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Mac is stuffing the straw back into the crate when he hears his name from across the bar. It’s quiet enough that he almost doesn’t notice it, thinks he might have imagined it. But there it is again, that soft utterance of Mac , in a voice that’s both familiar and strange in its gentleness. Mac doesn’t think he’s ever heard Dennis talk to him like that.
He looks up from his crouched position in front of the crate to see Dennis lurking over by the restrooms, eyes fixed on him. He still has that painful sort of fixed expression from earlier, his jaw set tight in his effort to keep his face neutral. But his eyes are sharp, piercing as ever, and trained on Mac as if with singular purpose.
Mac looks over to the bar, where Dee is arguing with Charlie over whose name has the most rhyming potential, and Frank is dipping a spit-soaked finger into the powdered sugar bag and licking it clean over and over again. They don’t seem to have heard Dennis calling Mac’s name, or else they are choosing to ignore it.
“What’s up, dude?” Mac asks, approaching his roommate. On closer inspection, Dennis almost looks nervous, tense, vulnerable. He’s still holding the RPG.
“Hey, man. Can I, uh, show you something in the, in the ladies’ room real quick?” Dennis says, and his teeth are a bit clenched, his jaw set, but his tone is still uncharacteristically soft. Despite all the tension in his body, Dennis’s voice remains at odds with the rest of him. After a pause, he throws in a “please” for good measure.
“Yeah, sure man,” Mac says. “What’s up, is there something wrong with one of the toilets now that we’ve been getting female customers or something?”
“What?” Dennis says, shaking his head. “No, Mac, there’s nothing wrong with the toilets. I just, uh. Wanted to show you something. In the ladies’ room . You know?” His brows are raised, and he’s peering up at Mac through his lashes with this expression that reads like he’s expecting Mac to catch some hidden meaning in his words. But Mac’s not too good at picking up on things like that. Now it’s his turn to get nervous.
“I - Okay, Dennis. Sure.”
Dennis gingerly lays the RPG on a nearby hightop as if he were putting down an actual, real-life baby, turns to Mac, and lets out a sharp exhale of breath, setting his shoulders as if he’s steeling himself. Then he grabs hold of Mac’s hand and tugs him toward the restrooms. Mac stares in surprised silence at Dennis’s bony fingers, hooked into the gaps between his own and gripping him tightly, and allows Dennis to lead him wordlessly through the swinging door. One last look over his shoulders before the door closes behind him reveals that the rest of the gang are still steadfastly ignoring them, and Mac can’t decide if he feels more relieved or disappointed.
As soon as the door is closed, Dennis is on him, pushing Mac bodily against the edge of the sink and pressing their mouths together so hard that it’s kind of painful. Mac gasps, and Dennis shoves his tongue quickly past the O of his lips to twist around Mac’s. Mac nearly topples back into the mirror with the force of it and has to grab the edges of the sink to steady himself. As Mac joins in the kiss, snaking his tongue along Dennis’s in his mouth, he remembers Dennis mentioning on a few different occasions that the ladies’ room would be the best place in the bar to hook up, since it’s the only room that remains consistently clean.
“Take off this ugly shirt,” Dennis breathes, heavy and hot, into Mac’s mouth, around his tongue. His shaking fingers have already unfastened half of the buttons. “I don’t understand why you still wear these hideous things now that you're hot again, Mac, honestly. I can’t believe I’m about to blow a guy wearing a Hawaiian print shirt.” The last part is so quiet that Mac’s pretty sure Dennis is saying it more to himself than to Mac, so he doesn’t respond. Instead, he wordlessly wraps his arms around Dennis’s shoulders and reconnects their mouths, slipping his tongue out to tease and flick at Dennis’s. Dennis whimpers and fumbles with the last two buttons, to Mac’s immense satisfaction.
Once Dennis finally gets the last of the buttons and yanks the shirt off of Mac’s shoulders, he drops to his knees and starts tugging at Mac’s belt. Mac can feel a hot flush blooming across his cheeks as he watches Dennis’s tongue dart out to lick away a bead of sweat pooled above his top lip. Dennis’s eyes are wide, buggy, and trained on the twitching bulge in front of his face, where Mac’s cock is rapidly swelling and tenting his pants beneath his fingers.
Dennis finally works the belt open and undoes Mac’s fly. He slides a hand down the ticklish bit of belly just below Mac’s naval and slips his hand past the elastic band of Mac’s briefs to grab hold of Mac’s cock. Mac hisses, tensing his abdomen to prevent himself from thrusting forward into Dennis’s hand like some kind of needy slut. Dennis pulls Mac’s cock and balls out from their confinement, yanking his pants and underwear down just enough to allow for it. Mac can feel the cool air against the top of his asscheeks.
