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Dennis isn’t sure how exactly he got to this point.
He’s even less sure that it’s a good idea, that he isn't making one of the worst mistakes of his entire life, because he very well could be. He’s spent years committed to the notion that this sort of situation would never happen, could never tear apart his fragile sense of equilibrium beyond hope of repair. And now he’s gone and thrown all that hard work straight out the window, and he can’t even be sure that he’s mad about it.
The only thing he's certain of is that he doesn’t want it to stop.
He’s lying prone and disheveled on the inflatable mattress with Mac perched heavily atop him, straddling his waist. He’s already ruined Dennis’ carefully preened hair with his excited groping and brutishly ripped him out of his pants, and is presently struggling with the apparently herculean task of unbuttoning Dennis’ shirt.
The guy’s face is screwed up in concentration, sweaty hands shaking as he fumbles laboriously with each button. Mac has long since stripped down to his briefs, which is at least providing a scenic view during all of this tribulation, but Dennis is getting impatient.
He knocks Mac’s hands out of the way, earning himself an irritated whine.
“You’re taking too long, man. Just let me do it.” Dennis snaps, hastily working away at his remaining buttons. It’s slow going. His hands are trembling just as much as Mac’s, if not even more.
Mac doesn’t care. He ducks down and kisses needily at his forehead until Dennis loses his patience entirely on the last two buttons and starts to yank his shirt over his head. Mac is entirely in the way of things, (strangely) starting to kiss over Dennis’ squeezed-shut eyes.
“What are you- Off. Off.” Dennis commands, swatting sharply at his face.
“Fine.” Mac says. He pulls back, patience lasting only just long enough to allow Dennis to finish tearing his shirt off, before descending to hungrily mouth at his neck. Dennis barely manages to ball up the shirt and hurl it over the edge of the couch before he succumbs to the onslaught.
Mac’s sheer enthusiasm for all this is nothing short of overwhelming. It’s flattering in a way, how desperately he wants him. It’s also making Dennis realize that no one prior in his vast history of sexual conquests has wanted him anywhere near this badly. Not even close. He’s probably going to have a bit of a crisis over that revelation later, but Mac is doing some truly freakish shit with his tongue and Dennis is a bit distracted right now.
He can’t help but meet Mac’s reverent enthusiasm with a bit of his own. He runs his hands through his hair and massages at his scalp, rubbing his thumbs in circles behind his ears. Partially because he just wants to touch him, mostly to fuck up his ugly gel job until it’s a mess of random spiky tufts.
He looks ridiculous. It’s great.
Mac moans softly into his throat and undulates slowly against his body, having already lost his goddamn mind at just being allowed to do this. It’s doing something to Dennis too. He’s getting hard fast, and he hasn’t even had to will his erection into being like he so often does during his sexual liaisons. It’s just kind of- happening.
It’s strange. There’s supposed to be a specific procedure to this sort of thing, steps slowly and carefully taken in their requisite order that Dennis can stay well ahead of, reigns he can hold tightly to maintain control of the trajectory.
There’s no such reigns to speak of here, the trajectory out of control. The notion is as horrifying as it is thrilling.
The destination, at least, is obvious.
They haven’t exactly discussed any of this in advance, but there’s no way this encounter is stopping at mere hand and mouth stuff. They’re going to bang. It’s happening. And if the blowjobs and handies they’ve exchanged thus far are any indication of how Mac fucks, this is going to last a maximum of two minutes and Dennis will emerge from the other side of this wounded, drenched in drool, and humiliatingly desperate for more.
“You want this bad, huh?” He says tremulously as Mac gropes at his pecs. The softness in his voice undercuts any intended mockery; he slides his hands down Mac’s back and scrapes his nails over his shoulder blades to compensate.
“Uh-huh.” Mac nips him sharply under the ear in retribution, laughing quietly at the way he jolts. “You don’t even know, man.”
“I think I do.”
“Seriously, Dennis. I’ve been thinking about this pretty much all the time.” His words are mostly muffled against the hollow of Dennis’ throat.
“Mm-hm.” Dennis hums, softly running his nails up and down the plane of Mac’s back.
“Like, Dee was bitching at me about getting rid of all those rat corpses or whatever? And I couldn’t even hear her, I was so busy thinking about- uh, making out and stuff-”
“MM-HM.” Dennis grunts, shoving his hands under the waistline of Mac’s briefs and giving his ass a firm squeeze in an effort to shut him the hell up. Mac takes it more as a signal to moan obnoxiously and hump into the mattress between Dennis’ legs. Which works too, he supposes.
Mac shifts his attention away from his neck, trailing down to smear crude, wet kisses over his collarbone and not-so-lightly scrape his teeth over his pecs.
Dennis watches his enthusiastic mouthing with morbid curiosity. It looks like he’s trying to eat him. It’s fascinating.
“Ah - I’d been thinking about this for a while, actually.” Dennis admits carelessly, if only to distract from the embarrassing noise he makes when Mac attempts to suck his goddamn nipple off.
He regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth; the statement distracts Mac entirely away from his brutish attempt at nip play. He looks at Dennis with a steadily creeping grin, eyes sparkling.
“You were?”
“Well. Just a little.” Dennis says dismissively, lacing his fingers around the back of Mac’s head and trying to casually force his face back into his chest. Mac resists his efforts, his smile widening by the second.
“Okay, now you gotta tell me what you were thinking about.”
Dennis grunts in displeasure and attempts to lure him away from the subject by rubbing his semi up against Mac's belly. The guy reacts with immediate zeal, lunging forward so his crazed, grinning face hovers inches away. He returns Dennis’ gesture with a squeeze to his pec and a deep, insistent grind against his groin that draws an even more embarrassing noise out of him.
