all. That's exactly why I took it out."
"I also hung my suit up in your closet-"
"Alex." Mike looks up to the guy through his lashes and flashes him a sweet smile.
Alex purses his lips together, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Right."
Mike sits on the bed, bounces a few times to get comfortable and watches Alex sift through his clothes looking for a pair of underwear. His cheeks heat up when Alex removes his towel and he can hardly contain his smile. Sitting there, grinning like a fool, loving that he's allowed to stare all he wants at the most perfect ass he's ever seen. He's about to comment on it, but then it's gone. Hidden away. His smile disappearing along with it. Out of nowhere, he feels as if he's just smashed into a wall and a panic sets in. "Alex?"
The worry in Mike's voice is all too concerning, so Alex turns to his boyfriend. Finds him looking rather peaked all of a sudden.
"I noticed it in the tub," Mike says. His chin is quivering and his body is agitated, as if he's entering a type of withdrawal phase. "You got distant and sad. I knew what it was, but I didn't want to acknowledge it, so I pushed it back." Mike looks down to his lap, feeling ashamed for ignoring what he recognized in Alex.
Alex is bewildered. He's not sure what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He wasn't in the mood to talk to begin with. But Mike is.
"When you fucked me in there, I think it was the first time in a really long time that I wasn't expecting it to happen. I felt this sense of spontaneity that you and I never get to experience and I let myself live in that bubble. And it felt really fucking good pretending like we were normal for a change. But now you're getting dressed and…" Mike feels numb for a moment, feeling the words before he says them. Seeing the scene he's seen too many times. "…I already see you driving away. And every time I tell myself nothing matters but right now. He's here. He's with you. But no matter what I do, I always spend half the night trying to make up for all the time we miss out on together and the other half dreading tomorrow because tomorrow is always right there. And there's the not knowing how long it'll be before we see each other again. And even when we do know…" Mike grits his teeth, sucking in air and then grabs his chest to emphasize the pain. "It's suffocating!"
He pauses for a moment, looking up to Alex, thinking about the night they've shared together.
"I've never jumped out of a plane before, but I imagine it feels like I do when I'm with you. There's this moment right there in the middle-" Mike holds his hands out in front of him, stiff and straight, trying to physically represent the space he's describing, "that separates me regretting the past and dreading the future, where I'm in that bubble." His hands appear to grasp an imaginary ball and he becomes overjoyed, appearing to be almost manic. "That's when I jump. It's this exhilarating freedom. It's just air. Filling my lungs. It's more air than I could ever need and I'm flying so high." He stops, his face falling dramatically. "But the flying isn't flying, is it? The flying is falling. I can see the ground. That solid wall that won't move.
"Fucking move!" he screams. "It doesn't even care that I'm about to crash into it." It's then that he looks up to Alex, with hopeless desperation, his eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. One flinch and they'll overflow. "You always have to leave. And nothing ever changes. I don't want you to feel like you need permission to hang your clothes in my closet or to make the fucking bed!" Mike grabs his head, feeling dizzy, breathing hard. "This isn't right. I couldn't even talk to you at the club tonight. Isn't that the whole reason why I married her?! So we could be seen together and spend time together?! But instead it's-"
Alex rushes to Mike and falls to his knees, holding his over-heated face in his hot hands. "Hey… I know. I know," he says, his eyes welling up. He tried to cut himself off, emotionally remove himself from the situation, be ready to leave when the time came, because having to leave in the morning becomes more unbearable each time. If the pain he's endured in recent months is any indicator, he knew he was in for a hellish goodbye. And here's the pain he was trying to avoid, looking him right in the face. He kisses Mike, wishing he could absorb it all and then wipes the tears from the guy's face the best he can.
"I want this," Mike sobs, placing his hand at the center of Alex's chest. "I want this for the rest of my life. When I saw you tonight without your shirt on I couldn't believe it was all for me."
"It is. All of it."
"I thought I was being brave and mature, but I can't live like this anymore. We have to do better," Mike nods, trying to coax a reflexive nod out of Alex. "We have to see each other more often. At least once a week."
Alex brings Mike's forehead to his own. The anxiety-riddled knot plaguing his stomach unravels. "Yes," he breathes.
Mike looks to Alex and takes a deep breath. Falls back on the bed with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "I don't think I really knew I was holding all that in."
Alex collapses next to Mike, his legs hanging off the bed. He looks over just as Mike starts to yawn. "C'mon," he nudges. "Let's go to sleep. And in the morning I'll make you some tea and pancakes. Been working on a new recipe just for you."
Mike looks over to Alex and caresses his cheek. "You have?"
"Pumpkin Spice."
"That's so sweet, babe, but I don't think I have the ingredients you'll need for that."
"It's all been taken care of. I asked Maryse to pick up a few things for me tonight."
"Oh, really?!" Mike says, overly surprised. "So, the two of you were in cahoots, huh?"
Alex chuckles and gets up to turn off the lights. "Come here," he says, signaling his boyfriend to follow him to the top of the bed. Mike does just that and they curl up together; Alex molding his body to Mike's, holding him close.
"Tomorrow morning, I'm gonna kiss your shoulder and your neck, like this, and whisper the dumbest shit in your ear until you wake up." Alex pauses, nibbles on Mike's ear as he listens to the man giggle. Loves the way he squirms into him and never away from him. "And then I'm gonna make love to you. And after a long, hot shower, we'll go downstairs and make pancakes. I haven't quite figured out how much cinnamon to use yet, so you can help me with that, if you want."
"Yeah," Mike breathes.
"But what we're not going to do tomorrow is be sad. There's no need for that anymore." Alex's closes his eyes and feels comforted. It wasn't his intention, but it turns out his words were directed towards himself just as much as they were to Mike. "See you in the morning, my love," he whispers.
Mike grabs Alex's hand and brings it up to his mouth. Kisses it as his eyes drift shut. He hadn't planned on sleeping at all while he was with him, but now that he thinks about it, sleeping in the arms of the man he loves is the most normal thing they could do together. "Thank you."
Alex hears the two words carried by way of his boyfriend's breath. He isn't entirely convinced Mike's gratitude is meant for him and he'd rather it wasn't anyway.
**I honestly can't believe I finally finished this! I'm soooo excited! :)) Fun fact: I literally wrote this whole story because I wanted Alex to make Mike Pumpkin Spice Pancakes! All of this only exists because of a couple of sentences at the end that most people won't even care about LOL
**Thank you so so much for reading. I hope you liked this one. Feedback is always welcomed! I'm planning on writing a book soon, so any kind of comments/constructive criticism regarding my style or whatever would be appreciated. I don't really get any of it these days so I honestly have no idea if these stories are connecting or falling flat. Also, if you read this story because you love Mizley and miss them like I do, be sure to check out my montages on YT if you haven't already. These two are fucking magic! (YT Channel: xxmaej26xx)
******PLEASE TELL ME IF I'VE MADE ANY SPELLING MISTAKES!******
Leave me a comment, send me a PM or a tweet. Just please let me know about them!
**If you've been following my fics, you might recall me teasing about a new one in the notes of "White and Gold." This fic is not it, so that means there's another one on the way. It's going to be pretty in depth but I absolutely have to get it out of my system before I can start planning my book. It would be way too hectic in my head otherwise. Wish me luck because I originally wanted to post that one for Mizley Day.
**To the anonymous person who left that wonderful comment on Royal Blunder — THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS! I had a great idea for a Mizley/Damien Mizdow fic, but since they broke up, I am in no way inspired enough to write it. I'm so sorry about that. I wish I was a more flexible writer, but unfortunately, I'm not :( I'm super flattered that you requested it though.