Mac always thought that being the one on your knees would make you the vulnerable one in these types of situations. Yet even as he towers over Dennis, watching him size up his swollen dick with a hard, calculating expression isn’t making Mac feel powerful so much as self-conscious. Despite all the weight he lost, Mac still has a little pocket of belly fat just around his belly button that never quite went away, along with the barest hint of love handles. Mac wonders if Dennis can see how ripped he is underneath all the fat.
Dennis suddenly sits back on his heels a bit, gazing up at Mac with the same scrutiny he’d just had on his dick a moment before, and Mac can feel himself blushing like a goddamn schoolgirl. Which pisses Mac off, honestly, because just because he’s out now doesn’t mean he’s gotta turn into some nervous little bitch everytime he looks at someone he has - someone he’s into. Sexually. For his body. And his dick. Because Mac’s okay with being into that kind of shit now. Anyway.
“Hey,” Dennis says, like he’s trying to get Mac’s attention. Like Mac hasn’t been goddamn staring at him this entire goddamn time, watching his every move, since they were - since they first stepped into this goddamn bathroom. “ Hey . You don’t - I’m not - you can, you know. Stop flexing for me. You don’t have to, uh, try and impress me right now. So you can relax.” He sounds only a little exasperated, though, that affectionate sort of irritation. Still, though, Mac can’t just relax , not with Dennis on his knees in front of him: thighs pressed against shins; hands rubbing soothing, teasing circles on the clenched, meaty flesh of his ass; chin resting coyly on his navel. How can Dennis, of all people, tell Mac to goddamn relax? At a time like this, no less? Mac’s dick is already so hard that it’s pointing straight up and poking Dennis in the throat.
Dennis doesn’t wait for Mac to obey him before he pulls back and licks teasingly at the crown of his cock. Mac sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and clamps down on the impulse to let out a long, keening moan. Dennis keeps Mac’s dick, sharpening his tongue to a point and wiggling it against the hole. After a few minutes of this torture, Dennis wraps a hand around the base to hold it steady and starts working the glans, tracing along the seam where Mac’s foreskin is stretched tight, still caught above the flared ends of the tip. He slowly works the foreskin back until the entire head is exposed, an angry shade of red and shining wet with Dennis’s spit. Mac watches Dennis stretch his mouth wide, covering his teeth with his fat, purple lips, and lean forward to -
“Hey, Den?”
Dennis looks up at him, his gaping mouth only centimeters from connecting with Mac’s dick, and raises his eyebrows questioningly. He continues forward, his lips finally making glorious contact with the swollen head of Mac’s cock, and -
“Can I ask you a question?”
Dennis’s nostrils flare a bit, but he doesn’t pull back to respond. “Wha’ ish i’, Mach?” he asks, his gruff voice ending little vibrations up Mac’s cock.
“Just, you know,” Mac says, hating himself just a little bit because why the fuck does he have to ask this right goddamn now? “Why, uh. Why are we - why are you doing this?”
The look Dennis shoots Mac is incredulous, to say the least. His eyebrows alone are practically screaming up at him, Do you really wanna do this right now , of all times? He pulls off of Mac’s cock with a slurpy, wet pop that has to be intentional, Jesus Christ, and he says, “I just wanted show you how much I love the, uhh, the RPG, Mac. And I wanted to give a proper thank you for it.”
“Oh, uh. Okay,” Mac says, and then, “You’re welcome?”
Dennis quirks an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Mac buries his face in his hands. How can Mac be the only one feeling completely mortified right now? It’s not like he’s even the one stuffing his face with cock, just to thank a buddy for a goddamn gift, for Christ’s sake. As Dennis slurps Mac’s cock back into his mouth, Mac can’t help but feel a little weird about something, but he can’t quite place it. He peeks out from between his fingers to look down at Dennis, whose eyes are screwed shut in concentration. Despite the apparent effort in his expression, he’s not actually all that good at sucking dick. Now, Mac’s not picky when it comes to bathroom head, but there’s only so much teeth-scraping a man can take.
“You suck at this,” Mac huffs, his lower ab muscles fluttering with the effort of staving off an embarrassingly fast-approaching orgasm. Dennis looks up sharply at Mac, his expression dark, and pushes himself forward on Mac’s cock until he can feel himself bump against his goddamn uvula. He almost immediately pulls back, stuttering and coughing around the head. Honestly, if Mac weren’t gasping from the pleasure of it, he would have laughed.
“Fuck you,” Dennis rasps, before taking Mac back down and trying once more to open his throat for him, this time with marginally better results.
Mac feels tempted to keep giving him shit, but Dennis’s apparent lack of experience in the blowjob department is oddly comforting. Not to mention hot as shit. Again and again, Dennis presses his mouth forward until his lips hit pubes, until the head bumps against the back of his throat, then holds himself there until he can’t suppress his gag reflex any longer and has to pull back. Each time feels like he’s able to last a little longer than the time before. Mac can’t do anything but sit back and watch silently, reverently, as Dennis breaks his throat in for Mac’s cock. Almost painfully slowly, Dennis’s throat gives way to Dennis’s will. By the time the flared tip is fully lodged in the tight passage of Dennis’s throat, Mac is huffing with the exertion of not busting a nut straight down into Dennis’s belly.