“What was it, Dennis?” Mac says, pressing their foreheads together and giving another hard roll that leaves him hot and twitching. Dennis shakes his head, clenching his eyes tightly shut so he doesn’t have to watch himself greedily jerk up to recieve the movement. “Huh? What were you thinking about?” Mac reaches back to yank one of Dennis’ legs up and starts full-on humping against his dick. “Huh? Huh?”
“Jesus fuck -” Dennis gasps. “Thought about- how fucking annoying you’d probably be in bed.” He winces against a particularly depraved thrust even as he hooks his leg around Mac’s hips to pull him closer, desperate to deepen the friction. “And goddamn, was I right!”
Mac’s smile doesn’t falter for even an instant. “Yeah, right, I’m so annoying. This is so annoying for you.” He mocks as he grinds his full weight against Dennis’ now very much full hard-on.
Mac’s arrogance is irritating in of itself, and the way it’s turning Dennis on like nothing else is making him want to dig a hole in the ground and hide in it for the rest of his life. Dennis isn’t supposed to be like this. He isn’t supposed to like this. He is completely and utterly out of control of the situation, and Mac’s technique is devoid of finesse and, frankly, sloppy as hell. And Dennis can’t even bring himself to actually hate any of it. If anything, he’s feeling the exact opposite. This is depraved.
“Fuck you.” He breathes, attempting to sound angry. It comes out desperate.
Mac laughs again. “Yeah, bet you thought about that, dude.”
“You’re killing my boner, ‘dude’.”
That finally manages to break Mac's smile. He blinks, glassy eyed.
“Um,” He says, pushing himself upright and craning his head down to check between their bodies. He looks back up at Dennis with a bitten lip, failing to suppress a giggle. “…Doesn’t look like it to me.”
“Shut up.” Dennis says, and wrenches him back down against his body. He hooks his fingers into Mac’s shoulders to hold him in place, and locks his legs behind his back to keep his hips working against him because, humiliating as it may be, Dennis is pretty sure he’s going to shrivel up and die if he’s deprived of this thrilling new cock-on-cock contact thing for more than another second.
Mac eagerly takes the invitation to return to his zealous dry humping and mouthy destruction of the structural integrity of Dennis’ neck. The marks he’s leaving will be disastrous. Dennis is going to look like a victim of attempted murder by strangulation, or of some kind of bizarre lamprey attack. He’s going to have to waste a boatload of foundation to even begin covering this up, lest Charlie, Frank, or goddamn Dee notices and he never hears the end of it for the rest of his life. He’s going to-
Mac does some weird bullshit to Dennis’ jugular with his teeth and tongue and Dennis whines like a bitch. He tilts his head back to give Mac a wider plane to destroy, fuck it, and whines some more.
“Just wanna know what you were thinking about, bro.” Mac mumbles against his neck, apparently still on this subject. “Because I’ll totally give it to you.”
“Yeah?” Dennis breathes through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, anything. I'm serious, Dennis.” Mac says, planting a kiss under his chin, but then hesitates in his movements. “At least if it’s not, uh. Piss stuff? I’m still kind of working out where I stand on the whole piss issue.” He pops his head up to make solemn eye contact. “But I guess if you really wanted-”
“No. Just- shut up.” Dennis hisses, giving Mac’s back a couple of frustrated swats; Dennis is going to lose his boner for real if the moron keeps talking about piss. Probably. He's not even sure about that at this point.
Mac shrugs and returns to savaging his throat like a rabid beast.
“I need to know what you want, man...” He begs between horrible, sloppy kisses.
“Figure it out.” Dennis groans. “You’re a big boy. You don’t need me to hold your hand through this.”
Mac responds with a frustrated hum and, to Dennis' absolute horror, pulls off his neck entirely. He pins Dennis down by the shoulders and hoists the rest of his body up out of reach, licking his lips to almost successfully hide a smirk when Dennis desperately arches against empty air to chase after him.
“I can’t really do anything here if you don’t just tell me, you know?” Mac says matter-of-factly, and good fucking God, he’s doing this intentionally. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Dennis wants to scream.
“Fine. Asshole.” Dennis gulps. “I just thought-”. Mac reaches down to palm at Dennis’ erection through his boxers, staring intently. “I wanted. Uh.”
“Go on.” Mac urges, as if he isn’t actively making this so, so much harder than it has to be. “I wanna give it to you.”
“Um.” Dennis says, helplessly rubbing himself against Mac’s hand.
Dennis should be able to turn this situation back in his favor. He’s usually quite adept with dirty talk, after all. Hell, his own masterful performance of verbal eroticism usually turns him on more than whatever the hell his hookup of the day is bringing to the table. But now he’s finding himself hopelessly bereft, struggling to remember any words in the English language beyond “please” and “more” and “shut the fuck up”.
He’s also at a bit of a loss with what he specifically wants to do here. Obviously they’re going to fuck like crazy, that ship has long since left the goddamn harbor and is well on track to its destination at this point, but it doesn’t do much to narrow things down.
His immediate, nervous instinct is that he should, he must, be the one on top. Which shouldn’t be a problem- for all of Mac’s aggravating bluster about being some kind of hard dom power top, Dennis is pretty confident that his actual preferences tend to lie on the 'getting plowed' side of things. The contents of his sexts certainly trended in that direction.
More importantly, Dennis fucking his gay best friend in the ass is at least a little less gay than being fucked in the ass by his gay best friend. There won’t be as much for him to unpack later that way. Power bottoming is probably on the table too. Sure, that option also entails letting the world's biggest homosexual bust it inside of him, but Dennis would be generating most of the power in that scenario, so. There’s some ambiguity there.
