It had been an amazing, if not exhausting, month.

Sorey and Mikleo were fresh from their most recent dig in Central Asia – well, fresh enough; they'd gotten off the sixteen-hour flight smelling and looking of death, and a warm shower and bath had done wonders to revive them from under the layers of sweat and grime. But it was not just any other dig: it was their final dig before their doctorate theses. No longer would they have to play babysitter to Uncle Michael's graduate school interns, no longer would they have to play babysitter to Uncle Michael himself. (Mikleo, however, would remain babysitter evermore to Sorey – he had long since accepted this.)

They were soon to be free agents, ready to explore the world, pick fights with other archaeologists in passive-aggressive essay rebuttals, and threaten nosy tourists poking around their dig sites with ancient curses.

(Mikleo had to be honest, they already did the second one. They just would soon have a doctorate title to stick next to their names to make the braindead morons stop brushing off their arguments.)

(Mikleo had to be honest again, they also already did the third one. Nothing made Hawaiian-shirted tourists and their sticky-fingered little brats flee a site faster than direly informing them that they've awoken a mummy's curse by trying to pocket that priceless ancient tile shard as a souvenir.)

Before getting started on the final draft of their thesis, however, Sorey and Mikleo had some downtime to recover and rest their aching bones. They'd been fantasizing about this long weekend for days – nothing but documentaries, their reading backlog, and each other. Mikleo could think of little better. He tucked himself more comfortably into the crook of Sorey's arm, vaguely listening to the documentary in the background (something about manatees?), barely focusing on the writing on the page in front of him, and just about ready to succumb to his fourth nap within forty-eight hours.

Sorey's lips brushed against his forehead, and Mikleo grumbled a little. He cracked open one eye to glower at him.

Sorey's grin said it all. Mikleo braced himself.

"If I was a manatee, and it was just you and me," Sorey began to rhyme out. "We would roll about the sandy seas, fat and happy and very very frees."

Mikleo stared at him, expressionless. Sorey leaned in and gave him another kiss on the forehead.

"Okay, I got another one. Manatees on the bay, frolicking free and gay, just like you and me, swimming all the live-long day-"

"Some of us are trying to pay attention to the documentary," Mikleo informed him. What phantom viewers he was referring to, we shall never know. "And flesh out our bibliography with some more journal sources." Mikleo's archaeological journal had been open to the same page, a full-page spread advertising hiking boots, for the past hour. "So I'll take a pass on listening to your sea cow poetry slam session."

Sorey's grin just got wider, and he tucked Mikleo a little closer to his chest.

"Ahh, okay, sorry. You know me, I just get distracted. Did you catch what they said manatees eat? Or where their habitat is? How far it spans? I wasn't paying attention."

Mikleo continued to study the boot ad. Sturdy-looking. Real leather. Quite impressive.

"Manatees are vicious, carnivorous predators that rule the shifting desert sands," Mikleo explained.

Sorey's eyebrow raised. Mikleo kept his expression neutral, and briefly glanced up from his journal.

"Though they are often seen in other habitats. Such as underneath the beds of terrible poets. They lie in blubbery wait to drag you to your sandy doom if you continue to besmirch their name with your clunky rhyme work."

"Clunky!? 'Bay' and 'gay' rhyme just fine!" Sorey objected.

"You've sealed your fate," Mikleo said gravely. "The sea cow cometh."

Mikleo jabbed his fingers into Sorey's sides to make him shriek and double over, and then yanked up his shirt to go for the killshot – Mikleo had very cold hands, and Sorey had very sensitive nipples. Sorey attempted a defensive handbra maneuver, but it was too little, too late. Mikleo's cold fingers made contact, and Sorey jumped so high he very nearly fell off the bed. He tried to skitter away from Mikleo's next assault, and then actually fell off the bed. Mikleo perched his chin on his hands, looking down at Sorey's defeated form on the bedroom floor.

