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Bitch strap, (noun): A handle sewn into the back of body armor, typically used for dragging those wounded in battle, or forcefully moving someone to a different location.
Ghost had always loved hiking. He loved the fresh air, the breeze on his face, the smell of the leaves, and the chirping of birds. It put his racing mind into a state of peace. Each step brought him closer to inner silence, closer to who he truly was underneath the mask and the scars and the trauma. Even as a small child, he would often take long walks to have an excuse to be out of the house for hours at a time. It was a type of mediation. It was a way for him to separate himself from his body when it ached, and his mind when it hurt.
Unfortunately, this was no relaxing hike, and Ghost was having a difficult time controlling his temper. It had been a long day. The general had dumped a lot of last minute paperwork on him that he needed done by the end of the day, and this training exercise was taking longer than he would have liked. He was trying to calm his mind and focus on the task at hand, trying to slip into that state of calm focus that kept him alive in battle. He scanned the forest floor for anything out of place. The stakes, in this case, were low. This stretch of woods was frequently used for military training, and was rigged with all sorts of nasty surprises. They were tasked with sweeping one of the backwoods paths and disarming anything they found. Everything from pits dug into the dirt to net snares. Nothing lethal, but one misplaced step could and would fuck up his whole day.
He was trying his hardest to focus, lulling his mind into the familiar state of meditative focus, but Soap wasn’t making it easy. He was the kind of man to ramble to fill the silence. He was going on about Eurovision or something. Ghost wasn’t saying a word, just becoming more and more frustrated when Soap wouldn’t shut up. His constant chatter ruined his focus. Normally, he loved working with the man, especially when Soap took the lead and Ghost could sneak glances down at his ass, but Soap was really getting on his nerves right now.
Giving up on the idea of meditating, he allowed himself to take a nice, long glance at the aforementioned ass. He felt a little guilty about it sometimes, but he was sure that if Johnny knew about it, it’d just inflate his ego. While admiring him from behind, he noticed an odd piece of metal sticking out of the leaf litter.
He connected the dots a split second later. “Watch it!”, he shouted. For one horrible moment in his mind, he saw Soap’s foot hit the ground. Without even thinking about it, he reached out, grabbing Soap by the body armor, and he yanked hard. He yanked him probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t care. They both stumbled backwards, away from the landmine. Ghost got his balance first, then stabilized Johnny in his arms.
Soap felt the familiar surge of adrenaline at Ghost’s shouted words. Ghost yanked him back, and he felt himself loose his footing. Before he could go down, Ghost’s arms were there. His back hit Ghost’s chest before he managed to get his feet back under him. He took a moment to breathe deeply. “Careful where you step, Sergeant.” Ghost had meant to growl the words, but to Soap, they sounded more like a purr into his ear. His whole body shivered.
Ghost propped him back up. “Sorry about that, LT.” The words came out softly. He tried to compose himself for a moment, before training his attention on the landmine. None of the landmines buried here were armed with explosives, but they’d still belch out a foul-smelling smoke if it was activated. He took another deep breath and crouched next to the mine, and set about deactivating it. Once he had gingerly dug it out of the dirt, he’d disabled in seconds. He and Ghost were on the move shortly after.
They continued to walk, and it was only after several minutes that Ghost realized that his partner had gone silent. At first, he felt relieved. He tried once more to focus his mind, but there was something there, niggling at the corner of his mind that he just couldn’t get past. Soap’s silence was bothering him just as much as his rambling, if not more. Like a canary in a coal mine, Ghost couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Thinking about it, he wasn’t sure if he’d upset the man when he had handled him so roughly. He made a mental note to check in with him once they got back to base.
Johnny’s mind raced. He was trying to ignore the thrum in his blood that Ghost’s yanking had started. He was fighting an uphill battle to keep his dick in check. His mind wandered, and he wondered what it would be like to have Ghost yank him around and fuck him from behind. He thought of Ghost bending him over the nearest tree stump and fucking him raw and hard, pulling him up by his bitch strap. The same strap he’d just used to yank him away from the landmine. He wondered if Ghost would whisper into his ear, and if it’d be praise or degradation. He thought about being tossed around the forest, the way a dog shakes and throws a chew toy. He imagined the fear and excitement in his stomach at having Ghost loom over him.
