10 Do We Move Your World
When summer came Michael was disappointed Pete wouldn't be coming back to South Park for the break. He wasn't surprised though, as Pete had said before there was nothing left for him to do but hang out with Michael in that small town and that simply wasn't enough. Pete had taken advantage of his opportunities in his college town instead, taking up a part time job at a coffee shop/bar and an internship writing small columns and editing in a local magazine.
However, since classes were out Pete wasn't as restricted to needing the after school time for homework, his schedule being more consistent day to day. Michael was able to visit for an entire week rather than just a weekend. He couldn't be more thrilled.
The summer was surprisingly warm in Colorado when he visited that week though, and he had to borrow some of Pete's black wife beaters to stay cool. Disgruntled, it was usually so temperate that time of year, even chilly, and Michael had brought pants and long sleeve over-shirts he could roll up the sleeves on, but they were all too warm. He cursed global warming.
Michael made a point of moving quickly from one building to the next to avoid the heat. Pete reached over to Michael who wasn't paying attention to hand him a piece of paper.
Looking down at the rainbow flier in his hand Michael shifted on his feet anxiously.
"A pride parade?" he asked, glancing up at Pete who avoided Michael's nervous gaze. It wasn't as if Michael had needed to have a "coming out of the closet" experience since his mother was accepting regardless and he had only a couple of friends. The idea of standing in a group of people in public made him nervous enough, let alone to be recognized as "gay" among them, with his partner no less. Suddenly Michael felt very defined under a number of labels he hadn't even thought about before; disregarding social stigmas had always come so naturally for him.
He winced, considering Pete's situation and felt a sudden obligation to indulge the younger goth. After all, it was Pete who had suffered for who he was and still hid from being open with his family.
His parents had divorced and his mother who he spent most of his youth with was a kind woman but painfully ignorant and dull. She enjoyed working retail, a fact which frustrated Pete beyond explanation, but he had no choice but to claim to love her because it would break his mother's feeble heart if he said otherwise. In a way Pete was all his mother had. When she'd told him she was glad she hadn't committed suicide shortly after his birth, Pete was assured he was what made his mother's life worth living. Pete hadn't told her about his orientation yet and had no real intention to. Ever.
Then Michael remembered Pete telling him about what his much older sister had said. She had lived with their father for a few years after the separation before she was old enough to move out. Concerned about Pete, their father had said something like "I'm just glad he's not gay," shortly after Pete had started dating a girl in high school which lasted a spectacular two weeks. Pete had been painfully quiet for the following week and it was no wonder he'd been so upset when Michael happened to kiss him. Michael grimaced again, forgetting where he was, consumed in his recollection.
"You don't want to go," Pete said flatly with disappointment reading Michael's expression.
"Won't we be so hot standing there in the sun on the roadside watching the thing for hours?" Michael asked. He knew he was going and it would probably be pretty entertaining, but he figured he'd go ahead and disclose any protests and concerns then for good measure. Michael just needed a protest that didn't put Pete at fault was all.
"We can use an umbrella or parasol like we used to back in high school if you like," Pete said as they sat down on the couch in his aunt's living room. "I still have some stored away up in the attic." Michael shrugged at this as if it was a convincing consideration.
"Alright," he resigned. "But you'll have to loan me another tank top or something."
"You could always go shirtless," Pete suggested, his eyebrows raised with sudden enthusiasm.
"With all of those prying eyes?" Michael joked, his confidence not leveling himself with being much of a pleasant sight without a shirt. Pete however, considered this a logical threat and decided he'd rather leave Michael's features for his consumption alone. They could be provocative, Pete considered, that was never a bad idea. Then something came to mind.
"Wait here," Pete said suddenly and Michael nodded though he was a little taken aback as his friend leaped from the couch. He ran up to his bedroom and Michael toyed with speakers to plug in his iPod. Nearly forgetting he'd just created a new podcast episode, Michael played it and smiled gently. Pete didn't need to know what the theme that month was, or that Michael had selected songs that specifically conveyed his feelings for the younger man. He heard Pete coming up the hall again and lowered the volume so they could easily speak.
