Work Text:
It’s not like they’ve never done it this way before. It’s just that Carlos usually ends up on top, and TK likes taking it as much as the next guy, and variety is nice but so is having a familiar baseline to fall back on.
However.
TK has some frustration to let out. Carlos is an enthusiastic volunteer. Besides, he looks so pretty on his back like this, cheeks pink and lips parted and chest rising and falling with each of his laboured breaths, that TK wonders why the hell they don’t do this more often.
“Hands above your head,” TK tells him, “and keep them there.”
Carlos complies like there’s nothing he would rather do. He’s got this look in his eyes, soft and pretty and vulnerable, so completely different to TK’s usual brattiness, and it’s– it makes TK breathless, actually. Like he wants to give Carlos the world, but also slap him around a little and make him cry. Fuck, he’s so pretty when he cries.
“You’re gonna stay still and shut up while I ride you, okay?” he continues, rocking his hips against Carlos’ and drinking in the way he bites his lip around a gasp. Pretty . Carlos nods, curling his fingers around one of his wrists over his head, looking all flushed and eager like he wants nothing more than for TK to ruin him. They really, really need to do this more often.
And sure, usually TK loves having Carlos talking dirty to him, filling the silence with the filthiest words and praises, but this time the quiet is somewhat settling. Gets TK into his head like nothing else, guides him down until nothing exists to him but the two of them: Carlos spread out on the bed and TK perched on his hips, the gorgeous strain of Carlos’ arms where they’re stretched up.
He takes his time undressing them both. Carlos is already shirtless, which means TK can sneak in a couple of hickeys to his chest while he works on the drawstrings of his sweats. The obvious bulge in the front of them is deliciously enticing, makes TK’s mouth water , but he resists the urge to seal his lips around it; Carlos makes a pitiful little noise when he realises his pretty cock is being ignored.
“Quiet.”
Carlos’ bottom lip wobbles. TK pulls his sweats and boxers down and off to drop them onto the floor, and– fuck. A drop of precome beads at the head of Carlos’ cock and dribbles down the length. TK sighs as he leans in, cursing his weak will, and laps gently at his slit just to taste. Carlos wails . His hips stay obediently still, but as soon as the sound has left his lips TK pulls back with a frown.
“What did I just say?” he demands. And Carlos tries his absolute best to hold back a sob, he does , but it slips past his bitten lips anyway. TK gives his cock a mean slap just for that. “Shut up. Fuck toys don’t whimper .”
He’s so very proud of Carlos for just scrunching his eyes shut and riding out the pain of the slap, but he doesn’t voice that. Just tugs his shirt off and starts on his own sweats, shuddering at the rush of cold air on his cock– and trying very, very hard to ignore the way Carlos’ eyes go all wide at the sight of it and his tongue darts out over his lips. Maybe TK will fuck his pretty mouth next time.
Working himself open is a rushed affair. He knows it’ll hurt a bit, that Carlos is far too big to take without at least a minute with three fingers, but the desperation burns hot in his gut and Carlos’ cock keeps dripping, and suddenly nothing matters but getting his damn fingers out and his boyfriend’s cock in .
“Try not to come too soon,” he snarks, flicking condescendingly at the head of Carlos’ cock, “but it doesn’t really matter. I’ll just keep going till I’m done, anyway.”
The first tear wells up and slips down Carlos’ cheek. TK pays it no mind, other than to have a mini internal crisis at how fucking hot it is, just half-heartedly squirts some lube over Carlos’ cock and lines himself up.
They’re both holding their breath as he sinks down. Carlos’ eyes flutter shut and his head lolls to the side, all beautifully overwhelmed, and TK– TK gasps . It’s just as tight a squeeze as he expected, not quite painful but just enough so that it’s delectable , so fucking good he can’t get enough. His fingers spasm against Carlos’ chest.
