Chris's eyes flew open, as a moan ghosted from his lips. The clock at his bedside was blaring, and he sluggishly turned his pink, veiny eyes towards the red glowing numbers. He pushed a couple buttons and the thing shut up, and he glanced down at the tent under the sheets, as fuzzy remains of a very realistic wet dream drifted from his mind. His hair and pillow was soaked with sweat, and his skin felt slippery from the excitement that had slicked his body with sweat. His chest was still heaving, his mind dizzy, and throwing mental strings of curses at the damned clock for waking him up before the dream was able to come to a crashing climax.

He dragged his hand over his brow and rolled over to his side, grinning at the lump that was buried in covers next to him, soft snores issuing. Matt could easily sleep through the annoying buzz of a clock, hell, he could probably sleep if a freight train came barreling through the hotel room. Chris pulled the covers away from Matt, revealing his naked, tanned, back. Chris wasted no time tasting the flesh that belong to his lips and mouth only. His hot, wet, tongue licked and prodded between Matt's shoulder blades, his teeth nipped softly, and the ticklish skin beneath rippled against his lips as they softly caressed.

His hand snaked over Matt's side and to his chest, finding one of his round pecs. His skilled fingers teased one of the soft buds until it was hard to his touch.

"Ah, Matt…you feel so good." His voice came whispery and desperate against the crevasse at Matt's lower back, right above the cleft of his unclothed ass. He wondered for a moment, as his hardness ached against the thin fabric of his boxers, who he was tormenting more: himself, or Matt. He convinced himself that as soon as Matt woke up and felt what was being done to him, that he'd be sure to give in. Trick him while he's only half awake, still groggy, and horny from Chris' touches, and this whole stupid sex-war would be over with. Better yet, Chris would be the victor.

His lips tilted up to one side in a smirk, now convinced by his arrogance that Matt was about to be Southern putty in his hands. He hooked his fingers under the straining band of his boxers and pulled them down around his hips, his twitching erection springing free. The brush of the tender organ against Matt's rounded ass had Chris gasping. He pulled Matt towards him and moved his cock between the ample, dimpled, globes, sliding it as his hands gripped Matt's cheeks and pressed them into a tighter hug around his aching member. His own senses were strung tight, blood rushing and thundering through his veins, throbbing the pulse in his neck and in his ears. His teeth scraped against Matt's shoulder, leaving red trails.

"Matty, sweet Matty—w-wake up." Chris purred against Matt's ear.

He was surprised when the body against his started to tremble with laughter that was attempting to be muffled into a pillow. Chris stopped the rolling movements of his hips, as he panted against Matt's back. He was…he was laughing? Chris was practically struck dumb, what in the hell was his lover doing? He grabbed Matt and rolled him over, and Matt grinned up at him, as he reached between his legs and played with his own hardened length. Chris's face was frozen in a mask of surprise, his cheeks rosy-red, as sweat trailed down his jaw.

"Come on Chris, don't you want to fuck me?" Matt's smile widened, a dark cockiness glimmering in his eyes.

Chris's face finally morphed into an expression of anger and annoyance.

"Oh no, you're not turning this around on me!" He huffed. "You--"

"What, I'm supposed to give in? I'm not the one writhing in my sleep and practically creaming the sheets. Did you even look at the time?"

Matt's laughter grew, as Chris jerked his head and glared at the clock as though it had offended him with some rude remark. It was then that he realized the alarm had went off about an hour earlier than it should have. Chris turned back to Matt, and narrowed his eyes.

"You woke me up from my dream on purpose." Chris climbed on top of Matt, straddling his chest. Matt put on an expression of innocence, his brown eyes wide.

"Chris, why would I do that?"

"You're trying to break me!" Chris yelled.

"So, dumbass you're trying to break me too!" Matt shouted back, and toppled Chris off of him.

"Just say it Matt, say you want me to fuck you and I will! You know you want this big boy filling you with my hot--"

Matt leaned close to Chris and flicked his tongue against his parted lips.