Michael grew curious because Pete had his arms full of laptop and other things as he sat down on the floor in the middle of the room. Pete set down a bundle of black cloth, Sharpies and scissors before he opened up his laptop.
"What's all this?" Michael asked as he moved from the couch to the floor. Picking up the bundle Michael found two black t shirts and glanced up at Pete who typed on his computer.
"There's this cool tutorial on Pinterest," Pete started before Michael raised his eyebrows. Glancing up to read Michael's expression Pete added, "Shut it," as he realized how conformist having a Pinterest must be. "Here," he said stubbornly, turning the computer screen toward Michael.
"Oh," Michael said, surprised he thought it neat as well. After all DIY clothing had been one of his longest lived interests in high school. Pete smiled triumphantly.
"Right? So first let's draw out the design with these," Pete said as he handed Michael a black sharpie. "Then," he motioned as he held up a pair of scissors in hand and made a snipping motion.
Half an hour later, Michael and Pete had two shirt with holes cut in the back to resemble the eye holes, nose and teeth of skulls. Michael held his up next to Pete's.
"Damn," Michael complained as he compared the two. "Mine has a saggy eye." Pete burst out in laughter, not expecting Michael to be so obsessive.
"It's cute," Pete said next to him. "And now at least we won't be so warm with holes in the backs of our shirts," he added expectantly and Michael nodded, realizing he hadn't actually told Pete he was going.
"Alright," Michael sighed and Pete beamed at him. He leaned to kiss Michael on the cheek and the tall man turned his head expectantly as Pete pulled back, their eyes meeting. Smiling again, Pete waited as Michael leaned in to kiss his lips.
However, the following day when Pete and Michael dressed for the parade, coming downstairs to fill their zombie thermoses with iced coffee, the taller goth hesitated.
"You're not wearing that," Michael said, eying the surprisingly short cut of Pete's black shorts.
"What?" Pete shrugged, looking down as he turned to face Michael. "It's hot."
"Exactly," Michael said and Pete paused.
"I meant outside, it's hot outside," Pete said, flushing with realization. "Here," he said suddenly, thrusting a cold thermos toward Michael who took it, smelling the iced coffee Pete had prepared for them to hide his smile.
They stood beneath the shadow of their black umbrella, sipping cold coffee and watching the colorful floats pass by. Troupes of flamboyantly dressed, half nude people passed as they waved or threw candy in the summer heat. When Michael considered with the way people their age dressed, Pete's shorts weren't really that provocative in comparison after all. Occasionally Michael would glance over at Pete, exposing his worry at the other nearly naked guys. Pete would just look at him, laugh, then nudge Michael's skinny arm with his elbow who would smile back. It was exhilarating at least, being surrounded by so many friendly, open-minded people who cheered while drag queens danced, distributing colorful beads.
"When are you going to wear lady's lingerie for me again?" Pete asked enticingly, eying one of the drag queens. Michael forced himself to frown to resist smirking as he shrugged nonchalantly, seriously considering the question.
"If you're really into that sort of thing," Michael offered and Pete glanced up at him to laugh shortly. He'd keep Michael's lack of resistance in the back of his mind for future reference. Pete felt so giddy, reveling in the underlying rebellious satisfaction he got for enjoying officially recognizing himself as a part of a community his family condemned for so long.
Pete left Michael's side for a moment to return with Popsicles in hand. On his way he walked more slowly to admire Michael's boney shouldered silhouette against the bright day as he sheltered himself with the umbrella. Michael laughed as he took the blue one, resisting the urge to turn the fruity pillar of ice into a sexual innuendo. He was briefly startled when Pete's hand met the damp of his lower back, pulling Michael closer as those fingertips weaved with the holey cotton fabric to press into his skin. Pete's fingertips sought out the slight knots of Michael's spine absentmindedly. He tried to hide the shiver that coursed pleasantly up his spine.
"Petie!" they heard a woman's voice call and Michael turned only when Pete did, not immediately realizing the woman was addressing his partner.
