Tall street lights glowed a soft yellow, and illuminated the rain splattering on the concrete pavement outside the house at the end of the street. Every window in the house was dark but for the shine of white light peeking out from the gap in hastily drawn curtains in the roof conversion, where Marco Bodt normally slept.
Or on this night, where Marco Bodt was about to be railed through the mattress by his boyfriend, whilst they pretended to be asleep.
It certainly wasn't their first time, nor was it the second, nor the third, nor the tenth, nor even what Marco suspected could be twentieth. It wasn't even the first time that they'd done it in a potentially embarrassing place, if they were caught (Jean's exhibitionist tendencies had made sure of that). But it was the first time that they'd felt the need to muffle the noises that they, although especially Marco, made together.
The bedroom was washed in the light from a small bedside lamp, but the two boys were hidden in shadows, moving slowly and carefully to prevent the bed springs from squeaking under their combined weight.
Laying atop his duvet, Marco screwed his eyes shut and exhaled sharply, knuckles white where they were clenched tight into the sheets. He tipped his head back against the pillow as Jean eased one slick finger into him, slow and gorgeous and his presence a warm, comforting weight above him. A loud moan escaped from between his lips, his lower lip pulled taut by his teeth, and Jean stopped moving, eyes wide.
"Marco! You said you could stay quiet." He whispered, mouth barely an inch from Marco's ear. With a single, quick crook of his finger, he forced Marco's back into an arch, hips raised high off the bed and toes curling. Swallowing, Marco tried to steady his voice before speaking.
"I... I can't. You... ungh... You feel so good..." Another twist, and Marco's body was on fire, burning him from inside out.
"I know, I know, but you have to try, baby, you're being too loud." Jean's frustrated hiss wasn't nearly as effective as he wanted as he added another finger on his final word, and really, Marco couldn't concentrate on listening to sentences when his whole lower body throbbed and ached as it did.
"Hu- Ugh...?" He opened his eyes, squinting up at Jean's face. Jean stuck out his tongue. Marco repressed the urge to suck it.
"You. Have. To. Be. Quiet." He punctuated each word with a bite to Marco's neck , moving closer and closer to his jaw line until Marco's breath was racing and its every hitch sounded like a whine.
"I- I know, bu-ut I can't help- Oh Jesus, there, Jean, there!" He twisted and dug his heels into the bed, attempting to grind up harder into those pretty, pretty fingers.
Jean huffed, blowing his damp fringe out of his eyes. "Yeah, okay, but seriously, shut up! Your dad's just downstairs and I don't want him finding me with my dick up your butt."
Marco pouted and ran one hand through the longer, blond strands of Jean's hair, tugging at the ends. The small intake of breath it caused was almost unnoticeable, but Marco heard it like it was a gunshot in a theatre.
"Oh, but Jean," he crooned, "It's really not me that normally can't keep my mouth shut, is it?"
Jean's eyes were dark.
"If you dare, Freckles-"
Marco bit his lip and yanked his hand towards his chest, pulling Jean's head down by his hair. His fingers slipped out of Marco but the low, guttural moan Jean made more than made up for the fact. When Jean looked back up, he raised an eyebrow and flickered his gaze down Marco's body, stroking his hand down Marco's lower stomach. Jean moved up until Marco's hand was only resting in his hair and whispered his words millimetres from Marco's lips.
"You- You dick, you know what that does to me- fuck, Marco!" Marco grinned, tugging lightly on Jean's hair again. With a gasp, he ripped himself away from Marco's grip and covered Marco's mouth with one hand, the other pressing hard where it laid just above Marco's cock.
The pressure ripped a fractured, frustrated moan out of Marco, muffled by Jean's hand.
"Do you want me to gag you?" Jean whispered, "Tie you up, stop you uttering any noise that anyone other than I can hear?"
They'd spoken about this sort of thing before, usually in the afterglow of spectacular sex, laying side by side and talking facing the ceiling. They'd mentioned how Jean liked his hair pulled and his back scratched and his lips bitten, how Marco liked to be pinned down and spoken dirty to and fucked raw.
Marco nodded and breathed out a "Yes" from between loose fingers on his lips.
With a grin, Jean climbed off the bed, ass swinging and back muscles flexing in a powerful dance, thrown into sharp relief by the lamp light. He rummaged around in Marco's desk for an old school tie, hair standing up every which way and the marks Marco's nails and mouth had left over his back and neck appearing raised and pink.
Swallowing, Marco looked up at the ceiling and grinned. He had the feeling that this was going to be his greatest orgasm ever.
AN - So this was the first entry for Bottom Bodt week, and it isn't technically explicit?