"Hm, Chris why don't you tell me how much you want me to fuck you. Just give in Chris, and put that beautiful ass of yours up in the air, sink your teeth into the pillow like you always do like the perfect little whore…" Matt's words became husky and strained, and they trailed off. Two sets of eyes locked with each other. Chris could tell by the look on Matt's face that his own words and the images they brought were exciting Matt, hence why he'd bitten them off and was now looking through glazed eyes.

"That what you want Matt? You want me to be a slut for you?" Chris slid his boxers all the way off, and tossed them to the floor. He pulled his knees up under his belly so his ass was hoisted up, looking very inviting, his legs splayed wide and ready for Matt to pound into him. He reached for a pillow. "Come on, do you want it?" Chris wiggled his ass, and stuffed a corner of the pillow into his mouth as he groaned into it, his eyes narrowed to slits as he watched Matt.

The dark haired man was now thoroughly frustrated, the invitation of Chris's ass wanting to do him in. He pulled his shaking fingers through his unruly curls and licked his lips as his eyes roamed over the perfect, healthy, curves of Chris's rear end. Chris kept rolling his hips, rocking them, wiggling, the sexual movements seductive as Matt moved closer. His clammy palms roamed over Chris's backside, caressing the humps, before moving up his back and to his shoulders, where Matt dipped his head. His breaths came hot and heavy against Chris's ear, the soft curls of Matt's hair tickling the sensitive hairs at the back of Chris' neck. Chris shuddered, and whined into the pillow as his hard-on throbbed painfully and dripped warm liquid.

The seconds seemed like hours, as Matt said nothing, just let his breaths condensate against Chris's ear making it hot and wet until the close space between them felt like a sauna and Chris was writhing, making noises into the pillow clenched between his teeth, which had Matt digging deep to keep from just grabbing the blonds hips and hammering him senseless. Matt closed his eyes, and took a few more long, moments to try and somewhat compose himself, and to remind himself of the arrogant things Chris had said to him, and how Chris was counting on him giving in, and how the cocky idiot would parade his weakness around at him, flaunting it like a golden title. The very thought renewed Matt's anger at his lover for the stupid fight they'd had, and the even more idiotic bet he'd made. His anger came in form of a growl against Chris ear. Even though Chris had yet to give into him, it gave him some sort of pleasure to notice that one of Chris's hands was pulling hard at his cock to get relief as Matt tormented him.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Christopher. I don't want to."

He slithered his tongue into the entrance of Chris's ear. He lazily dragged it around and wetting the crevasses before nipping it between his teeth, then pulled away, as Chris came and his strangled cry was buried into the pillow he was gagging on.

Matt got up from the bed, and walked towards the bathroom, stopping to get some things from his suitcase. When he turned around, Chris was standing there, glaring at him hotly. Before Matt could move, Chris's cum-covered hand lashed out and whipped hard against his cheek with a loud, wet, sound. Chris shoved Matt back into the wall, his head connecting and making a weaving crack in the plaster.

"That's a lie. You know you want me!" Chris barked.

"As I see it, I'm in control of myself, and you're just a pathetic little pillow-biter. Just look at you with your own cream leaking down your thighs, and I didn't even touch you."

"Why don't you lick it off for me?" Chris asked. "You know you miss the taste of my cum filling your throat."

"You'd love to have my mouth on you Chris…"

Matt grinned back at him, but Chris could tell it was strained. His own head was aching with the onset of a migraine, and he was tiring of the game, at least this round. The two pinned each other a few more moments, their eyes equally dueling with one another. Matt finally broke away, and managed a snort as he grabbed his towel and bath things.

"I'm gonna shower." He slipped away from Chris and ducked into the bathroom.

The moment Matt had the door closed he leaned against it, his knees weak and buckling on him, as he sank to the floor. He wrapped his hand around his still hard member and tugged at it, only needing a few yanks, before he came over his hand, stuffing his rolled towel into his mouth to keep his climactic cry silent. As he came down from his high, the image of Chris—a mewling mess on the bed as he chewed into the pillow and rolled his hips—still lingered. Chris had gotten to him bad, but at least he'd done a better job of hiding it than Chris had. Matt got to his feet, shakily, and stumbled to the shower, turning it on cold.