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Open Arms

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“How does it feel?” The room is quiet. Jean and Marco had been exchanging banter for the few moments before, between kisses and plans and clothes, but, now. The air in the room seems to take on a different, expectant air.

Jean groans and rolls his eyes. “How do you think it feels?”

Marco’s running his palm over the halfie in his shorts. Jean, next to him, is naked and starting to feel a little awkward with his legs open and a sizeable dildo between them, Marco can tell. Jean’s not shy in bed, but he’s no exhibitionist. Marco puts his hand on his shoulder, noticing the cutest little twitch of well-developed muscle under his skin, and leans in to whisper into Jean’s ear. “Tell me?”

He feels Jean relax a little. “Texture is weird.”

“Why don’t you move it?”

“…Right.” Jean grips the dildo and pulls it out, pushes it back in. Marco sees his dick fill up a little. He leans over and runs his hand over Jean’s chest, tickling his fingers a little over that spot by the crook of Jean’s arm, that spot that always seems to make him jerk. Marco grins when Jean gasps and swears.

“You’re so hot, Jean.” Marco whispers. “How fast do you do it when you’re alone? Show me.”

Jean speeds up, barely, but adjusts his body so he can keep thrusting more comfortably. Marco feasts his eyes on the sharply defined muscles. Every time he moves, every time the dildo brushes past his spot, different muscles twitch and dance. Marco spares him no detail of just how good he looks and sounds, how cute his chest is when it turns pink, just like that- all whispered into his ear intimately. When Jean’s breathing starts to become labored, when his eyes get a little hazy, Marco questions him again.

“How does it feel?” Jean’s hand slows down, “Oh, no, keep it up! Don’t stop now, baby. You’re doing so well.”

“It… ah… good. Better if you’d do it.” Marco notices Jean’s hand speeds up as he says this.

“I’d rather watch you. A little more, c’mon.”

Jean bites his lip. He’s getting frustrated. Marco doesn't necessarily enjoy tormenting his boyfriend, but, god, this. This is something else. Marco knows that when Jean gets close, his brain gets too confused to keep it up as hard and fast as he needs to come, keeping him on a frustrating plateau. He wants to see that. And Jean wants to show him.

Marco wants to push Jean a little farther. He runs his hand down his chest and stomach slowly, relishing the way Jean’s breathing picks up in anticipation. He stops just above Jean’s pubes and runs his fingertips across the smooth skin of his lower stomach. “How long does it take you, like this?”

Jean doesn’t answer right away. Maybe he didn’t think he was expected to respond, or (probably) he was distracted by Marco’s hand.

“I dunno, haven’t timed it... a while? ‘s not easy.”

“It’d help if I jerked you off, wouldn’t it?” Marco whispers in his ear. Jean jolts and nods, bites his lip. Marco’s being so mean. He grins as he chastises himself, then licks the shell of Jean’s ear, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, you know it- please, will you?” Jean’s arm is moving faster.

“Mmm, not yet.” Jean gasps, Marco cuts him off. “Tell me how it feels, how close are you?”

“I- Why- I don’t know, why-“

“You’re doing so well, Jean. So hot. Can’t even begin to tell you, how perfect you are...” Jean’s muscles are dancing more randomly, he seems torn between the sweetness of Marco’s words and the screaming blood in his crotch.

“Marco…” Jean’s hand lifts off the bed and wraps itself around his cock, but Marco grabs it and pulls it away. He twines their fingers together and commits Jean’s broken groan to memory. “Baby… I can’t, please, you’re- you’re right there, why- won’t you-“ his voice is getting higher, more desperate, and his thrusts are getting rougher and faster.

“Are you gonna come?” Marco asks him, squeezing his hand. Jean squeezes back.

“You know- Can’t, I gotta- Please touch me, please, Marco, please-“

“Shhh. You’re so perfect, baby.” He moves his hand down, strokes Jean’s pubes, then gets off the bed and kneels between Jean’s legs before he has time to complain or question him. Marco grabs the dildo out of Jean’s hand and keeps thrusting it for him, the same pace he saw before, and takes his cock in his other hand. Jean nearly arches right off the bed, crying out loud enough for the neighbors to hear before biting his hand to shut himself up. Keeping his pace going hard and fast, Marco grabs Jean’s hand and puts it on his head, then leans over and takes him into his mouth.

Jean starts babbling furiously, half-sentences and noises and a lot of Marco’s name. Both hands tighten in Marco’s hair and he spreads his legs wider. Marco can tell that now he’s close, and ignores the burning pain in his scalp as Jean tightens up all over, too much for Marco to move his head, the dildo, anything, before Jean fills his mouth with his release.

Marco’s eyes start to water when he chokes a little on one last burst at the back of his throat, but he keeps himself still until Jean lets him go, limply. Marco pulls the dildo out, making Jean shudder.

“Jean, god.”

“Hmmm?” He turns on his side and looks at Marco. “Get on the bed, dork.”

Marco scrambles up and Jean grabs him, kisses him messily, and starts jacking him off quickly. He pulls away so he can breathe, hugging Jean tightly as he works him up. Marco was a little worried that Jean might tease him back, but… Well, he’s in good hands.