Once again, he felt Ghost’s hand wrap around the strap and yank him backwards. This time, there was no stifling the moan that escaped from his lips. He fell all the way backward into Ghost, unable to get his feet to move fast enough. This left them in a position like a trust fall. When he lifted his eyes to meet his superior’s, his face burned in embarrassment. There was nothing in his eyes but a stone cold glare. Glancing down, he saw the tripwire that he had been about to step into. Then he noticed his very obvious bulge.
“Fucking Christ, Johnny.” Ghost’s voice was terrifying when he was angry. He wasn’t a very expressive man, but Soap had come to know the cold edge to his voice that masked the promise of violence. And his eyes, the only thing you could see of his face, they too had a sharpness to them that Soap had come to know well. As ashamed as he was, it sent another pulse through his body and straight into his dick.
Ghost looked down and could see the swelling in Soap’s pants. The pieces clicked together in an instant. He felt a muscle in his jaw tense. He tried very hard to calm himself, but his frustration was getting the better of him. Seeing Soap flustered and half hard had made Ghost’s body much warmer than it had been a moment ago, but they didn’t have the time to deal with it in the way that Ghost would have liked.
Without letting go of the strap on his armor, he pulled him to the nearest tree. Ghost shoved his back against the trunk and pinned him in by his shoulders. He leaned in next to his ear and hissed through gritted teeth, “You are far too distracted right now, and I need you to focus. Neither of us can afford to have our minds on other things.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Soap’s pupils were blown wide and he was breathing hard, like he’d just finished a run. He looked like scared prey, ready to bolt at any moment. Ghost shook himself out of that visual, knowing he’d be revisiting that later in the shower.
Soap’s feeble attempt at lying had Ghost feeling even more agitated than he had been five seconds ago. “Don’t give me that shit,” he snarled, inching his body closer. He could feel Soap’s erection pressing into his leg. “I can feel you getting hard when I yank around like a petulant dog.” Soap let out a huffed breath, his cheeks taking on a light flush of pink. Ghost grabbed his chin and forced him to look squarely into his eyes. “Take care of it, Sergeant. Now.”
Soap’s eyes went wide. “N-now, LT?”
Ghost ground himself onto him, eliciting a small groan from Soap. A small smile curled his lips under his balaclava, being careful not to let it show in his eyes. “Now, Johnny. I’m not going to repeat myself.”
He hesitated. He waited a moment too long, and Ghost had reached his limit. He reached down between them and undid the front of Soap’s pants, allowing his cock to spring free. Ghost refused to look at it. He didn’t want to see it. He knew, if he saw it, that they would be spending far more time in the woods than they were allotted for this exercise. God he wanted to look at it so bad. He wanted to taste it, but not now. Ghost grasped him firmly at the base, and Soap let out a long, unabashed groan.
“Si-ah…What are you doing?” His face had taken on a deep pink blush of embarrassment. Before he could move his hand, Ghost closed every last inch of distance between them, closing his hard, hot thighs around his length.
“I’m helping you focus on the task at hand.” Johnny was sure that this would have the opposite effect, but he wasn’t about to put a stop to any of this.
Still processing what was happening, Soap didn’t move. Becoming impatient once again, Ghost dug both of his hands painfully into Soap’s hips and guided him to thrust. Soap resisted the motion at first, his hips jerking awkwardly, but he soon gave in to the pleasure of being made to fuck himself between the thighs of his superior. The rough fabric of his cargo pants and the way that Ghost was commanding his every motion and his every thought in that moment had him so lost in sensation that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever resurface again.
It wasn’t quite how he’d imagined this going down, but it was close enough to have him whining pathetically, head thrown back against the tree, hips moving with Ghost’s hands. Ghost felt just as solid against him as the trunk of the tree, and he felt completely trapped. Something about it had him needing more. More, more, more. Faster. Fuck, please, faster. He realized that he’d been saying these words aloud. Ghost’s eyes bored into him. He looked angry, hungry. There was nothing sweet or romantic about this moment. Honestly, it barely felt intimate. It felt violent, mechanical, like Ghost was crossing something off his to-do list. It was unimaginably hot.
Before he knew it, he felt his release gathering at the base of his spine. “S-simon. Simon I’m gonna cum,” he whispered between breaths. Quickly and without ceremony, Ghost pulled himself off and wrapped a gloved hand around him. Not even bothering to look down, he jerked him off with rough, forceful strokes that had Soap emptying himself onto the forest floor within moments. Soap’s chest heaved, and strangled groans flew from his lips. Ghost, still refusing to look at his cock, stroked it until he felt it stop spasming and begin to soften.