But these concerns are tempered by the fact that Dennis is, presently, finding it very difficult to actually give a shit about how objectively gay this situation is. Fine, so he's a bit of a fag. He's mostly over it. Whatever. And, honestly? He’s pretty worn out from the stresses of the day. He’s feeling a little lazy even, broiling anxiety aside.
Mac, meanwhile, has the physical stamina of a fucking draft horse (if his habitual multi-hour dildo bike sessions are any indication), and doesn’t look the least bit tired. Rather, he appears to be outright vibrating with the combined energy of excitement and anticipation and whatever caffeine overdose he’s currently experiencing. Dennis kind of just wants to let him go to town on him. In fact, he really, really wants that, so he's noticing.
But then again-
Dennis takes a deep breath and slowly formulates the first combination of words that come to mind.
“Guess I kinda wanted to, uh- creampie you real good. Or something.” He chokes out, and is immediately overwhelmed with abject misery. This is terrible. He is never living this down.
At least that's what he thinks, but Mac doesn’t seem to notice or care how woefully off his game Dennis is. In fact, he distinctly sees the guy’s dick twitch through his briefs in response to that monstrous trainwreck of a sentence. Jesus Christ.
“Oh God. Dennis I want that.” Mac moans, dropping the whole dominance act entirely and diving in for an especially sloppy, open mouthed kiss. “You can totally rip me in half on your cock, I’d love it. I’d love your cum, man.” He blubbers incoherently against Dennis’ face.
Dennis manages to salvage a little confidence out of how much worse Mac is at this than him. He grabs Mac roughly by the cheeks to push his wet face a few inches back and look him in the eye, feeling distinctly braver.
“I could absolutely do that. Or maybe you could, uh, pick me up and fuck me up the wall or something? I don’t know.” Dennis says nonchalantly, giving him a casual pat across the cheekbone.
That really gets Mac’s attention. His jaw drops open, wide eyes so dilated they look black.
Suddenly finding himself securely at an advantage, Dennis laughs, tossing his head to the side.
“But, ehhh. That’s kind of unrealistic though, right Mac? Too ambitious. Just kind of a- a fantasy scenario.”
Mac’s brows furrow in deep consternation. “It’s actually so realistic Dennis, it is the most realistic-”
Dennis waves him off with a flap of the hand.
“Mmm, I know you’re very strong and all that,” He emphasizes with an appreciative squeeze to his bicep. “But I’m probably still too heavy for you to- you know. Maintain that position.”
“I could absolutely maintain that position, shut the fuck up.”
Dennis graciously deigns not to flip his lid at being told to shut the fuck up, instead facing Mac again with a stern look. “You’re not going to drop me?” He asks, grabbing his face again.
Mac shakes his head aggressively.
“Because if you drop me, we are never doing this again. Do you understand me, Mac?” Dennis says, forcefully squishing Mac’s cheeks so his lips purse out like a fish.
“Whatever.” Mac grumbles, barely intelligible. He’s looking down now, slipping his fingers through the waistline of Dennis’ boxers.
“I’m serious. If you make me break my hip or something I’m kicking you out.”
Mac doesn’t even bother to acknowledge that one. He’s entirely focused on tugging impatiently at his underwear, mumbling something indistinct along the lines of “Get your ass out,” through his squeezed cheeks.
Dennis makes a show of huffing and rolling his eyes, but complies regardless, shooing the brute off his lap again.
Mac reluctantly dismounts to give him space. He moves to the side, sitting criss-cross and stock upright at full, rapt attention. His utterly spellbound expression as he watches Dennis strip like it’s the second coming of Christ has Dennis experiencing a strange mixture of churning nausea and glowing pride. And feeling unbearably fucking horny, if the state of his freshly exposed dick says anything.
Dennis kicks his boxers off from his ankle, flinging them wildly aside. They come to rest atop the television, which is kind of gross given they're absolutely soaked in their combined sweat and precum, but he doesn't give a shit. He'll clean it up later. Whatever. He lets his legs settle back into the bed, expertly splayed and bent at the knees just so to nicely display his thighs and cock, and to tease just a tasteful hint of hole. Not quite revealing it, just- providing a little something to look forward to.
Mac looks like he’s about to have a stroke.
“What are you looking at?” Dennis taunts, as if he doesn’t fucking know.
Mac gulps, reaching out to rub a jittering hand over his thigh. “You’re so hot, dude. Like, it’s crazy.”
“Yeah?” Dennis says, basking in it. “Do something about it. You have any lube, or am I going to have to do everything myself here?”
Mac scoffs indignantly, giving his inner thigh an appraising squeeze. “Of course I have lube, Dennis. Let me just-” He blinks, looking pointedly between Dennis’ legs. “Wait, do you need to go prep? I’ve got a couple of those douching things if you-”
Dennis quickly waves him off.
“...I’m clean.” He admits, watching the cogs churn in Mac’s head with a shade of embarrassment.
“You were… Planning for this.” Mac parses out slowly, beginning to smirk.
Dennis averts his eyes from his friend's increasingly smug expression, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “Shut up. Go get the lube.”
Mac grins like a maniac and dashes into his bedroom.
Admittedly, this was somewhat premeditated. Dennis didn’t necessarily acknowledge to himself that he might be spending this fine evening getting plowed up the ass, but he has been more thorough than strictly necessary when cleaning himself in the shower ever since the possibility of sex started being on the table. Just in case.
He rubs his hands down his own thighs now, self-soothing. The whole ‘about to get fucked by another man for the first time’ thing (sober and consciously, at least) is starting to hit him now that he’s been given a moment alone to his thoughts.