“Fuck, so big –” He sinks down a little further, circling his hips to accomodate the stretch a bit more comfortably; Carlos is all but melted against the bed, stock-still but for the twitch of his eyebrows and the tremble in his bottom lip. TK sucks in a breath. “My useless toy, only good for your cock, huh?” he breathes, digging his nails into the nipple under his hand. That does draw a noise out of Carlos, something so needy and soft TK doubts he even realises he’s made it– so no point reprimanding him for it, then.
By the time TK’s finally fully seated, they’re both breathing hard. It always makes him feel so full , somehow even more so than even his biggest dildo, like Carlos is so deep inside him he can swallow around him. Christ .
He trails his hands over the expanse of Carlos’ chest while he adjusts. Just above the patch of soft curly hair is a spattering of hickeys, some old and some new, and in TK’s humble opinion they’re just begging to be added to. So he leans down– breathing through the change in angle– and seals his lips just below the jut of Carlos’ collarbone to suck and lick and bite a pretty bruise into his skin.
Carlos tips his head back to give him more room. He’s making all these tiny little noises that TK couldn’t hear before over the sound of his own heavy breathing but can now feel the vibrations of against his lips, so sweet it makes him ache . God, his boy is so lovely.
When he finally pulls back to admire his own handiwork, red is already blooming on Carlos’ beautiful brown skin. TK rubs the saliva into it while Carlos’ eyes flutter shut, probably already feeling the enticing ache of the bruise; he’s always been a little bit of a pain slut.
“So pretty,” TK breathes, trailing his thumb down to smear what’s left of the moisture against Carlos’ nipple, “ look at you, fuck.”
Carlos’ big, beautiful brown eyes blink sluggishly up at him. TK’s cock throbs at the dampness in them.
“Gonna cry for me, yeah? Make a mess of yourself?”
Carlos nods jerkily. Yeah, TK knows he will, always gets all teary and pathetic when TK makes him feel good.
He starts rocking his hips with a gasp. While his body has more than adjusted to the stretch, it’s still no small feat to take Carlos’ cock with minimal prep. And Carlos– Carlos is starting to break, teeth digging into his lip as staying quiet gets harder. Good thing that TK’s resolve is getting weaker the longer he stays seated on Carlos’ cock, too, otherwise Carlos would be in for a considerable punishment later.
“So– so good, baby,” TK gasps out, switching from rocking his hips to starting up a proper rhythm. And god , it’s good, although as good as it feels to have Carlos just laying still and letting him take it he’s starting to crave being pinned down and made to really take it. But. Carlos is in too deep for TK to ask that of him and besides, TK’s gonna savour this while it lasts, thank you very much.
He circles his hips a couple times, adjusts to get Carlos’ cock pressing right up against his prostate, and– oh god oh god it’s good. Carlos sniffles up at him, eyes all wide and bottom lip trembling as TK throws his head back and moans. He can feel a flush spreading down his chest, the one Carlos always likes to follow with his tongue, spreads his legs further to get Carlos deeper . Carlos makes a pitiful little sound like it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen; TK doesn’t even tell him off for being noisy.
Instead, he presses his fingers into the bruises on Carlos’ chest and pinches at his nipples. He’s honestly surprised he’s got enough of his wits about him to have the motor control for it, but something about having Carlos under him like this is just getting to his head like nothing else.
“I– ‘m so–” Carlos breaks off on a moan. More tears, shiny and sweet and so, so beautiful, spill down his face. TK scoffs and gives him a sharp, condescending pat on the cheek.
“D-did I say you could speak?” It comes out with far less bite than he intended, but Carlos still reacts as if the words were infused with venom. He shakes his head vigorously, biting back a sob as his eyes well up again and Jesus fucking Christ , he was made for this. “Yeah, that’s– that’s what I thought. Shut up.”
He knows Carlos was just warning him he was getting close, but TK did tell him very explicitly about what would happen if he did come. TK’s thighs are starting to shake but he lifts himself up and drops back down again, again, again, chasing the too-sharp pleasure of his prostate being jabbed and the slight burn of his under-prepped hole. It’s all so fucking good , he’s gonna come soon too if he’s not careful, but– but he needs to make Carlos come first. Just so he can ride him into oversensitivity and watch him sob.