Ghost released him, and Soap leaned his head backwards against the tree, catching his breath. When he looked up, he saw Ghost bent near the trip wire on the ground, working at disarming it. Noticing a string of Johnny’s release on his glove, he lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked it off. He relished the salty taste of it. Ghost took these moments, crouched and faced away from Johnny, to compose himself. He went into his mind as he worked, and forced himself to think of other things. He calmed the raging in his blood and the fire in his nerves. By the time he stood up again, any physical sign of his arousal was gone.
He turned to face Soap, who had just finished zipping himself up. “Let’s move it, MacTavish.” Ghost started walking again, seeming like he couldn’t care less about what had just happened. “Six miles left. We’ll need to pick up the pace to make up for lost time.” Ghost took the lead for the time being, but at least Soap had a nice view of his ass. Soap hurried to catch up, baffled at his self control. Working with Ghost had always been a bit like working with a stone wall. He really did not like revealing his emotions to anyone. Johnny was amazed at how unaffected he was by everything that had happened. He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved that Ghost hadn’t been affected by his display, or sad that the feelings weren’t reciprocated.
Truthfully, Ghost was far from unaffected. He could still hear Johnny’s moan. He could still his face as he came, the pink flush on his cheeks as Ghost forced him to thrust between his thighs. The look in his eyes just after his release, glassy and blissed out. The pearly string of release on his glove, and its salty taste. All these things painted the inside of Ghost’s eyelids every time he tried to calm his mind into focusing. He was fighting off his own erection for the rest of the hike. His method of meditation to turn off his mind had suddenly turned against him, and Soap was the only thing he saw when his mind went quiet. He forced himself to file these things away for later, when he was alone.
Alone did not come for a very long time. By the time they got back, it was time for dinner, and they parted ways. Soap went to eat with the rest of the 141, while Ghost had endless meetings, a massive stack of paperwork, and a few administrative tasks to be done before he could finish his day. He even had an office space. He ate his dinner there, filling out paperwork. It wasn't until well past midnight, hours after lights out, that Ghost finally packed his things and headed for his room.
Passing into the dorm wing of the compound, he navigated down a series of identical cinder-block halls until he reached his door. Just as he went to unlock it though, he heard a stifled grunt, like someone in pain. He followed the sound down the hall and to a door that had been shut all the way.
There he was, standing with one hand braced against the far wall and the other wrapped around his dick. He hadn’t even bothered to undress from the hike earlier. His pants hung loosely off his hips, and his shirt had ridden up under the armor. The exposed sliver of his back sent a pulse of heat straight through his body.
He opened the door a little further and leaned against the frame. The hunger that he had tried to suppress all day was stirring, and he couldn’t help but admire what he saw. Flexing muscles, labored breathing, flushed skin, a fine sheen of sweat, and those perfect little moans from his perfect little lips. Johnny still hadn’t noticed him.
Ghost cleared his throat and Soap whipped around, swearing. Immediately, Ghost’s eyes traveled down to see what he had denied himself in the woods. His cock looked absolutely mouthwatering. A lovely shade of deep tan that turned a dark blush pink near the tip, glistening with moisture, and it curved ever so slightly to the right.
Ghost huffed in a breath. The air smelled like sex and sweat, even through the mask. He idly wondered how long Johnny had been at it. How many times he’d cum. If he thought of him, moaned his name. “Shouldn't you be asleep?” Ghost’s voice came out low and rough, with an edge of hunger.
“I had some energy I wanted to work off first,” Soap breathed. As if he was being controlled by someone else, Ghost stepped through the door and latched it behind him. “LT?” Ghost tore his eyes away from his leaking cock and stared Johnny in the eyes.
“Don’t stop on my account. I’m just getting settled in for the show.” He pulled out the chair at his desk and sat on it, crossing one leg over the other. He leaned back and allowed his eyes to rake him up and down, taking in every inch. Johnny stared at him, wide eyed. He sputtered out a few half-finished questions that Ghost didn’t bother responding to. He actually found it rather amusing how he could barely finish a sentence when he was this horny.
