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As soon as they get past the threshold of the—their—apartment, Mac strips off his shirt. He can’t get Dennis’ words from the bar out of his head, because he knows it’s different this time. Dennis can’t think that he’s fat again; he can’t go back to that time when every glance from Dennis was laced with disgust, when Dennis would only eat one meal a day out of some reactionary need to prove a point.
“I haven’t—it’s actually cultivating mass this time, Den, it’s not—” He’s cut off by the touch of Dennis’ fingers against his stomach. It’s the first time Dennis has touched him in ten months; Mac can’t suppress a shudder.
“Whose gym membership were you using while I was gone?” Dennis’ voice sounds rough, and Mac can barely concentrate on the words while Dennis is tracing the outline of each abdominal muscle, nails scratching lightly at his skin.
“I—got my own,” he stammers out. “You know I’m still gay, right?”
“Mm,” Dennis hums, raising an eyebrow at the non-sequitur. Of course: Mac is being stupid. This probably isn’t a sexual thing for Dennis—he’s just appreciating another dude’s physique. There’s nothing gay about that. It doesn’t matter that Dennis is staring at Mac’s chest like he wants to devour it. It doesn’t matter that his next words are, “You look—it’s—good.”
Mac knows Dennis can feel the shiver that runs through him at the compliment. It’s mortifying, especially when Dennis looks up to meet his eye. “What are you doing?” he manages to say. His voice cracks.
Dennis, predictably, doesn’t answer. He maintains excruciating eye contact as his hands roam upwards. When his fingers brush over Mac’s nipples, he’s helpless against the outtake of breath, the jolt of his hips forward.
“You could probably lift me up for real now,” Dennis says. His voice is low, both in volume and pitch. Mac’s skin feels overheated, and for all the strength Dennis pointing out he still feels powerless under the light, teasing touches. “Wouldn’t even break a sweat.”
Mac highly doubts that, considering how much he’s sweating right now, but he appreciates the vote of confidence. He nods, mute.
“Why’d you do it?” Dennis asks.
“It was for the gang, I thought we could use it.”
“Bullshit.” Dennis pinches one of his nipples to emphasize the reprimand, and Mac bites his lip so hard against a moan that tears spring to his eyes.
“Needed a distraction,” he gasps.
“From what?”
Mac knows his face is burning red, but he’s always struggled to lie to Dennis. “Missing you.”
“And when that didn’t work, you started banging a sex doll,” Dennis smirks, “that looked like me. That’s really sweet, Mac.”
“Please,” Mac says, barely even knowing what he’s asking for.
“You never could control yourself,” Dennis says, but he doesn’t sound disapproving. He’s looking down at the clear outline of Mac’s cock through his pants. Dennis’ lips are still quirked upwards and Mac doesn’t know whether to be more mortified or turned on. He still thinks this must be some new way for Dennis to humiliate him, but his libido doesn’t care. “Hey, Mac?”
Dennis’ hands have migrated to Mac’s upper arms, where they’re attempting to wrap around the swell of his biceps. It’s doing wonders for Mac’s concentration. “Yeah?”
“Take your pants off.”
“What?”
Dennis rolls his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
Not particularly. “Den, you’ve been gone for—”
“Let me put this another way,” Dennis interrupts. “I’m gonna prove to you that I can get you off better than a goddamn sex doll, okay? So go to the bedroom and take your clothes off. Please.”
“Oh.” Mac sort of feels like his consciousness is hovering somewhere outside his body. “You…want to? Have sex with me?”
“Don’t make me change my mind,” Dennis snaps. He finally steps out of Mac’s space, running a hand through his own hair. The air feels colder in his absence.
“Okay.” Mac shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Can I, like, kiss you, then?”
Dennis starts, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “I’d—” He cuts himself off. “Sure.”
This time, it’s Mac who steps closer, reaching out a hesitant hand to settle on Dennis’ neck. He can feel the pulse fluttering there, a contrast to Dennis’ calm exterior.
“Get on with it,” he murmurs, but there’s an unsteadiness to his voice that instils confidence in Mac, makes him grin.
“You’ll wait,” he says, and the words are as much a revelation to himself as they are a taunt.
“Shouldn’t have to.” And, in the end, it’s Dennis who bridges that small gap between them. He leans in and it’s almost chaste, the way he kisses Mac—like they’re teenagers on their first date instead of middle-aged men who’ve known each other for decades. Mac pulls him closer, the palm of his left hand fitting against the small of Dennis’ back. Dennis’ hands return to their rightful place on Mac’s chest, seemingly unable to stay still; Dennis traces over every muscle, every inch of bare skin. The touches are still too light, too fleeting to do anything but tease. Mac’s lips open on a whine and Dennis licks into his mouth.