Not just another man, but one who is significantly more experienced in the gay sex department than he is. And being the less experienced partner is a level of weakness that Dennis would typically refuse to subject himself to. It puts him at a distinct disadvantage, and here he is, just letting it happen.
Not just another man, but one who also happens to be his roommate, his best friend, the idiot Dennis has been saddled with for so long he’s most accurately classified as his life partner.
He wonders what it's going to mean, to give in so completely. To give Mac exactly what he wants. He clearly wants this more than anything. Hell, Mac thinks he loves him, but most people shed any such delusions once they've had their cravings satisfied in full.
He massages his own hand, nerves flaring in anticipation. There’s no coming back from this.
Mac careens out through his door with a bottle in hand, jogging back across the living room at full tilt. He’s clearly having no such uneasy thoughts, he looks outright giddy. His manic expression doesn’t even break when he trips over himself while yanking his briefs off mid-run like a moron. His unveiled erection bobs obscenely as he hoists himself back to his feet, and Dennis’ mouth runs dry at the sight.
It’s not even a particularly impressive dick in size or overall physical quality, but he doesn’t give a shit. It’s about to be up in him, and this knowledge has him suspended somewhere between terrified and aching with lust. The latter feeling is starting to win over again, in spite of his best efforts. He can practically feel his higher brain functions shutting down by the second.
Yeah. This might be a mistake, but fuck it. Fuck everything. He needs Mac inside of him yesterday. He’s not even going to make him wear a condom, as a treat. For both of them.
Dennis registers that he’s been dazedly ogling Mac’s boner much too late for plausible deniability, so he adjusts his face into the most neutral expression he’s physically capable of and keeps right on with his ogling.
He’s only broken out of his trance when Mac crashes to his knees in front of him and starts squirting about a metric ton of lube onto his fingers.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna open you up, bro.” He states plainly, starting to rapidly jack off his slicked-up fingers with his other hand. To warm the lube, Dennis supposes. He appreciates the unexpected level of consideration, if absolutely nothing else.
“I’m going to open me up.” Dennis corrects, gesturing wildly as he thinks up an excuse for his instinctual discomfort. “I don’t trust you and your- your meaty goddamn hands.”
Mac rolls his eyes, his hand dripping gratuitously onto the sheets. “Uh, I know what I’m doing, here. I probably know better than you.”
“You probably- I don’t care. Give me the lube.” Dennis beckons impatiently.
“Fine.” Mac says, handing it over with a disappointed pout before resuming his bossy demeanor. “You have to let me do it at some point, Dennis. I can make it good.”
“Not going to happen.” Dennis says simply, uncapping the bottle.
And he really means it, but in his experience ‘not going to happen’ has tended to become ‘maybe going to happen’ and then ‘yeah, it’s happening’ with the passage of time, so who knows? It’s a curse of his, really.
“I could tongue you open instead.” Mac says like it’s nothing, and Dennis flinches at his own immediate, visceral reaction. This one isn’t nearly as negative.
“Maybe later, Mac.” He grits out, squeezing about five hundred times more lube out of the bottle than he intended.
Dennis thoroughly coats his fingers, clenching his hand in a fist and rubbing the thumb against his knuckles as a (admittedly, less effective than the jerking) means of warming it. He grimaces in resignation and twists his body around awkwardly, testing a few angles before he sets to work on fingering himself.
Mac’s eyes are shamelessly locked on to Dennis’ every move, a deep flush rising in his face. He reaches for his own dick and slowly tugs his lubed-up hand over its length, twisting his fist over the head. It would ostensibly be just a move to transfer the lubricant, were it not for the fact that he just kind of- keeps going.
“Good God, man. Can you not just wait a minute?” Dennis chastises, prematurely inserting another finger to speed things along lest Mac wears out his rather pitiful sexual endurance before they can even properly get started.
“Sorry.” Mac says, not sorry at all and still leisurely jerking himself off. “It’s just- oh God.”
Dennis looks away, trying to maintain focus on his preparation. He’s resolutely not a fan of fingering, and worse still, he’s entirely unsure how to make his performance look good, much less even remotely dignified. Mac’s very, very clear appreciation for the act in spite of Dennis’ poor technique has him somewhat mortified.
“You ever done this before?” Mac asks after a brief moment of silence, voice quavering. “I mean, not the fingering, but like-. Ever taken it up the ass?”
He must be feeling real damn brave if he’s asking questions like that.
“No. Yes-. Kind of.” Dennis sputters, staring a hole into the bedsheets. “I mean, obviously I have experience in- all areas. Of sex. What kind of sexual expert hasn’t ‘taken it up the ass’?”
“...Just not with a man?” Mac nudges, the smile plain in his voice. Like he already knows the answer.
He’s real goddamn lucky that Dennis is too turned on to freak out on him right now, because holy shit.
Dennis bites back his annoyance, mulling it over. He’s not sure whether it would be more embarrassing to admit that he hasn’t or to lie that he has.
“Stop talking.” He says instead, a sufficient non-answer, and slips a third finger inside of himself.
He hears a breathy groan and the telltale wet noises of a lubed-up penis getting aggressively yanked and glares back at Mac.
“...And can you stop jacking off? Come on, man. I don’t want you blowing it before you even get inside me, you perverted goddamn animal.”
“Oh God, stop.” Mac outright moans, prying his hand away from his visibly twitching cock with considerable effort.
Dennis is baffled.
“...Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Don’t say that, Dennis.” Mac whimpers quietly.
“Oh, what? Am I blaspheming, Mac? Am I fucking blaspheming?” Dennis spits out, picking up his pace. “You’re the one going all ‘oh God, oh God, ahhhh’ while you masturbate yourself to m-”
“DUDE!” Mac wails, flailing to seize his dick in a white-knuckled death grip and strangle it into submission.