"Another victim of the terror of the sands," Mikleo solemnly observed. "Goodbye forever, Sorey."

Sorey tugged his shirt back into place – Mikleo felt a twinge of disappointment at the loss of the wonderful view from above – and rolled Mikleo over to reclaim his spot. Normally, tickle fights weren't over in just one round, but if one of them scored a ring out like Mikleo just did, the victor was sealed. But Sorey didn't settle on just taking back his side of the bed – after rolling Mikleo over, he climbed on top of him and pressed another kiss to his forehead, then to his nose, and then a gentle, slow, almost shy one to his lips. He held himself there for a moment, letting his lips move against Mikleo's, then drew back, a hopeful look on his face.

In truth, Mikleo had been aching to climb Sorey like a tree for weeks. There wasn't much privacy on digs, nor was there much energy or time to spare. If they weren't out poking around in ancient mausoleums (not a good spot for funny business – Mikleo didn't put much stock in mummy curses, himself, but didn't want to push his luck), they were getting sweaty and filthy in holes in the ground. At the end of the day, it usually took everything in them to stuff a protein bar in their mouths and collapse into their tents. But god, the dig had done some wonderful things to Sorey. His chest and arms had gotten even more defined, his skin was an even more gorgeous shade of golden tan, and his ass – well. Mikleo was sure he could bounce quarters off it, and wanted to test his theory as soon as he could.

They'd been so exhausted when they finally got back home, and sex hadn't even really crossed Mikleo's mind, even when they had a shower and bath together – well, it had then, but his brain and tired body thoroughly outvoted his cock. But now, with Sorey warm and cuddly with him in their bed, fully rested and smelling of their shared little nest…and being so obnoxiously cute with his ridiculous poetry, big pleading eyes, and sensitive little nipples.

Mikleo had always wanted to see if he could get Sorey to come by just playing with his chest – he really was so sensitive there, and not just because of Mikleo's cold fingers. Mikleo's hands moved from where they rested on Sorey's back to slip under his shirt. No better time than now to challenge himself.

Mikleo palmed and kneaded his pecs, watching Sorey's eyes slip shut at the feeling. His mouth fell open, and a pleading little attempt at Mikleo's name slipped out. Mikleo tucked his face into Sorey's neck, mouth right next to his ear.

"You're so good, Sorey," he breathed. "I love hearing you. Even love hearing your dumb poetry."

Mikleo sucked a wet kiss to Sorey's pulse point, relishing in the moan vibrating against his lips. He tugged at the hem of Sorey's shirt, and Sorey nearly tangled himself trying to whip it off himself. Mikleo smiled so gently at him, and his fingers began to slowly trace the defined lines of his chest. By the time Mikleo's fingers had found their way to his areolas, circling just shy of the little nubs, Sorey's whole body was shaking like a leaf. His cock insistently poked and prodded against Mikleo's stomach. It was probably so hot and hard, and Sorey would come in seconds if Mikleo so much as brushed his palm against it. That simply wouldn't do, not when he had Sorey like putty in his hands – so completely at his mercy, to be loved as hard as Mikleo could.

"Beautiful," Mikleo said. Sorey looked like he could barely hear anything through his haze, but managed to shake his head at that.

"N-no…you're…Mikleo, Mikleo, you're the beautiful one…"

Mikleo smoothed his palm against Sorey's pec again and gave an appreciative little squeeze. He then leaned in, just barely brushing his lips against his nipple, and looked up at Sorey, trying to catch his eye. Sorey tried to lean in to get more contact, but Mikleo gave him a quick swat to the behind to jolt him back.

"Sorey. Look at me," Mikleo whispered against his skin.

Sorey whimpered and looked down. His biceps were shaking so hard that Mikleo was amazed he could still keep himself propped up over him. Mikleo took his nipple between his lips, and lightly teased it with just a hint of his tongue. Sorey keened and jerked forward, the strength finally going out of his arms. He dug his arms underneath Mikleo's body to clutch him close, clearly just as desperate for contact from Mikleo as Mikleo was from him. Mikleo chuckled and adjusted Sorey a bit more comfortably so he could work without being crushed.