"Aunt Helena," Pete said aloud, his lips stretching into a happy grin. "Welcome back!" They embraced while the last parade float drove slowly by. "You remember Michael," Pete said as he turned to take his friend's arm.
"Of course!" Helena reached out to shake Michael's hand with a grin before pulling him in for a hug. Michael smiled gently at her, remembering that this was Pete's mother, his father, his guidance. He surely had Helena to thank for Pete's acceptance of himself. "And this is Marina," she said turning to a thinner woman who appeared to be about Helena's age. She too held out her hand to meet Michael who presumed she was Helena's partner. "How about I take you kids out for a late lunch?" Helena offered more than asked and Pete took Michael's hand to smile up at him.
Helena had always seemed to be out of town when Michael usually visited Pete, but he remembered her from when they were kids. She was always so friendly, actually doting upon Pete for the holidays and his birthday when his parents would forget about their son, too caught up making a fuss over their lack of money. Helena had even taken Pete out to look at the in state colleges, giving him a real sense for a future outside of South Park.
Michael listened to Pete's enthusiasm as he told his aunt how he'd been. The four of them sat at a table in a restaurant more expensive than Pete or Michael had tried on their own. Feeling content but perhaps a little timid in the presence of Helena, Michael was pulled from his slight daze when Pete spoke toward him.
"Aunt Helena helped arrange the first Pride Parade in this town," Pete said excitedly and Michael smiled. She would have done such a thing, and Michael recognized the adoration Pete had in his eyes.
"It was a little rough at first, and they even quit having them for a little while with the negative backlash the parade brought, that was about the time I moved to the coast. But I'm glad it's happening again."
"She studied here too," Pete said as if it explained everything about his own choice in college. "That's why her second home is here."
"I couldn't bring myself to sell it and when Pete expressed interest in studying here I was grateful that someone would be there to keep up with the place," Helena explained before turning to address Pete directly. "Though I admittedly hoped you would have made some friends by now that could share the place. I'm concerned about renting it to wild college kids but if they were your friends I'm sure they'd be sensible enough I could trust them."
"Yeeeah," Pete sighed apologetically and he consciously bit at the straw in his drink.
"I don't suppose you're interested in moving here?" Helena turned toward Michael who was startled, especially when Pete sat up straight and eyed him intently.
"That would be up to Pete," Michael disclosed, his voice quieter than he meant it to be. He wanted to say something like 'Fuck yes I'm interested, how soon can it happen?' but resisted under Pete's unreadable gaze and decided to take the neutral route. Michael only hoped Helena could read the longing in his eyes.
"Well in the mean time you're more than welcome to keep stopping by, Michael," Helena said with a friendly smile, briefly placing her hand over Michael's. It was almost strange being accepted by another family, especially Pete's when it had always just been his mother welcoming his friends into their own.
A little later after Michael and Pete both peaked at the cost of lunch and glanced toward one another in dismay, the four parted ways. Reveling in the air conditioner of Pete's place as soon as they got through the door, Michael sighed, raising his arm to shake his shirt and air out his body.
Waking late the next day, Pete suggested he show Michael the cafe where he'd be spending a significant amount of his summer.
They walked to Pete's new job that evening, and Michael was introduced to the bar/coffee shop. The place was unique, filled with seating at tables surrounded by walls always covered in artwork. As the sun set Michael was surprised when they went out back to find a slew of people dancing to no music. Bewildered, he and Pete stood off to the side, watching the mass of moving bodies as his friend began to explain.
"It's called a silent disco," Pete introduced. "Basically you get a pair of headphones and those Djs," Pete gestured to the two men on either side of the outdoor space, "Play their music on separate channels so you can flip between them." As he looked up to read Michael's response, Pete was a little surprised to see the older goth smiling.
"I haven't danced in ages," Michael admitted, but he certainly knew how. Back when they were younger Michael had been inspired by the goths dancing on the street in an old Skinny Puppy video and had been determined to learn to dance. He'd learned a little more than what he knew for that dance off in elementary school for sure, and was honestly looking forward to moving to the music again. There was always such a freedom it granted.