“Don’t get shy on me now, Serg. What happened to the needy little bitch who’d rut himself between my thighs just to get off?” Ghost heard the words leaving his mouth, but he didn’t know where they were coming from. This was not how he spoke to anyone, even the few people he’d hooked up with in the past. He knew he was an intimidating man, so he made an effort to soften himself in front of strangers he was taking to bed. Something about Johnny got under his skin and made him want to fuck him so thoroughly that he would be ruined for anyone else. He wanted to kiss him like he loved him and fuck him like he hated him. Nothing but Johnny’s complete and utter destruction would do.
Once again, he hesitated. Ghost was more careful with his words this time. He softened his voice and spoke slower. “Johnny, I want to see how you make yourself cum. Can you do that for me?”
This seemed to shake Johnny out of his shock. He nodded, “Aye. If you want a show, I can give you a show.” He crawled onto his bed and arranged one of his pillows beneath him, facing Ghost. He braced his hands on the mattress with the pillow wedged between, and started thrusting. Ghost soaked in the sight of his desperation. He watched as Johnny slowly came apart, his moans becoming more and more pathetic, his cock catching on the folds of his pillowcase. He kept his face cool and impassive as he watched, but his dick strained at his pants in desperation.
He tried to imagine what Johnny was thinking about at that moment. Hopefully he was thinking about the woods. God knows Ghost hadn’t stopped thinking about it. The way Ghost towered over him, trapping him against the tree, giving him no other choice but to cum.
Still humping his pillow, Johnny reached into his nightstand, snapping Ghost out of his thoughts. When he pulled out his hand, he was holding a bottle of lube. Ghost’s stony expression flared with heat, but only for a moment. Johnny’s cock jerked when he saw Ghost’s face twitch. Still the same stone cold stare, but masking a raging hunger.
He stopped his thrusting, just long enough to open the bottle of lube and cover his fingers in it. Then, he braced his dry hand on the bed and brought the other to his ass. He worked a finger inside and groaned. After a moment of adjusting, he started to fuck himself with it, working up a rhythm. It didn’t take long for him to add a second, and then a third. The noises he was making with his hand and his mouth were absolutely obscene, and Ghost knew that his self control was vanishing rapidly.
“Johnny…” He growled in warning.
He blinked up at him from the bed, blearily, lost in his own pleasure.“Simon…” he whimpered.
The last threads of his restraint snapped. ‘Simon…’ Hearing his name from Johnny’s mouth when he looked like this? No way in hell was he going to continue to sit there. He rose to his full height, and Johnny’s eyes immediately flew to Simon’s straining cock. Simon debated taking some clothes off, but decided that it was better if he kept a few secrets for the time being.
He climbed onto the bed, straddling him from behind. Johnny was still fingering his ass, but he was bent over the pillow, still trying to grind into it. Simon dug his fingers into Johnny’s hips. Looking closer, he could see fresh red bruises from how hard he’d grabbed his hips in the woods. It was sick, but it brought him immense pleasure. He eyed the body armor that he still hadn’t taken off. Removing a hand from his hip, he grabbed the strap once again and yanked. He brought Johnny’s back flush with his chest and rested his chin over his shoulder. Johnny moaned directly into his ear, and it sent a jolt through Simon like he’d been electrocuted. This gave him a lovely view of his sweet, leaking cock. Johnny tried to pull his trapped fingers out from between their hips, but Simon grabbed his fingers and pushed them back inside. His pistoning hand was rubbed against Simon’s dick, and he, selfishly, didn’t want that to stop anytime soon.
“Christ Johnny, you pant like such a bitch when you’re horny.” Looking down, he spit onto his cock, then brought the heel of his hand down, pressing into the pillow. Johnny whined and began to thrust faster.
“Fuck, Simon, I’m gonna cum.”
Simon ground his hand down further. “Say my name again, Johnny. You sound so pretty when you moan my name.”
His words sent the man over the edge, his cock spurting ribbons of white onto the pillow. “Simon! Jesus fucking christ Simon” he cried. His body shook as he rode out his orgasm. The way Johnny said his name as he came was the same way people cried out for their savior. A worshiper to his god. Simon withdrew his hand and helped guide Johnny down onto his side, away from the mess. His chest heaved with labored breaths, totally sated and completely spent. Simon stripped the pillowcase off the pillow and used it to wipe up the worst of the mess, tossing it onto the floor when he finished. The pillow would need to be washed too, but he flipped it over to the dry side and placed it under Johnny’s head. He already looked like he was starting to fall asleep.