“CALM DOWN, I’M ALMOST DONE.” Dennis shrieks.
“I’M TRYING.”
“JESUS- Shit.” Dennis splays his fingers inside of himself, finding the pain sufficiently bearable. “Okay. Good enough.” He pulls his hand out and wipes his fingers off on his leg.
He looks back to Mac, cocking an eyebrow. “You still with me, bud?”
“...Yeah.” Mac has the dazed, stupid expression of someone who's just been bashed over the head with a brick.
“I can’t wait much longer though. Feel how hard I am.” He shakily points towards his boner. Dennis, irritation rapidly succumbing to curiosity, reaches out with two fingers and gives it an exploratory tap to the side.
"Holy shit."
“Yeah. This is crazy.” Mac mutters thickly.
“Buddy, that looks painful.” Dennis observes, mesmerized and buzzing with pride.
“It is, Dennis. I’m kind of dying over here”
Dennis smiles cruelly.
“Poor thing.” He gloats, running his fingers along Mac’s length with an intentionally useless, feather-light touch. “Poor baby.” Mac makes a strangled noise, curling his hands into fists.
“I don’t know if we should do this, after all.” Dennis sighs with faux-disappointment, trailing his fingertip through the precum spilling freely out from the head. He gets a sick impulse to lick it from his fingers, so he does, staring Mac down all the while.
Mac whimpers, wide-eyed in agony.
“God, look at you. You probably aren’t going to last more than five seconds like this. Maybe I should just take care of it now, y’know?” He wraps his hand loosely around Mac's cock and gives him a careful stroke to the base. Mac watches with sweat dripping down his brow, frozen stiff save for his trembling. He nervously licks his lips.
This is thrilling. Nothing Dennis has ever done in all his years of teasing and messing with his roommate can even begin to compare to this. He really should have given in the whole gay sex thing years ago, he’s realizing. It really opens up a whole new world of games he can play with him.
The object of this particular game is to provoke Mac into fucking him senseless.
“What do you think, Mac?” He gives him another light tug, and Mac makes a sound that could only be described as a squeak. Dennis grins and adds his other hand into the mix, fondling at his balls. “Do you think I should just-”
Mac tackles him.
Dennis is slammed backwards into the bed with a yelp. Mac bears down on him with his full, crushing weight and grinds their bare erections together, wild eyed and growling like a goddamn animal. He grapples at both of Dennis’ legs and leans forward, nearly folding him in half as he starts to thrust searchingly between his legs.
It’s perfect.
Or rather, it would be perfect. It’s just that Dennis had some bigger aspirations for this scenario.
“The wall, Mac, remember?” He gasps as Mac ruts blindly under him, failing miserably at finding the hole. “You were going to-”
Mac grunts in mute acknowledgment, seizing Dennis under his arms and yanking him up to a standing position. They share a brief moment of crazed, desperate eye contact before Dennis decides it’s his turn to eat the motherfucker and he crashes into Mac’s lips so hard their teeth clatter.
Dennis is beyond caring about how he moans girlishly into his mouth as he licks at his tongue. Whatever. It just makes Mac’s hands drop to his waist, holding his thighs together so he can fuck into them a couple times and coax more debauched noises out of him. And it’s so good, and it’s so incredibly not enough. He seizes a fistful of Mac’s hair and pulls hard, twisting them around in place and stepping backwards, urging Mac towards their destination. They don’t break the kiss until Dennis is slammed against their apartment wall, the paintings around him rattling in their frames.
Mac pulls back away and faces the ceiling, gasping for air like he’s forgotten to breathe. He probably has.
“Come on, come on, come on.” Dennis chants like a madman, gripping Mac by the shoulders and fruitlessly attempting to hop onto his dick.
He’s startled out of his sexed-up daze by Mac placing a stilling hand on his chest and casting him a sheepish look.
“What.” Dennis croaks.
“Listen, I am SO into this and can totally maintain the position but like, are you sure you want to be this- uh. Ambitious? For your first time?”
Dennis blinks incredulously. He shouldn’t have given Mac time to think, and Mac really shouldn’t be giving him time to consider things either. He can’t fucking believe this.
“Of course I’m sure, asshole. I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t fucking sure.” Dennis lies. He gives Mac's shoulders a commanding squeeze.
“Okay.” Mac shrugs and hooks his hands roughly around Dennis’ thighs, hefting him up against the wall with a startling ease that mostly restores his previous track of brainless, horny reverie. Dennis grits his teeth and wraps his legs around the man's waist, clinging to his shoulders for dear life.
There’s still one coherent, non-sexual thought remaining in Dennis’ brain.
“I’m going to skin you alive if you drop me.” He says.
“Uh-huh.” Mac grunts, not even slightly listening as he adjusts his grip to grope at Dennis’ ass.
He shifts to a straining, one-armed hold, bracing Dennis with his knees and pushing him uncomfortably against the wall to compensate while his other hand fumbles at lining them up.
A little twinge of pain shoots up Dennis' spine.
"Ow."
“...Sorry, dude. This might take a few seconds to get right. It’s- it’s kind of a complicated maneuver-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake just- let me.” Dennis hisses, reaching under both of them to grasp Mac’s dick and pull him into position. The head nudges up against his hole and he’s pretty sure he’s about to burst into flames. “Okay. There. Go, go, gogogo-”
“I’m going, Dennis.” Mac groans, and slides inside.
There’s the initial, expected pain as Dennis accommodates to the intrusion, Mac's full body quivering with apparent strain of staying still.