"Beautiful," Mikleo insisted again. "God, you don't even know the things I was thinking about you on that dig."

Mikleo ran his tongue across his nipple, slow and wet, before taking it back between his lips to tease with his teeth. Sorey was panting hard, whining on every exhale, grinding his cock insistently against any warm spot he could reach on Mikleo. It seemed to go against his intent to get Sorey off by just touching his chest – Mikleo would have to tie him down to the bed next time so he couldn't rub those eager hips against anything. But he'd let it slide for now.

"Mikleo," Sorey begged. He'd been saying Mikleo's name so much, it'd almost lost meaning to him. "I'm gonna – I, I can't-"

"Shh. Come for me, Sorey," Mikleo said. "I bet you feel so good."

Sorey's face twisted, and Mikleo felt his cock pulse against him. Mikleo kept rubbing his pecs, kept sucking with lips and tongue and teeth; not letting up until he felt Sorey go still. A warm, wet spot bloomed on his sleeping shirt where Sorey came on him; sticking to his skin rather uncomfortably. Mikleo wriggled his way out from under Sorey, with effort (especially with Sorey whining piteously and grabbing at him), to shuck his old soft shirt and underwear. He moved to tug down Sorey's soiled boxers as well, and met with little resistance. As Mikleo tossed the clothes across the room, Sorey bundled him back down next to him, eagerly rubbing his hands against every inch of bare skin he could reach and nuzzling his face into Mikleo's hair while he caught his breath. Mikleo shoved him down to lay on his back, and climbed atop him. Sorey looked up at Mikleo like he was the sun and the stars, and Mikleo felt his heart flip with love.

"I want to be inside you," Mikleo said. "Is that alright?"

That expression was the same one Sorey wore when Mikleo asked him if he wanted ice cream. Sorey's smile nearly split his face, and he nodded eagerly; still breathing too hard to say much. Mikleo didn't know how he lived like this – having to survive dealing with this level of cuteness day in and day out.

The fact of the matter was, Sorey had a great ass, and Mikleo often found himself compelled to do something about it. Mikleo turned to grab the lube from the nightstand, and found that Sorey had turned over to get onto his stomach. Mikleo hummed appreciatively at the view – god, travelling and working outdoors had made him even more gorgeous, if that was even possible. He reached out a hand to smooth across the firm muscles of his back, trace the arch of his spine, pinch the little dimples above his ass. He gave his backside another little swat, and only narrowly avoided being hypnotized by the jiggle and the little yelp Sorey made at the contact. He had to focus. There would be plenty of booty jiggle to appreciate once he was inside and fucking Sorey stupid.

Fingers wet with lube, Mikleo traced upwards from the inside of Sorey's knee, up his inner thigh, and paused to rub gently at his perineum for a moment or two; relishing in the moans rumbling from Sorey's chest. Finally, when Sorey's pleas and Mikleo's own impatience got too much, he rubbed a finger at Sorey's entrance, tracing it once before pressing inside. Sorey's hips pressed back against him eagerly, and Mikleo bent to kiss between Sorey's shoulder blades as he slipped in another finger; stretching and working Sorey open with a practiced hand.

"So good," Mikleo murmured against his skin. He slid a third finger in, and watched as Sorey's spine arched prettily. "You always make me feel so good, Sorey. I want you to feel that way too."

Sorey whined, casting a desperate look over his shoulder as he thrust his hips back, fucking himself on Mikleo's fingers.

"Mikleo. Always so good, never anything else, I—ungh! –please, god, I need you so bad, please…"

Mikleo kissed up his spine soothingly, and bit down a bit on the nape of his neck as he removed his fingers. Sorey shuddered at the feeling, and shuddered again as he felt Mikleo's cock sliding against the crease of his backside. Mikleo rubbed against him, loving the way Sorey shoved his hips back against him as his cock slipped up and down, the head rubbing at Sorey's hole but never quite slipping inside. After a moment or two of listening to Sorey's increasingly fraught pleas for his cock, Mikleo decided to give in, and watched with lidded eyes as he sank into Sorey.