As rock hard as Simon was, he had to leave. He’d let the man rest, and they’d talk about all this in the morning. He took one last languid look at Johnny and moved to slide off the bed. As he stood, he felt a tugging on the hem of his shirt.
He turned to see Johnny staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my room.”
“What about you?” Johnny’s eyes fell to Simon’s tented pants.
Simon’s stomach gave a funny little flip that he didn’t really want to examine. “You’re barely awake. I can take care of it myself.” He would fuck his hand the same way he had done countless times before. He would imagine that it was him, the same way he had done before. This time, though, he knew his hand wouldn’t be enough. Now that he’d seen Johnny like this and made him cum twice in one day, he didn’t know if his hand would ever be enough again.
Johnny peered at him from under his thick lashes. “Stay, please. Fuck me. I’m already stretched out, you may as well use it.”
A muscle in Simon’s jaw ticked. He really shouldn’t stay. “You’ll fall asleep before I even get all the way in.” He doubted that, but he hoped that he wouldn’t call his bluff.
“It’s alright, I don't mind. You can fuck me while I sleep.” A flare of heat pulsed through Simon at his words, and a dull ache formed in his chest at the trust that Johnny put in him to do such a thing. Simon stared at him in silence, turning it over in his head.
‘Fucking hell, Johnny.” He shook his head in disbelief, but began to disrobe anyway. Boots, socks, pants, balaclava, shirt, leaving only his boxers. As he climbed into bed and cradled him to his chest, he murmured, “You put so much trust in me that I don’t deserve.” Gently, he began to unclasp the straps that held the body armor to his torso, then pulled it off. He followed that immediately by pulling off his pants and boxers that were still tangled around his ankles, then his shirt.
“You haven’t let me down yet, LT.” Simon pulled him into his chest, content for the moment just to feel the skin to skin contact. He was tacky from sweat, and he could smell the woods in Johnny’s hair. He allowed his arm to reach around and wander wherever it pleased. Simon rubbed soothing circles into Johnny’s hips, his abdomen, up his ribcage, and eventually came to rest at his nipples. His fingers grazed something metal, and his cock jerked.
“Piercings, Sergeant?” He asked, still exploring them gently. He was amazed that this was the first he was learning of them. The things that body armor hides.
“Yes, sir.” he replied.
Simon hummed. He twisted the piercing between his fingers, enjoying the way Johnny groaned and arched his back. His ass ground into Simon’s dick and he growled. Removing his hand from the man’s nipple, he grabbed the lube and squirted some into his hand before quickly tugging down the waistband of his boxers.
“I’ll have you know, I have a few piercings myself.” Simon gave himself a swift stroke of lube before rubbing the pierced underside of his cock against Johnny’s lower back. “Count them for me, sweetheart?” He pressed the head into the warm, stretched hole and bit back a moan at his searing warmth. He pushed it in slowly, savoring even this tiny bit of friction. Johnny whined and twisted his body, wriggling in discomfort. Using the hand that wasn’t guiding his cock, he wrapped an arm around Johnny’s writhing torso and braced a hand against his collarbone. Simon could feel Johnny’s heavy, thudding pulse beneath his fingertips. Finally, he had the head pushed in. “Here’s the first one.” He allowed Johnny to sit with it for a moment before he pushed it in.
At this, his writhing increased. “Fuck, Simon, I don’t know about this.”
Simon shushed him and stroked a hand in his hair. “You can do it, I know you can.” He began to thrust gently, shallowly, allowing him to become used to the pressure. After a minute of this, Johnny’s body started to relax again. “There, see? That was one. Here’s the next one.” He pressed in further and felt the next barbel slip into place. This time, Johnny only let out a pained whine.
“Two,” he breathed.
“That’s it, such a good boy.” Again, he stopped for a moment to let him adjust. The animal inside him told him to thrust all the way in, but he squashed the thought immediately. Johnny trusted him, and he wouldn’t betray his trust by making this any more painful than it needed to be. Already, Ghost felt like he was in ecstasy. He began to move again, passing the first two in and out of him.
Simon built up a slow, gentle rhythm. Out: two, one. In: one, two. Out: two, one. Then, without stopping, he pressed in: one, two, three. Johnny barely reacted except to huff out breath.
“Three.”
He wasn’t even halfway, but the feeling of him was like heaven. “Fuck, you take me so well. Like you were fucking made for me.” He didn’t stop this time, just continued his slow rhythm.