Once the pain begins to fade, the sensation settles into a vague, overwhelming fullness. Dennis has taken strap-ons and sex toys that dwarf Mac’s dick by comparison, but it’s really not the same as the real thing, he’s noticing. It doesn’t even compare.
“You can move now. Go.”
Mac bites his tongue, shifting his grip one last time, and begins to slowly thrust into him.
It’s-
It’s okay.
The position itself is just - objectively - teeth grindingly hot. The fact that Mac is finally inside of him, and the way this fact comes across to him with a strange sense of relief, as a long awaited gift, is pretty damn hot too. But beyond the psychological level, none of this is really doing anything for Dennis right now.
He desperately hopes it’s just an issue of aiming.
“Little higher, bud.” Dennis coaches.
“Like this?”
Good fucking God.
“No, that’s lower you moron. Move it like-” Mac hits him just right and Dennis moans like he’s been gutted.
“That’s it, just like that.” He purrs, already lost. “Go harder.”
Mac groans like a beast and, having received the green light, abruptly starts to slam into him at a barbaric pace, sending Dennis gasping and jostling up the wall.
He’s met with a dizzying combination of sensations.
At first, how agonizingly fucking good this feels, being held like a ragdoll and used and pleasured all at once. The heat moving inside of him, the way Mac's gaze flits between Dennis' face and down to where he’s entering him like he can't decide what to focus on. How good Mac looks like this- all hot and sweaty and disheveled, his bitten lip and heavy lidded eyes, his every muscle flexed and straining for him, breath coming out in low moans. A distant part of Dennis realizes that he’s probably going to be a little ruined for everyone and everything else after this.
Next, the stabs of actual, wholly un-erotic agony tearing through his back as each brutal thrust knocks and bends it against the wall.
“Fuck- Shit- FUCK.” Dennis yelps, starting to writhe.
“That good, huh?” Mac grits out, picking up his pace.
“NO. PUT ME DOWN.”
Mac thrusts a couple more times before his addled brain processes the demand, movements stuttering to a halt.
“Oh shit-” He says, pulling out and setting Dennis down so quickly he almost does fall off his shaking legs and shatter his pelvis. “You good, man?”
“Christ.” Dennis gasps, clutching at his middle back. “Okay, fine, yeah. Too ambitious. I think I just- you just- shattered my spine, you goddamn animal.”
“Okay, but this really isn’t my fault though? You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Mac says, reaching around to massage uselessly between his shoulder blades.
Dennis waves him off, panting raggedly.
Mac chuckles, unrepentant, until he glances down to Dennis’ flagging erection and jolts. He looks into his eyes with an expression of utmost horror. “...This doesn’t mean we have to stop, right?”
Dennis bats his hand away. “No. Maybe. Fuck you. Just- the bed. Now.”
He’s still aching, and having his back splintered to pieces did kind of kill his boner, but the pain isn't so bad now that he's not being plowed through the drywall and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t see this through.
Dennis hobbles his way to the mattress with Mac trailing cautiously behind, and carefully lowers himself down. He grabs a few of their pillows, meticulously positioning them to brace his back and hips against the imminent onslaught. He rolls himself on top, shimmying until he’s securely settled and reasonably confident that the additional lumbar support will help him survive whatever comes next.
“Alright. This is going to work.” He says, as much to convince himself as anything else.
He looks up to where Mac is still hovering. He looks a little terrified, yet he's somehow still almost as hard as before, middle age and distress be damned. Thank fuck.
“Are you gonna finish what you started or what?”
Mac nods furiously and scrambles down to meet him.
He parts Dennis’ legs much more delicately than before, shuffling his way between them until they meet at the hips and pausing there, waiting for a signal. Dennis, entirely thrown off track with no idea how to get things moving again, just decides to follow whatever impulse comes to him and hope that something sticks.
He reaches out to run his fingers up Mac’s abs, trailing over his ribcage, feeling the way he tenses and leans into the touch almost involuntarily. He slides his palm up his chest, noting the heavy thumps of his heart with a sense of curiosity. It's still racing. The pace mirrors Dennis' own.
Mac cracks a smile at whatever this is. He leans down, closing in until he knocks their foreheads together again.
“Hi Dennis.” Mac says, eyes a black blur from an inch away.
“...Hi.” Dennis says, a little bewildered.
Unsure what to do next, he closes the gap and goes in for a kiss.
It’s soft at first, much softer than anything they’ve done yet, and something about that is deeply unnerving, chillingly exciting. He doesn't want to stop. They part just enough to breathe, and he distantly feels himself reach up to cup Mac behind the ears, pulling him back in with a heavy, relieved sigh.
They kiss, slow and deep, until Mac licks between his lips and Dennis moans like a whore and humps up against him and that gets things going again.
“Picking up where I left off-.” Mac murmurs against his lips as he grinds slowly against Dennis’ dick, devotedly working him back up.
“Yeah.” Dennis says, rocking his hips against him. “Yeah, come on Mac.”
Mac leans back, looking deathly serious as he takes himself in hand and lines them up, excruciatingly cautious as he slides back in. He reaches beneath Dennis to gently cradle his back with both hands, studying the way he bites at his lip when Mac fully sheathes.
“Does it hurt?”
“Your dick isn’t that big, man, you’re good.” Dennis grits out.
He realizes a little too late that Mac may have actually been, with unusually genuine selflessness, inquiring about Dennis’ injury. And that he maybe shouldn't have gone for a low blow either way, because Mac abruptly pulls out and slams back inside.
It’s Dennis’ turn to make an unseemly squeaking noise. Because yeah, it does send a small shock up his brutalized spine, but more importantly, this goddamn bastard aimed perfectly and he knows it. He knows exactly what he's doing and Dennis is pretty sure he is going to scream before this is over.