“Ah, shit , dude,” Mac gasps, eyes welling up with tears for no goddamn reason , “I think I might be - I’m about to shoot, man, oh goddamn it, fuck - ” He pushes at Dennis’s forehead to signal to him that he should hurry up and pull off, but Dennis is having none of it. He grabs two handfuls of Mac’s ass and yanks him forward and back, forward and back, fucking his own face with Mac’s dick. Mac, taking the hint, gasps and grabs Dennis’s head in both hands, fucking into the hot, wet o of Dennis’s lips in earnest. Dennis's eyes are wide open now, pupils dilated, eyes shining with tears, and he’s staring right up into Mac’s eyes, watching his face as Mac wrecks his uvula. It’s a look that’s got Mac feeling like he’s the one getting penetrated.
Mac can feel Dennis moaning more than hear it, and it’s not until just now that Mac notices the way Dennis is grinding his own hard-on into the bathroom floor. It only takes a few seconds for Mac to come, exploding down Dennis’s throat. The pleasure of it is sharp, almost painful, shooting through his guts and his groin and his chest. The feeling is too much, too strong, and Mac is choking on it, his heart squeezed tight and pounding arrhythmically against his ribcage. Dennis lets out a gurgled grunting noise as Mac fills him up with pulse after pulse of come, emptying his balls and his feelings into Dennis’s open, welcoming mouth.
Dennis swallows. Mac gulps.
By the time Mac finishes pumping the last few spurts of his jizz into mac’s stomach, Mac realizes that Dennis is still squirming on the floor, pushing weakly against his quads. Mac slumps back against the mirror, spent, and Dennis jerks his head free of Mac’s loosened grasp, coughing and sputtering and moaning and whining. He wraps his arms tightly around Mac’s thigh, scoots forward until he’s straddling Mac’s foot, and starts grinding against his shin. He’s an absolute goddamn wreck. Mac watches in silent incredulity as Dennis buries his tear- and jizz-streaked face into the fabric of Mac’s trousers, nuzzling and rubbing against his thigh like a goddamn cat in heat. It’s pretty overwhelming to watch, so Mac reaches down and smooths an open palm against the sharp angles of Dennis’s cheek, pulling his face up toward him and running a thumb across the bottom of his eyelid. Black makeup shit smears all over the goddamn place, but Mac kind of likes it whenever Dennis cries like this. It makes him seem a little more…something. Mac’s not sure what the right word is. And yeah, Dennis’s eyes probably just welled up from all the gagging he just did, but Mac can use his imagination.
Mac slides his hand around the back of his head and tugs gently in a wordless command for Dennis to stand, and Dennis complies, somehow managing to hoist himself up on shaky legs without ever once separating his throbbing dick from Mac’s leg. Mac pulls Dennis in for a kiss, and Dennis positively keens against Mac’s mouth, his grinding turning into flat-out humping. He grabs tightly at Mac’s hips and frantically rides his leg, moaning and panting open-mouthed around Mac’s tongue. It can’t take more than fifteen seconds before Dennis is opening his mouth so wide that he completely engulfs Mac’s entire mouth within the o of his lips. Just fifteen seconds, and Dennis is gasping and grunting through his own orgasm, his hips jerking sharply against Mac’s thigh and blasting hot come into the Y of his Y-fronts. Mac watches the dark spot bloom and spread across the front of Dennis’s pants, feels it seeping through layers of fabric until it reaches his own bare skin.
Mac isn’t sure what to do now, so he rubs soothing circles into Dennis’s back as he struggles to catch his breath. Dennis is panting, open-mouthed, into the crook of Mac’s shoulder, smearing various salty fluids everywhere and raising goosebumps in Mac’s skin. Every intake of breath is shaky - sniffly, even, and Mac keeps expecting them to be followed up by a sob or a whimper, or something. But every exhale is like a sigh - harsh, yes, and rough in Dennis’s desperation to clear his lungs and make room for another breath - but still. Eventually, Dennis’s breathing evens. His face dries, still nestled in the crook of Mac’s neck.
“That was - ” Mac starts, unsure of what to say. Good? Incredible? Messy? Sexy? Wet? Confusing? “ - unexpected.” Dennis pulls his head back to give Mac a look, but the effect is diminished by the crusty film of jizz, tears, and smeared makeup. Mac reaches up and runs a nail gently over a flake of come mixed with black stuff on Dennis’s cheek, lightly scratching it away. Dennis takes Mac’s wrist into his clammy, shaking fingers and nuzzles against it, eyes never leaving his. There it is again, that sharp stabbing feeling in Mac’s chest like when he was jizzing before. Like his lungs and his heart are banging and having an orgasm.
Mac looks away first. Dennis drops his hand.