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They get up to a lot of things in Mutt, things that would make Chuck squeal and hide his face if they were ever brought up in conversation, things that make Mike smile fondly as he runs a hand over her framework in the back of the Burners’ garage. Things that just so happen to be damn good at the time.
Now is another one of those times, Chuck decides, as he’s maneuvered into optimal deep throat position. His body is long so it’s tricky, back to the passenger side door, one leg slightly bent resting on the steering wheel, the other stretched out between the seats to the back. Mike is sort of a miracle worker when it comes to these things, must be, because Chuck doesn’t know how they’d manage otherwise. It could be some weird special move that can only be unlocked when arousal is at one hundred percent. Not that he’s complaining. What kind of eighteen year old would he be if he complained while there was a mouth on his cock?
Chuck can’t even form a coherent thought with Mike braced over him, back arched and ass in the air to avoid Mutt’s gearshift, slobbering over Chuck’s cock like it’s the best damn treat he’s ever received in his life. Wide eyes glancing up every once in a while through brown fringe and somehow managing to smirk at Chuck’s desperate stare. Leave it to Mike to still find the gall to fucking smirk with at least six inches of bulging flesh down his throat, literally, down his throat. Chuck can feel the contractions when he swallows, doesn’t want to move in case Mike chokes and decides deep throating Chuck’s huge cock wasn’t a very good idea after all.
Instead he chokes out a moan, “Miiikey, I’m uh, I’m gonna-”
Mike just groans around him in acknowledgment, one hand moving to palm himself as he makes to move away. But Chuck is so far down Mike can only go slow, painfully slow, igniting every nerve with the workings of his throat and tongue; and when he does finally get to the tip he doesn’t pull away, oh no, instead he starts sucking with the same amount of enthusiasm as he does everything else. Startling a string of moans from Chuck that increase in pitch until he’s sobbing, body pulled tight and hips inches off the seat when he comes.
“Shit, Go- Mikey, Mikey, holy fuck. You should come in my mouth, okay? Please? Please?”
It’s safe to say Chuck has no idea what he’s saying but Mike is nothing but an opportunist and he’s scrambling to move over his best friend’s mouth, top half of his body hunched over, directing Chuck forward with a sweaty hand.
“Yesss, fucking take it you filthy-”
“Give it to me, come on-”
“Damnit Chuckles, your mouth-”
Chuck sneaks a hand back behind Mike’s balls, probes gently into his hole and suddenly Mike is there. Hips rocking forward, painting Chuck’s lips with spurt after spurt of hot sticky come, eyes trained on his cock as he pushes into Chuck’s mouth a few times for good measure.
They’re both breathing hard, not quite believing of what just happened. It takes all of the energy Mike has left to plant himself back in the drivers seat, pulling Chuck’s leg from the steering wheel and into his lap.
“That was really hot, like, really really hot.” He pants, tilting his head back to the window with a slightthump.
Chuck grins, licking come off his face, and can’t help but agree.