Boyf Riends Smuts

Game Over

He feels himself getting hard already as he's stretching himself open, quickly working himself up enough to take a second finger. It doesn't take long for Michael to get to his house, but it feels like it's taking forever. Knowing that Michael is on his way, his fingers aren't enough, he needs more. He scissors his two fingers, lips falling open in a perfect 'o' shape as he whines softly to himself.

God, Michael needs to hurry up. Truthfully, Jeremy doesn't know what got into him when he got the idea of Michael coming over at three in the morning for the sole purpose of fucking him. But when he did, he couldn't let it go, and maybe that was a good thing. At three fingers, he arches his back off the bed, subconsciously mumbling Michael's name to himself even though he isn't there to hear it.

Michael is big, but Jeremy has taken him enough times to know that he's ready. As if on cue, he hears Michael's PT Cruiser pull up in the driveway and he scrambles to his window to unlock it. It's been a while since Michael snuck in to play late night video games, but surely he'll remember how to climb up on the car in the driveway and grab the side of the porch overhang to pull himself up on the roof.

Jeremy waits anxiously by the window, laughing quietly to himself as Michael struggles to swing his leg up on the overhang. After quite a bit of grappling desperately at the roof, Michael makes it to the window safely and Jeremy opens it up for him to crawl inside. He's still laughing, and Michael shoves his shoulder for it. "Shut up you asshole," Michael mumbles, grabbing Jeremy's shoulders and shoving him towards the bed.

Jeremy lets Michael push him down on the mattress so he's lying on his back with Michael on top of him, who is still fully clothed. He's wearing Jeremy's favorite red sweatshirt, the one with the rainbow flag patch sewn onto the arm, and a pair of ugly basketball shorts that he probably slipped on right before he left. "Can't believe you made me come over here just to fuck you, at three in the fucking morning," Michael whispers, the palms of his hands digging sharply into his shoulders, pinning him down. "You couldn't even wait until the morning. You couldn't even wait until we were alone ." Michael leans down to kiss him, but it isn't sweet or slow. It's punishing, the bite of his teeth on his bottom lip, the pressure of his mouth pushing against his own. Jeremy moans against him, taking it gratefully. "Your dad could hear us," Michael says, his voice still low, breath coming out hot against Jeremy's lips.

"We'll be quiet," Jeremy assures him again, a part of him wishing that Michael would just get on with it. He feels so empty and he's still growing harder, his cock trapped between his and Michael's chests.

"Shut up," Michael demands, making Jeremy flinch at the harshness of his tone. He isn't playing around anymore. He's being completely serious, his expression stone cold. Jeremy feels Michael's breath on the left side of his neck, leaving the tiny hairs there standing up when he speaks. "You make a sound," he starts, then moves over to the right side, mouth right against his ear. "And it's game over."

Jeremy almost comes right then.

Leaning back on his knees, Michael has Jeremy flip over so his stomach is against the bed. He's still naked and he's so exposed in front of Michael. Jeremy buries his head against the bed, waiting patiently for Michael to just touch him. There's a finger tracing his spine, going down to his ass, until he's prodding at his hole. Jeremy bites his tongue. "Hmm, looks like you did get yourself ready for me. Good boy." Jeremy beams at the praise.

"You're so pretty like this, already open for me. Too bad you're such a slut." The sound of that word on Michael's seemingly innocent tongue still gives Jeremy chills. "I don't even think you deserve this, you're just a needy whore. I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for me. I don't even have to let you come."