Pete was reluctant to share his desire to dance with Michael since this would certainly be outside of both their taste in music. Michael looked upon Pete with enthusiasm who was pleased his idea wasn't arguable. Of course the drinks they'd had earlier didn't hinder either of their enthusiasm and Michael insisted on paying for the two sets of headphones.
They submerged their ears in a wash of heavy beats and suddenly the movement of the crowd around them made sense. Though the music was pretty typical mainstream dance music, it was tolerable and Michael and Pete could get into it. A little stiff at dancing, Michael just began with movements from side to side from the knees as he twisted his arms around. Pete moved around him shaking his hips along the way and they smiled when their eyes met.
An hour later Michael and Pete were both heated and damp, switching between the two different DJs. Pete moved to one beat while Michael shook to the other. Then Pete began to make a dipping motion with several of the others in the crowd apparently recognizing the song as well. Curiously, Michael switched to the other DJ Pete must be hearing and the song was vaguely familiar but something newer than he recognized. Apparently Pete had been out dancing a few times to know how to follow the specific routine he moved to and Michael was captivated as he moved closer. His attention distracted, Michael's body movements softened and Pete came so close to him he anticipated them touching. But they didn't, instead Pete indulged in some kind of erotic hip swinging which Michael had seen woman on television do once or twice before. He kept arching his back and jutting his ass out, then turning to tease Michael before dipping to the ground and repeating the movements.
Lost in this, the song changed before Michael knew it and Pete returned to his normal dancing. He retreated, motioning toward Pete that he was going to get something more to drink. Pete took off his headphones and Michael did too so they could talk to one another. They were awkward, half yelling at each other after having adjusted to the volume of the headphones and suddenly being confronted with near silence. A little disoriented, Pete joined Michael for several jello shots and the taller goth studied his friend closely as a pierced tongue slipped into the plastic dish to scoop out the green substance. Michael copied him before they returned to the dance floor for another hour or so of hypnotic movements.
Pete showered first, then Michael to wash away the night. Michael rolled his eyes after rubbing his hair dry with a towel when he realized it was the last one. Trying to dry his skin with the one he'd used on his hair, Michael sighed because it was too saturated and left him damp. His hair had grown longer recently and his thick, curly locks collected an unnecessary amount of water. Wrapping the towel around him, Michael opened the bathroom door to Pete's room as the flood of cold air washed over him. His nipples perked up as his skin dotted with goosebumps.
"I need another towel," he said as Pete looked up from a magazine where he lay on his belly. He was in only his Batman boxer briefs and smiled gently as he saw Michael shiver. Standing, Pete approached the cold man who watched him with more intensity then he realized.
"No need," Pete said as he took the towel to unwrap it from Michael's waist. "I'll warm you up," and he looked seductively up at the taller man with an insinuating smile. Michael couldn't help but remember the way Pete had danced against him and indulged himself in what he'd want to do for the whole rest of the night. He leaned toward Pete and slowly closed their distance. His lips sweet from jello shots, Michael savored Pete's equally sweet kiss, gentle and almost chaste in comparison to what he anticipated for the evening. Michael's hands pushed down Pete's boxer briefs which fell to the floor as the dry naked front of the man joined with his damp skin. As Michael blindly reached to cut out the lights Pete broke their kiss to jerk his arm back down.
"Leave it on, I wanna to see," he breathed. Michael wanted to tell Pete he didn't want to be exposed but he knew it would be no use since the brat would get his way. The idea of subtle humiliation brought on by Pete's eyes on his naked form wasn't altogether unpleasant anyway. Pete eyed Michael's lewd expression, his lids low and lips parted as he panted quietly with excitement. He leaned forward to lick Michael's lips slowly which parted to let his own tongue forward to meet Pete's. Without bringing their lips together their tongues caressed one another until Michael's hand wandered between them and covered Pete's stiffening member. Pete froze then as he moaned softly, withdrawing his tongue slowly. Michael's seemed to chase Pete's tongue and he overtook the shorter goth's mouth, delving and lapping between his submissive lips. Large, thin hands kneaded his cock and balls until Pete felt like he couldn't breathe.