“Do it—touch me properly,” he says between open-mouthed kisses.
“Bedroom first,” Dennis breathes. “Won’t be able to stop.”
Mac pulls away, wide-eyed and panting. He moves toward the bedroom, shedding his pants and underwear as he goes. When he turns around to flop onto the bed, he sees that Dennis is still fully clothed. He frowns.
“That’s unfair.”
“Deal with it.” Dennis’ eyes are locked on his dick, which is embarrassingly hard and flushed red. Mac valiantly resists the urge to squirm under the intensity of Dennis’ gaze. “Sit at the edge, okay?”
Mac scrambles to comply, heart hammering in his throat when he watches Dennis sink to his knees. It’s not a position he’d ever expected to see Dennis in; even when he’d fantasized about this—and he can admit that, now, that he fantasized—he’d imagined Dennis being more demanding than giving. Considering the sex tapes, he doesn’t think he can be blamed for the assumption. Although there were all those rumors about Dennis in college…
“Hey, pay attention to me.” Dennis pinches his thigh.
“Did you really suck all that dick in college?” Mac asks.
“You heard about that?” Dennis is mouthing the words against his skin. It’s very distracting. “Did you believe it?”
“I didn’t—used to,” Mac manages to say.
Dennis kisses him just above his knee, the gesture unexpectedly tender. “We’ll see whether you think I’m a beginner after this,” he says, and without any additional warning he’s sucking the head of Mac’s dick into his mouth.
“Oh,” Mac says. “Fuck.”
His hands clench into the bedsheets and his toes curl into the carpet in at the hot, wet suction of Dennis’ mouth. He can barely bring himself to keep his eyes open—seeing that it’s Dennis down there adds a layer of intensity that feels like it’s rushing through him, electrifying his entire body. He’s been with plenty of dudes in Dennis’ absence, making up for lost time, but he hasn’t actually cared about any of them—not the way he cares about Dennis. He wasn’t in love with any of them.
Dennis pulls back, his lips already puffy and spit-slick. “You can touch me, bro,” he says. “You don’t have to—” He gestures at Mac’s hands and the sheets bunched up in them.
“Yeah, sure,” Mac says, and his voice is hopelessly breathy. Dennis’ answering smile is arrogant, makes Mac squirm.
When Dennis returns to bestowing little kitten-licks to the head of his cock, Mac takes the suggestion and slides a hand into Dennis’ hair. He knows Dennis likes to have someone petting at his hair in non-sexual circumstances, so he’s hoping it’s something that carries over into the bedroom. From the little satisfied noise Dennis makes, sliding his mouth further down, his hunch is correct. It feels good to know something that makes Dennis feel good, almost instinctively.
He's so busy feeling pleased with himself that he’s taken by surprise when Dennis hums around his dick, the vibration overwhelming. His hand tightens and his hips shudder forward. Dennis pulls off, coughing.
“You could, uh, fuck my face.” His voice is shot to hell. “If you want.”
Dennis is still fully clothed, but Mac can see the way he’s shifting around, the telltale bulge of his dick. He grins down at him. “You want me to,” he says simply, and the rush of blood to Dennis’ cheeks is Mac’s new favourite thing. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Dennis blush this hard before.
“Whatever,” Dennis croaks, and he’s such an idiot about stuff like this, Mac should’ve known. He loves him so much.
“You know I’d do anything for you, dude,” he says.
Dennis says, “Shut up,” but he’s smiling, and when Mac tugs on his hair his eyelashes flutter. It’s bizarre—almost disconcerting—to see Dennis like this, without his usual bravado and sarcasm providing a wall between him and the rest of the world. “Get on with it,” he mutters when a few seconds pass without Mac moving.
“Open your mouth,” Mac says, unduly pleased when Dennis complies. He guides Dennis’ mouth to his cock, hand fisted tightly in his hair. “Just slap me if you want to stop, okay?”
Dennis just looks up at him, haughtier than anyone with a faceful of dick has a right to be. Mac takes the hint, pushes half his length past Dennis’ lips in one go, trying his best not to make an embarrassing noise that Dennis will tease him about later.
It takes him a little while to work out a rhythm, to figure out the balance between thrusting into the heat of Dennis’ mouth and pushing Dennis’ head down. The fact that Dennis moans at even the slightest tug on his hair is hot but distracting, and Mac can barely think while Dennis’ hands are rubbing circles on his thighs. He has to close his eyes, focusing on the sensations and chasing the tight suction Dennis is offering him.