It was at this time that Simon noticed that Johnny was hard again, and rubbing himself with one of his hands. Using the hand that wasn’t firmly pressing him into his chest, Simon reached around and replaced Johnny’s hand with his own. He stroked him gently, but firmly, and kept in time with his own thrusting.
Simon pressed a kiss to the exposed inside of Johnny’s neck. “How about two this time, yeah?” On the next thrust inside, he did exactly that.
Johnny clenched around him like a vice grip. HIs whimper mingled with Simon’s moan in the air. “Four and five.”
“Was that alright?”
Johnny nodded, his chest rising and falling with deep, but fast breaths. “It’s just a lot.”
Simon once again stilled his hips. “I’m sorry, you’re almost there.”
Johnny brought a free hand up to where Simon was keeping him pinned in. “Hold my hand?”
“Anything for you.” He lifted his hand so Johnny could place his down, Simon threaded his fingers through his and returned it to his chest.
Then, he focused all of his attention onto rubbing Johnny’s cock until he felt better. It was leaking, and he made sure to clean up every last drop. His thumb toyed with the slit, flicking over it and pressing down. Simon loved to hear how he mewled at the stimulation. This time, it was Johnny who started moving, fucking himself weakly onto Simon’s cock. “Ready?” He asked. Johnny nodded.
He pressed the sixth piercing into him. “Six.” He squeezed around him, and the pressure had Simon swearing and pressing his head into Johnny’s neck. “Sorry, does that hurt?” Johnny mumbled.
“Fuck no, it feels so good. I’m just trying not to hurt you right now. You’re taking me like a fucking pro.”
“You’re not the first dick I’ve had my ass.” Emboldened by Simon’s words, Johnny pushed himself back further, taking another piercing before finally bottoming out. Simon bit down onto his neck and snarled at the intensity of the sensation, his hand temporarily forgetting how to stroke Johnny’s cock. “First dick with jewelry though.” He panted heavily for a moment, then remembered he was supposed to be counting. “Seven.” he grunted.
Ghost took a moment to compose himself before replying, “Lucky number seven.”
“Christ, I’m gonna taste you in my fucking tonsils tomorrow.”
He huffed out a laugh. “I hope that you do. I want you to remember every goddamn second of this the same way that I’m going to. You’ve had me worked up all fucking day, Johnny. Haven’t stopped thinking about how you’d feel squeezing around my cock, how well you’d take me. Truth be told, I’ve wanted this ever since I found out we were paired together.” Simon knew that he was rambling. He was desperately trying to hold on to his last threads of self-control.
Every nerve inside of him was begging him to fuck like an animal. He resisted and returned to the familiar shallow and slow fucking. He allowed each flick of his hips to get deeper and deeper, until he was well and truly fucking him, deep but slow.
Simon shifted their position slightly, and he knew he’d hit the right spot when Johnny’s back arched into him and he let out a long and high-pitched whine. His body jerked with each thrust, and each moan sounded more pathetic than the last. His other hand reached up to fist Simon’s hair, holding onto him as if he were a lifeline. His head had fallen onto Simon’s shoulder, and each whimper went right into Simon’s ear and directly down to his dick.
“So noisy. Don’t want to wake anyone up.” He shifted his hand up and covered Johnny’s mouth. He could feel the breath escaping him in short, quick huffs through his fingers. The harder Johnny squeezed around Simon, the harder Simon squeezed Johnny’s dick.
He moaned through Simon’s fingers. “Si…Simon, I’m gonna cum.”
“Good. Moan my name, I want to hear you say my name again.”
Seconds later, he was emptying himself, clenching hard on Simon’s dick. “Fuck, Simon. Simon. My god.” He sounded like he was sobbing. Both of his hands squeezed into fists, tugging at Simon’s hair and squeezing the blood out of Simon’s fingers.
Hearing his name and feeling Johnny’s pleasure had him following right over the edge, cumming deep inside Johnny’s ass. He filled him up, moaning his name in return. Simon hoped that a piece of himself would be imprinted inside of Johnny forever, inseparably. He knew that Johnny had lodged a place inside his chest, next to his heart, and he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
He pulled out gently. Johnny turned his head to face him. His eyes were glassy from pleasure and half-lidded from exhaustion. “Stay, please. Hold me.”
Simon’s heart squeezed. He wrapped his arms around him and held him close. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”