Sorey pushed back against him and groaned aloud when Mikleo was fully inside, and began to bounce his hips frantically; fucking himself on Mikleo's cock as he had done to his fingers. Mikleo wanted to take it slow, to take Sorey apart piece by piece with measured gentleness and then put him back together, but as always, there was nothing to be done but to give Sorey exactly what he wanted. He was just too spoiled, honestly. Mikleo took him by the hips and began to fuck him at the hard, fast pace Sorey set, watching in rapture the way his back muscles stiffened and moved under his skin, the way Sorey's fingers curled white-knuckle into the sheets, and – of course – watching his butt jiggle with every thrust. He loved having Sorey when he was on his back or straddling his hips to see his expressions while Mikleo fucked him, but taking him from behind was a magical experience in its own way. Its own jiggly way.

It took monumental effort to tear his eyes away. Mikleo leaned over Sorey's back to nibble at his ear, and slid one hand off his hip to play with his chest again.

"You feel so good inside, Sorey," Mikleo whispered. He bit at his earlobe with careful teeth. "It feels like heaven, so warm and tight."

Sorey choked back a sob, turning his head over his shoulder and nearly knocking his head against Mikleo's in an attempt to steal a kiss. Mikleo steered their lips into position for a proper kiss as he positioned Sorey's hips just so, allowing Mikleo to piston his cock right into Sorey's sweet spot, again and again. Sorey's eyes rolled back into his head, and he dropped his face down into the pillow, abandoning himself to Mikleo's touch. One hand rubbing and pinching at Sorey's chest, the other jerking Sorey's cock hard and fast – it was all Mikleo could do to make sure Sorey climaxed first; he needed so badly so feel him come around his cock.

Soon, Mikleo's wish was granted – Sorey's walls shivered and clenched down around him, and Sorey came with a shout, pulsing and spilling into Mikleo's waiting hand. Mikleo gasped as his own orgasm hit; a quieter end than Sorey's, but no less grand for it. Mikleo saw stars as pleasure washed over his whole body, and he ground his cock into Sorey to ride it out as long as he could.

They lay there for a long, comfortable few moments; Mikleo gently kissing along Sorey's shoulders until he returned to the land of the living, and then giving him all the kisses he demanded (many). Mikleo carefully pulled out of him, and very nearly was up for another round at the sight of his cum drooling out of Sorey's hole. For better or worse, exhaustion and jet lag were creeping up on him again, and the need to clean up before stickiness set in was paramount in his mind.

Of course, there were roadblocks to progress here.

"Sorey," Mikleo said, firmly. He was seated on the edge of the bed, having been locked in place by Sorey's arms wrapping around his waist. "We can cuddle after we're clean. Come with me to the bathroom."

Sorey made a sleepy noise, and nuzzled his cheek a little more firmly into the small of Mikleo's back. Mikleo tried to pry himself loose, to no avail. It was bad enough when Sorey became a cuddle monster in public; in private, he was so much worse, especially post-coitus, and especially when it came time to clean up. Mikleo wasn't even the one with cum inside him to clean up this time and he still felt compelled to intervene in the name of Sorey's best interests.

"If you don't let go and come with me to the shower, you're going to be stuck on bibliography duty next week."

A harsh threat, but it worked. Grumbling, Sorey loosened his arms enough for Mikleo to stand and help him to his feet. Mikleo probably should have voiced a warning when Sorey drew him close again, tucking him against his chest and resting his chin atop his head. There were bibliographies to be compiled, after all.

Mikleo let his eyes slip shut. But, there were also documentaries to watch, and books to read, and ice cream to eat – together, forever.