“Does that hurt?” Mac asks with a savage smile, grinding against the spot with tight little rolls of his hips that make Dennis' toes curl.
“Yes you son of a bitch. Don't fucking stop.”
Mac needs no further encouragement. He provides the mercy of a few more slow grinds before bracing Dennis' back and starting to fuck into him at his previous, frenetic pace. Dennis throws his head back and closes his eyes, entirely lost. The shitty air mattress squeaks in obscene harmony with Dennis' moans with each thrust, and he's pretty sure the both of them are going to develop some kind of pavlovian boner response to squeaking rubber for the rest of their goddamn lives. It's going to ruin Dennis' life. He's fucking ruined, and he wants more. He angles his hips upwards, finding the pillows just sufficient enough spinal support that he doesn't die of agony on the spot, and he seizes Mac around the back so he's poised directly over him and ramming into him just right.
The new angle positions him almost perfectly, too fucking good. Dennis clenches his teeth and digs his nails into yielding flesh, dragging vicious scratches across Mac's back with each rocking wave of overstimulation. Mac doesn’t seem to mind so much right now. He groans and drops to Dennis’ chest, his ruthless jackhammer pounding melting into slow, deep rolls. Dennis locks his legs around his waist, securing him right there, right there-
“I can’t-” Mac gasps, voice tremulous. “Dennis I can’t-”
He looks like he’s about to cry. Dennis’ neglected dick twitches against his stomach.
“Almost there- I’m almost-. Hold out a little longer.” Dennis cups Mac's sweaty cheek and he leans into it, eyes glistening. “Can you hold out for me, baby boy?”
“You’re- making it worse.”
Dennis changes tactics.
“Can you last for twenty fucking seconds, assho-” The sentence dies in Dennis’ throat as a particularly nasty grind against his prostate makes his whole body seize.
Mac has fully stopped listening anyway, much less trying to restrain himself. His pace doubles again, now aimlessly chasing orgasm, his movements becoming stuttery and uncoordinated as he approaches the brink.
Dennis sucks in a shuddering breath and begins to jerk himself off.
“Sorry, sorry-.” Mac pants as he fully sheathes himself and starts grinding in place, staring at Dennis in teary-eyed reverence. “It’s so good dude, it’s so good. You’re so beautiful, man, Dennis it’s so good, I-”
Dennis resigns himself to his fate and clenches as hard as he can.
Mac gasps, hips spasming into a final, brutal thrust that has Dennis biting into his cheeks for dear fucking life, and comes with a strangled cry.
Dennis isn’t quite there, and the sensation of Mac unloading inside of him with tiny, involuntary jerks isn’t quite enough to get him there, but goddamn if it’s not doing something. He circles his hips around where Mac is quickly going soft, desperate for friction, and whines piteously as he pulls out.
“Dude.” Dennis groans helplessly, still jacking himself off and feeling his wrist going weak. “Couldn’t hold out- just a minute?”
“Sorry. Sorry.” He pants on his hands and knees, eyes squeezed shut and shedding his built up tears in post-orgasmic rapture.
He pops one eye open to watch Dennis’ flagging efforts with a dazed, watery stare. The sight seems to jerk him back into a state of semi-lucidity, his brows furrowing deeply. He reaches over to Dennis’ occupied hand with muted agitation.
“Stop it- hang on, I’ve got this, bro.” Mac says, stilling him with a firm grab to the wrist. Dennis lets go of himself, eyeing him cautiously from across his own heaving chest.
Mac shuffles down the bed on his stomach and positions his face between Dennis’ legs, features set in determination as he shoulders his thighs apart. He maintains unbroken eye contact and his uncharacteristically grave expression in a way that would almost be funny as he leans in, licking a slow, hard arc up his dick, flicking across the tip to collect the precum beading there.
Dennis fully expects him to pull his absolutely depraved signature move of swallowing him down to the base in one go like he's trying to eat him alive. He’s prepared for it.
What he doesn’t expect is when Mac instead starts jacking him off with one hand, and uses the other to reach underneath and roughly spread his ass. Mac looks down and lets out a subdued groan, taking a moment to admire where his own jizz is surely leaking out, before burying his face between Dennis’ thighs, kissing and licking his way towards- Oh God.
Dennis jolts upright to watch in astonishment, and has about about a millisecond to laugh hysterically before Mac starts to feverishly work his tongue against his hole and he is well and truly sent over the fucking edge.
He lets out a pitchy wail he didn’t even know himself capable of, flailing down to grab Mac by the hair and hold him in place. He knocks Mac’s hand out of the way and starts jacking himself off at a renewed, frantic pace. Mac quickly adjusts, instead cradling around both thighs like they’re precious and lifting his hips to get a deeper angle. It's sheer overstimulation, Mac's hot breaths searing over the sensitive skin and his muffled moans vibrating cloyingly through his pelvis, his lips working against him, tongue dipping inside him-
It’s a matter of seconds before Dennis’ back arches against the building pressure, pain be damned, grinding himself against Mac's face and twisting his hand over the head of his spilling cock. He takes a trembling breath and crushes Mac’s head between his thighs and comes hard.
It’s good. It’s really, really good.
He slowly floats back into his head to the dim sensation of his cum pooling on his hand and stomach. Then a hand urgently slapping at his side, accompanied by a few muffled shouts.
Oh, yeah.
He lets his thighs fall apart and Mac surfaces with a shuddering gasp.