Michael finally pulled back to let them pant for air and Pete pushed him toward the bed. Michael reached to pull Pete with him, but as he backed toward the mattress he stumbled. Pete took advantage of his clumsiness, shoving Michael before he could regain his footing so that the man fell back hard upon the mattress, bouncing slightly. Michael laughed shortly in amusement before Pete snatched up the towel he used to dry his own body and threw it over curly hair. Pete crawled over Michael who laughed, rubbing his head vigorously to dry the dripping curls before standing to hang the towel over the hook on his door. Pete returned quickly, straddling Michael's calves, pausing as his eyes trailed up long, thin legs.
Pete froze, his fingertips gently grazing through Michael's short dark hairs at the strange pink dots on his skin
"What are these?" he asked, hushed.
"Oh," Michael began, licking his lips as he lifted his head. "Punishment," and he paused when Pete's attention shot up at him, his eyes demanding explanation. "It- When I thought you had left me for good I started to smoke cigarettes again and it pissed me off, made me think of you, so I started to put them out on my leg."
"Idiot," Pete growled before he bent low, nipping with his teeth against a few of the older burns. Michael gasped in pain, the wounds searing, the fresh scar tissue unbearably sensitive. His voice shuttered as Pete's tongue replaced his merciless teeth and Michael writhed beneath the attention.
With that lovely, pained sound, Pete rose quickly to take Michael's wrists and shoving them into the soft material above his head. Pete lay flush against Michael's front, thrusting gently as the man moaned.
"Mmm," Michael got out before his own lips were stolen by Pete, stifling his moan but not stopping it. He thrust up against Pete the best he could, the shorter goth's own hips overtaking his movements, leaving him devoid of power. Pete's lips lifted from his own, slick with saliva as he peered down into Michael's face. His eyelids faltering, Michael looked up into Pete's gaze which bore into him, and he tried to move his hands so he could touch the thrusting man above him. But those hands around his wrists tightened and Pete's thrusts grew rough as he rubbed them together and Michael swore he heard a growl from the man's throat. As Michael closed his eyes, tipping his head back as he resigned himself to pleasure, there was a clicking above him. He looked up to find Pete's attention looking past him and Michael tried to lean his head back to see what was going on with no success. Something cold encompassed Michael's wrists and though Pete's hands moved down Michael's were still pinned over his head. Slowly he grasped what restrained him before Pete's hands pinched at his nipples and Michael gasped. The thrusting between them resumed until both grew frantic, their hips driven by hot friction and desperation. Michael grew close, his own movements short and needy as Pete lifted himself from their contact.
Michael whined in disappointment and he wanted to sob when Pete chuckled at him. Lips met his jawline and moved downward to graze his collarbone. Pete's teeth teased the protruding bone before he bit at Michael's thin flesh who gasped in discomfort. Pete's lips sucked loudly at the spot so that it would leave a lovely red bruise the following day.
"You're so skinny," Pete whispered into the crook of Michael's neck as he lowered his hips to briefly rub them together again. "All skin and bone," he continued as he removed his hips again and Michael whimpered softly, "Like a corpse." And Pete's teeth descended upon a flushed nipple. He grazed it then sucked with all his strength as Michael writhed beneath him. Pete moved down, digging his fingertips into the sides of Michael's ribcage as he drug his short nails slowly down the man's sides.
"Mmmn!" Michael panted in return, uncertain whether the harsh scratch was painful or pleasant. He lifted his head to look down and see what Pete was doing once the nails stopped mid hip. Pete looked up at him and their eyes locked as a wet tongue slowly descended from lips just above the head of Michael's painfully erect cock. Swearing that time was moving especially slow, Michael watched Pete's tongue draw close and when it met the underside of his sensitive tip Michael's head fell back against the bed. His hips tried to thrust upward of their own accord, seeking out that mouth so close to pleasuring him but Pete's hands gripped his hips, anchoring him to the mattress. Michael pulled against the handcuffs which kept his balled fists above his head. Pete's tongue left him too soon and as Michael felt the bed shift, he raised his head to see what was going on.