“I can’t believe you’re—fuck—letting me do this.”
Dennis pulls back. He’s panting for breath, cheeks flushed red and tears suspended in his eyes. He looks, in short, a wreck—Mac doesn’t think he’s ever been more beautiful.
“I can deepthroat, you know,” Dennis says, so calmly that he might have been listing skills at a job interview.
His knees must be aching, and the words sound like they’re scratching their way out of his throat, but Mac decides that taking him at his word is easier than arguing. Dennis leans forward to lick at his slit, using his hand to jerk the rest of Mac’s dick before he slides his lips back over, going down until the entirety of Mac’s cock is in his mouth. Mac can only watch, helpless, lips open on a quiet groan.
Dennis pulls back with a smug, “See?”
Mac barely gives him a chance to catch his breath before he’s pushing him back down, thrusting into his mouth three quick, rough times before he’s coming with a low moan, right into the back of Dennis’ throat.
When Dennis moves away this time, the tears are smeared down his face. “Try using a sex doll after that,” he rasps, and Mac can’t help but laugh through the aftershocks.
“Get up here,” he says. “And take your clothes off, dude.”
Dennis hesitates before he starts unbuttoning his shirt. As soon as it’s off, Mac sees that Dennis has lost a significant amount of weight—he can make out the faint outline of his ribs under the skin.
“Den…” He wants to say: What happened in North Dakota? He wants to ask: Why are you back? Instead, he pulls Dennis into a kiss, wiping the wetness off his cheeks with his thumbs. He says, “I love you.”
Dennis makes an indecipherable noise against his mouth. “Would’ve guessed you’d be sappy after you come.”
“I mean it, though. I’m glad you’re back.” He reaches down to unbutton Dennis’ jeans, palming him through his briefs. “What do you want?”
Dennis hides his face in Mac’s neck, licking up the column of his throat. “Want to touch you,” he says. “Lie down.”
Mac settles up against the pillows, managing not to look away when Dennis just rakes over him with his eyes, silent and wanting. Dennis strips off the remainder of his clothing and straddles Mac’s torso, those thighs Mac loves so much spread across his stomach.
“I want to come on your chest,” Dennis says, and with his hands braced on Mac’s shoulders he thrusts forward, dick smearing a little line of precome along Mac’s sternum.
“Okay,” he says, reaching out for Dennis’ cock. Dennis slaps his hand away.
“No. You’re gonna watch.”
“Shit, Dennis,” Mac whines, because getting this far only to be told that he can’t touch Dennis’ dick feels a little unfair.
Dennis grins down at him, a cruel twist in his lips. “Just lie back and think of England,” he suggests. His hand is moving over his own cock, now, slow like he’s teasing himself—drawing it out.
“I hate you,” he says, unable to tear his eyes away from the languid pace Dennis is setting, getting himself off like he’s got all the time in the world, like Mac isn’t going to combust from only being allowed to watch him.
“Hm? Thought you loved me.” His voice is still rough from sucking Mac off; his lips are still ridiculously red.
“Both. Can I touch you at all?”
Dennis pauses his movements, considering. “Nothing below the belt,” he says. Mac’s hands had already been drifting towards his thighs.
Mac settles for tracing the ridges of Dennis’ spine, watching as he speeds up the hand on his cock, left hand digging into Mac’s shoulder hard enough to ache—just a little bit. His head’s hanging between his shoulders and Mac can see the flash of white where his teeth are digging into his lower lip. He can feel the sweat on his back.
“You look so good, baby, fuck,” he says. Dennis makes a low sound; Mac latches onto it eagerly. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you’re gorgeous, losing control for me.”
“Mac, I—” Dennis is biting his lip again before he can finish the sentence.
“Want you to come all over me,” Mac says, stroking his thumbs over Dennis’ hips, which are thrusting forward into his hand. “Want you to mark me, like—like I’m yours.”
Dennis whines through his orgasm, loud enough that Mac spares a thought for their neighbors. He all but collapses as soon as it’s over, rolling to the side and catching his breath. Mac looks down at the mess he’s left, brings a hand up to smear the come across his pectorals.
“That’s so gross,” Dennis says on a breath.
“Fuck you, dude. It’s your jizz.”
Dennis wrinkles his nose. “Go shower,” he orders. “I might let you cuddle with me.”
Mac grins. “I wouldn’t have to shower for you to let me,” he says, but he gets up anyway.