“Jesus, Dennis.” He pants, red-faced, barely taking a moment to catch his breath before he descends back onto Dennis’ dick, breathing heavily through his nostrils. Mac takes it in his mouth and sucks at the tip, licks along the sides, apparently desperate to ingest as much of his release as he possibly can. The sensation is pleasurable for about half a second before it becomes altogether overwhelming.
“Stop. Stop." Dennis groans, shoving at his forehead. "Too much- stop it.” Mac reluctantly pulls off and lets his dick drop limply against his stomach.
He watches with fascination as Mac, unrejected, moves instead to lave his tongue over his belly, meticulously kissing and licking away the lines of cum that are collected there.
“You’re an absolute freak.” He observes, awash with affection, as Mac dutifully moves on to cleaning off his jizzed up hand.
“Mmh-hghh.” Mac garbles through a mouthful of fingers.
Dennis sighs, and lets his head drop back to stare at the ceiling as his breathing settles.
It is with a heavy sense of resignation that he realizes this was, somehow, among the best sex he’s ever had. Which means the bar must be low, but goddamn if he isn’t feeling good right now.
There’s certainly aspects that will need significant improvement when they do this again. And, Dennis realizes, it is when, not if. He’s feeling a lot of things right now, and as much as part of him still noisily tries to convince him regret should be one of them, it’s really just- not. Maybe it will come later, but not now.
He’s already gone too far for a little recreational plowing to make things any worse. If this was a mistake, he’s not seeing how, or why he shouldn’t keep right on making this mistake at every further opportunity. At least, aside from his new spinal injury.
Mac, having apparently consumed all available semen in the immediate vicinity, heaves himself forward to flop down against Dennis’ abdomen. He rubs his cheek against his ribs, wrapping his arms around his sides in a loose embrace. Dennis is dimly surprised at this; he had honestly kind of expected the brute to roll over and pass out the instant the horny chemicals left his body. He really can't say he minds.
“You’re so good, Dennis. That was so good.” Mac says fondly.
“Yeah,” Dennis cracks a smile at the ceiling. “I am.” He tilts his chin up to look at the top of Mac’s head. “I mean, there’s some areas we’ll need to work on next time. Your endurance, for one thing.”
Mac drowsily reaches up to clap Dennis on the pec in muted indignation, letting his hand come to rest there.
“Shut up, bro. I did really good all things considered.” He huffs, curling his fingers against his chest. “I mean, Dennis. Think about it from my perspective here. I’m fucking basically the hottest guy on the planet. It took a badass amount of strength not to bust the second I got in there.”
It’s obvious, shameless flattery. Dennis lets himself fall for it anyway.
“I suppose that’s true.” He says curtly. “We’re still going to work on it, though.”
Mac gives him a silent thumbs up.
Dennis takes a moment to proudly admire the angry, possessive scratches he's left marking Mac's back, before a sharp prick of pain in his own back pulls him out of his contemplation.
“Okay, I gotta- I’m going to need to take like- twenty Tylenols or something. I’m gonna be sore as shit tomorrow.” Dennis says, beginning to twist himself upright and cringing back into the mattress when his middle back twinges harder.
“Yeah you are.” Mac snorts.
“It’s not funny Mac, I really think I’m injured here. I might have to go to the hospital or something.”
Mac grumbles in annoyance. “You’re probably fine, Dennis.” He says, then murmurs. “I'll take care of you if you're not.”
“Ugh- You understand how un-encouraging that is, right?” Dennis groans, exasperated. Mac shrugs. “And I’m not letting you carry me around, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“We’ll see.”
“Well, we actually won’t.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Seriously though, get off. I need to go clean up.” Dennis says, propping himself up on his elbows and wincing at his back’s pained protests. Mac does nothing to help the situation, clinging tighter to Dennis’ sides with a needy little groan.
"Off. Get off."
“Come on. Can we just stay here for five more minutes?”
Dennis sighs, aggravated at just how appealing that notion actually is. Hell, if the sensation of drying jizz inside of him was just a little less disgusting, he’d be entirely content to fall asleep like this. He’s a goner.
He collapses back down into the bed.
“Fine. Five minutes.”
He has a feeling it’s going to end up somewhere closer to twenty.
Appeased, Mac heaves a long, contented sigh and wriggles himself in closer. He settles with one arm looped underneath Dennis’ back, the other hand resting on his chest just north of his heart.
This feels alright. It’s warm. And it's sweaty and a little uncomfortable, and the way their skin is kind of stuck together with a lingering amalgam of body fluids is incredibly gross.
Still. He doesn't really want to leave.
Following every stupid urge that presents itself has been working out more or less positively for Dennis lately, so he tentatively rests his palm over the top of Mac’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Fuck it. Why not?
Mac twists his hand around to squeeze it back, rubbing his thumb across Dennis' knuckles.
“I love you, man.” He mutters against his stomach, so quietly Dennis isn’t even sure he was supposed to hear it.
He flinches, taking in a deep breath. It’s not anywhere near the first time he’s heard this bullshit. Mac thinks he loves him, and hell, maybe he does. Great. He can handle it. It’s not like anything’s really different now. It’s not-
No. Something’s definitely different now.
“...Yeah.” Dennis says, gritting his teeth.
He says nothing else, but reaches down to pat at Mac’s thoroughly fucked up hair, taking one last opportunity to make it worse. Mac sleepily turns to face him with a look of pure adoration that makes Dennis feel only a little nauseated. It’s mostly something else.
For the sake of his sanity, Dennis decides to label this feeling as ‘generosity’ for now.
He cups Mac’s cheek and gives it an urgent tug.
Mac takes the hint and clambers back up Dennis’ body, leaning over him expectantly, captivated. And Dennis, feeling especially generous, pulls him down into a long, slow kiss.