It’s really not long at all until Carlos starts trembling, fingers tightening almost painfully around his wrist. TK spares a thought for how good he’s being, keeping his hands above his head like this still, but it’s very abruptly replaced with white noise when Carlos’ cock knocks just perfectly against that spot inside him.
“Oh f– baby –” TK’s fingers dig hard into Carlos’ skin, one on his chest and the other his shoulder, undoubtedly hard enough to leave bruises. And oh, isn’t that just a wonderful thought? Carlos’ honey brown skin, littered with not only hickeys but pretty purple bruises in the shape of TK’s fingertips, the way he’d whimper and twitch away whenever TK teases at them again–
“I know you’re so close,” TK breathes, doing little figure-eights with his hips because he knows it makes Carlos melt , “come on, come for me, please–”
If Carlos is unsettled by the change in TK’s approach to topping him, he doesn’t let it show. In fact, he probably doesn’t have room in his head for anything other than pure, overwhelming pleasure, just– just TK’s dumb fuck toy. His eyes roll back as TK clenches meanly around him, thighs trembling a little harder with the effort of not moving , and before either of them know it he’s coming with the sweetest, prettiest whine and a tiny buck of his hips.
Warmth spreads through TK’s body– both from the come spilling inside him and the gratification of making his beautiful, beautiful boy feel good. Carlos shudders through his orgasm, tears slipping past his closed eyes as he whimpers and gasps, trying his best to stay as quiet as he can. But TK just leans in to kiss at his mouth, whisper soft words of praise against his lips that make them wobble and grow damp as more tears wet them; the salt tastes like heaven from his skin, and TK laps it up eagerly.
“So good, coming for me like this,” he gasps out, sitting up again to resume the rhythm of his hips. Carlos watches him with damp, hazy eyes, limp against the bed until the overstimulation starts to make him tense and gasp. And god, isn’t it a pretty sight.
TK’s so– so close just looking at him, fumbles for a grip on his cock because it really, really isn’t going to take long.
“Please,” Carlos whimpers, “please, please –”
Oh, TK’s never going to get over listening to his pretty boyfriend beg for his come. He gives himself fast, almost frantic strokes, picks up the pace even more when his bouncing starts to lose its rhythm. The dual stimulation is just wonderful , and paired with Carlos’ teary eyes gazing up at him he couldn’t have held his orgasm back if he tried.
Clenching down around something so big while he comes feels like heaven. TK gasps through it, eyes rolling back as he spills rope after rope of come all over Carlos’ stomach and chest, painting his skin white, and it’s– so fucking hot, how is just that so hot? TK strips his cock until overstimulation burns bright behind his eyelids, and then braces himself with both hands on Carlos’ chest to catch his breath.
“Holy shit.”
Carlos’ breath of laughter is a little damp. He still hasn’t moved his hands from above his head so TK reaches up and takes hold of one of his wrists, so gentle as he guides it back down. Carlos winces at the stiffness in his muscles.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he breathes, breaking into this blinding grin as TK brings his hand up to press a kiss to the delicate inside of his wrist. TK preens a little at how well-fucked and sated he looks.
It’s afterwards, when Carlos is curled around him in bed like a limpet, that TK breathes a long, happy sigh. Every hint of frustration has completely left his body, leaving him all sleepy and soft and satisfied.
“How was it really?” he asks, running his fingers through Carlos’ sweaty hair. Carlos makes a little noise into the crook of his neck.
“ So good ,” he breathes, almost reverent, and presses a kiss to TK’s skin. TK laughs breathlessly.
“You’re totally terrible at being submissive, you know that right?” He gives Carlos a playful jab in the ribs. “I tell you to be quiet, and you’re all moaning and whining and begging me–”
Carlos cuts him off with an indignant huff.
“I saw the way you were looking at me.” His voice has gone all raspy, the way it always does after sex, and TK drinks it in like the finest wine; there’s nothing quite like tangible evidence of how good he makes his boyfriend feel.
“You got me,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into Carlos’ hair, because yeah: he’s sure the look on his face reflected every bit how enamoured he is, “you got me.”