"Lift your hips," Pete instructed and Michael complied as a pillow was put beneath him, then a second before dropping his hips. The angle was strange though not uncomfortable, but Michael's breathing never slowed as he realized how much this would expose him to Pete's eyes. "Good," Pete coaxed, rewarding his partner as his tongue licked up the underside of Michael's erection. His lips closed around the head, sucking powerfully before pulling off of Michael altogether with a loud pop.
Michael wanted to sob for his need but he contained the sound painfully in his chest instead. Pete shifted again, but Michael was too consumed in his pent up lust to pay attention. Then something covered his eyes and Michael's lips parted in question. He felt elastic stretch behind his head which he lifted slightly to assisted Pete without really thinking about it.
"What?" Michael breathed, realizing his ability to see had been taken from him and he panicked for a moment.
"Shh," Pete hushed him. "That's a good boy," and Michael settled down a little at the sound of Pete's praise. Lips brushed his own and Michael trembled as he tried to capture them, but they were gone. He felt Pete's presence move lower again and Michael clenched up nervously, his thighs coming close together.
"Spread your legs," Pete instructed and Michael complied a little but not very far before his body froze. "More," Pete said and Michael shook his head. He couldn't stand the idea of Pete looking at him so closely, seeing all of him when Michael didn't even have the power to see what was being done to himself. Michael swallowed hard as he sensed Pete's frustration.
"Michael," Pete said softly and fingertips traced up the insides of Michael's sensitive, dark haired thighs. His legs trembling, Michael swallowed again as his hands strained against the handcuffs. Lips wrapped around the tip of his cock which dripped with his precum and Michael lost control of his tight leg muscles as Pete hummed around him. He tried to keep his legs together but instead they were easily pushed apart by Pete's insistent hands as Michael's body wanted to grant more access to his needy cock. The mouth left him again as Pete's hands forced his legs apart, the insides of his thighs stretching so that Michael's intimacy was exposed for those prying eyes.
"Pe-," Michael began before he gasped loudly and a mouth met with his exposed pucker. He tried to close his legs, to hide himself away, but his faltering strength was easily outmatched by Pete's. As a wet tongue lapped at his entrance, Pete's face buried between his legs, Michael lost all of his composure and will to fight. He groaned and was astonished to find himself wanting Pete deeper, to go inside of him.
Pete's short nails drug down Michael's thighs and across the soft flesh of his ass, squeezing him and spreading him. Two thumbs joined Pete's curious tongue and Michael could feel as one tip pressed into his tight being. Despite its resistance, Pete relented and the thumb entered Michael who squeezed the digit tightly. Michael groaned loudly, the sensation dominating his self restraint as an overwhelming mixture of indistinguishable feelings consumed him. Pete's thumb plunged the short distance into Michael that it could before retreating enough to grant room for Pete's tongue to join it. Michael was lost in his own voice, pleasure and discomfort mixing to shoot jolts of excitement to his cock which dripped heavily. Pete's tongue left him and another wet thumb joined the other, relenting against his tightness to bury themselves into Michael. Then Pete pulled his thumbs apart, stretching Michael slowly as they withdrew so that only their tips opened up the tight ring.
Pete's mouth pressed against Michael, his tongue entering freely, slurping loudly. Sobbing beyond Pete's intrusion, Michael was a puddle of shameful pleasure on the mattress beneath him. Pete was so hard as his tongue searched out Michael's insides, wishing the pink muscles weren't so restricted by their own length. He watched Michael's cock twitch with excitement as his tongue ventured mindlessly, encouraged by the lovely, desperate sounds that fell from his lover's lips. Finally Pete withdrew and Michael was lost with his lack of vision, realizing he'd been imagining what Pete was doing beneath the darkness of his eyelids.
Left with the emptiness of Pete's abandoned intrusion, Michael could do nothing but desire release. His mind was blank, the only thing steering his consciousness was the straining cock between his hips. As Pete's fingertips brushed the underside of Michael's cock the man's body jumped with the sudden contact. Pete would have smiled were he not so consumed in his lust, his fingertips collecting Michael's essence from his twitching, needy cock.
