Sorry for the late update! This was the most difficult scene I've ever written. EVER.
Warning: this scene is rated NC-17!
A moment later they were on the bed, a writhing tangle of arms and limbs.
Mikey’s sock-covered foot pushed Zach off him and onto his back with a resounding thud.
“Is that the best you can do, Zach?”
The bed creaked menacingly from his movements,
“I’m not the one who’s naked.”
“… Yet.” He leaned to Zach’s neck, nipping at to get a taste.
In response he got a light shove.
“Covering them is a bitch.”
“Don’t even think of covering it, or I’ll leave a stronger one next time.” Mikey pulled at the dark skin with his teeth.
“Fuck no.” Zach angrily shoved him away and sat up.
“Don’t be such a cocktease.”
Zach glared at him, then sat up and irritably moved his body off the bed.
At this, Mikey gave a disgruntled sigh, “Well, then what’s stopping you besides your newfound hatred of hickies?” the mattress squeaked as he sat up and moved behind Zach, snaking an arm around his stomach.
"I don’t know.”
“Is it Gentry?”
“I don’t know.”
He could almost feel him there in the corner, sitting with crossed arms and wide eyes. Warching every move. Every inch. Every second. As if to say “You wouldn’t.”
“What,” Mikey slipped a hand into Zach’s boxers, “does he keep you on an invisible leash?”
“No… it’s not that.”
“This feels good, doesn’t it?” Mikey murmured, pressing his face against Zach’s back, “Come on, I can tell it’s been a while. Get back into bed.”
An invisible leash? Good one.
More like a set of police-grade handcuffs.
Zach sighed heavily and crawled back onto the mattress, exchanging a heated look with Mikey. Well?
“You have nothing to lose.” Mikey murmured, and Zach gave a curt nod before sliding his fingers into his hair and pulling him into a kiss. It was awkward at first, all that licking, sucking and kissing with deliberate precision. When it ended he moved away and carefully studied Mikey’s face, the soft flush and quiet smile. And in return, Mikey leaned in, brushing against Zach’s lips with a virgin-soft kiss.
“You’re so cute.”
Zach sharply inhaled the familiar smell of shampoo as he pulled away, but couldn’t taste
him on his lips. That was strange… no taste?
“Tell me that next time I flip over being called me faggot.”
“You’re my faggot.”
Mikey’s hands felt hot against his skin, sliding under his shirt then awkwardly pulling it over his head. Right after, those salty lips caressed against his, each kiss longer and more passionate than the other. Vaguely Zach thought to himself that if things continued in this way, there would be a wet spot on his bed. Mikey leaned back and Zach mounted him; licking down his stomach, caressing the too-soft skin in search of something different, anything. A mark that would make him forget the bumpy smoothness of a healed scar, the deathly yellow-blue color of an aging bruise, the dizzying pattern of light freckles on white skin; that one vulnerable thing that set Mikey apart, the imperfect reminder that he was human and as breakable as anyone.
But there was nothing to grab or flick over, no scar, bruise or freckle; just unnervingly even white skin, bland saliva and the manufactured smell of shampoo.
So in final frustration he curved his fingers into Mikey’s thighs, spreading them apart and pushing a finger inside. The suppressed whimper and tight warmth he felt filled him with an uneasy satisfaction.
“Fuck …” Mikey grunted, tossing his head back.
One, two, three thrusts. Zach reached for the lube in his beside drawer without thinking, and marveled at how this came to him so easily, yet felt as stiff and unnatural as the self-conscious nagging in his gut.
The rain pounded harder, intermingling its fury with his movements.
“What is it?” Zach scissored his fingers apart and Mikey doubled over onto his chest.
“Oww…” he grunted, “and to think you were playing shy just a few seconds ago…”
“Do you still think I’m cute?” Zach murmured, licking lower.
Mikey propped himself up on his elbows and grinned, “You don’t like being called cute? You look pretty cute sucking me off.”
“Kittens; babies... and sniveling virgns... are cute. I’d rather be a gun... then I could shoot people down.”
“That’s so silly.”
The bed broke in two with a sudden, loud crack. The impact was so great Mikey was hurled against Zach, who fell back against his stomach.
Here they were, sandwiched between the halves of a broken bed, the blanket half-heartedly covering their smoldering bodies.
But before either one could give the congratulatory “Great,” the door flung open.
“Zach, are you---”
Mikey waved ineptly and Zach took a very deep breath.
Delilah stood there for an hour-long minute, her mouth wide dropped open at the sight of her son, sweaty, naked and disheveled with a naked white boy clinging to him in the middle of a broken bed.
Mikey gave Zach a look, and in turn he looked to Delilah.
He lifted a finger in the air, “Don’t move.”
Discomfort surged through him as he pulled himself back onto his feet and half-hazardly shuffled towards the computer. Delilah and Mikey watched in uncomfortable disbelief as the turned on the printer, which whirred to life to turn out five sheets of paper. Zach wordlessly scooped them into his sweaty hands.
Without a word of explanation, he handed them to his wide-eyed mother.
“Yeah uh, Mom, this is Mikey. Mikey, this is my mom. Any questions you might have are answered on that paper. I’m going to take a shower now.”
That said, he snaked out the door.