"Tell me you want it," Pete whispered, his voice sounding strange and restricted to his own ears. "Tell me you want me to fuck you."
"No," Michael ground out, his hips rolling so that he might gain more contact than just the fingertips on his arousal. Michael's heart jumped into his throat as the bed shifted and Pete climbed over him. Lips drew near Michael's ear and he trembled as Pete spoke.
"But my cock want's you so badly," Pete whispered as he rubbed himself roughly against Michael. "Can you feel it?" he asked, his breath hushed and Pete let his voice betray his need. "Don't you want to make me feel good?"
Michael nodded, his throat dry with his inability to speak.
Oh fuck, he wanted to make Pete feel good so badly, because Pete was making him feel so good, and Pete's pleasure was his own.
Need consumed him and Michael shuddered as Pete's lips claimed him, his mouth devouring pleading groans. Pete's kiss pulled away but still their chins touched as he patiently awaited Michael's response.
"Fuck me," Michael breathed, his shaking voice barely a whisper.
Pete, already positioned and ready to penetrate Michael pressed into the man beneath him. Michael's mouth fell agape and Pete leaned back to make his entrance easier. A long, drawn out moan left Michael as Pete slowly slid into him, his cock wet and rock hard. Michael wrapped his legs around Pete's body, digging his bony heels encouragingly into his backside.
Pete wanted to tell Michael how good he felt inside of him but no coherent words left his lips. There were just the throws of pleasure emitting, loud and needy and all consuming.
Michael's thin frame rocked beneath Pete's thrusts and the whole bed shuddered in their wake. Pete pressed his palms into Michael's belly, sure he could feel the subtle bulge as his cock was buried deep into that thin belly of the guttural, moaning man. Michael wanted to reach out and draw Pete down onto him, perhaps kiss him, but his arms felt muscless, like his strength was stripped from him by the pleasure that consumed his body.
"Pe," Michael gasped, his lips his last hope. "Pete-, uhn!"and Pete's eyes opened, falling upon Michael's needy expression. "I luh," Michael swallowed, oh fuck. "I-"
But Pete leaned forward like he wanted, spreading Michael's legs wider and penetrating deeper. Fingertips traced the dots on Michael's thigh while Pete's other hand reached to stroke that pale, thin throat. Pete's thumb pressed gently into Michael's Adam's apple.
"Me too," Pete breathed raggedly and the tone in his voice set Michael ablaze. His thin fingers gripped the sheet and heels dug into Pete, finding some semblance of strength with his fast approaching release. Michael's breathy pants turned into throaty sobs with Pete's following few thrusts and he lost himself. Pete groaned hard against Michael's chest, losing his ability to hold himself upright, his hips moving with sharp thrusts as he spent himself.
Pete let his weight relax on Michael, listening to the heartbeat against his ear sooth away his orgasmic blindness. He slipped out of Michael with a subtle shift to the side and Pete tossed the condom behind him, hopefully in the general direction of the waste basket. He didn't bother to clean them, assuming Michael was too distracted for his compulsions to kick in. They lay motionless beside one another, only moving when Pete entwined his fingers with Michael's, then once more when they grew too chilly without the covers.
"Your blankets will get dirty," Michael protested breathlessly.
"Let them, they can be washed tomorrow," Pete whispered sleepily.
"I wish you could stay inside of me forever," Michael mumbled, his thoughts disjointed as he descended slowly from consciousness. Pete chuckled next to him, rolling to lay one leg across Michael's, and an arm across his bony chest. He nipped at Michael's pierced ear with his lips until he grew so incoherent he couldn't continue.
"You'll always be inside of me," Pete uttered huskily. "Maybe not physically," he could just barely say. "But-," he tried to finish as sleep tried to sweep his thoughts away, "And I'll be in you," he finished, the fingers of his hand twitching on Michael's chest to emphasize his meaning.
"I just," Michael whispered as he glanced down at Pete's closed eyes. "I just couldn't stand you pushing me away again," he uttered almost inaudibly, grateful Pete's breathing was already leveling with sleep. Michael kissed Pete's forehead before sighing happily as sleep took him as well.