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Never has there been a more frustrating, agonizing, and- frankly- inconvenient time for Mac to be such a clueless, bumbling idiot. The worst thing about this whole situation is that Dennis never actually intended to tell Mac he was Johnny, but Mac drove him to confession, and now everything is ruined. Revealing himself… It was never part of the plan.
So, what was the plan, you ask? Well, admittedly, it had grown more and more murky as the weeks went on. In the beginning, one of the main advantages truly was getting Mac out of the house, because it’s true, he had been irritating Dennis- for quite a while now in fact. Things between the two best friends have been different in the last couple years, thing changing- become better, actually- during COVID and quarantine, with all those days, nights, weeks and months spent only them two, rewatching old favorite movies and binge watching nearly every show in Netflix’s catalog, cooking meals together and getting drunk to go aimlessly walk around after dinner, talking and talking about everything under the sun and more. Not to mention Punch Inc., God, that’s really when all of this mess started for Dennis, all this… yuckiness inside of him, this weird, twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach that makes him want to hurl.
The amount of hours the two of them spent on that old leather sofa, writing country love songs and practicing chord progressions over and over- it was the closest they’d been in what felt like a long time, a closeness that was easy as breathing, just like it always used to be. Mac was surprisingly a gifted guitar player from the very beginning, more so than Dennis even. One day, when him and Mac were sitting on Dennis’ bed working on an arrangement that Dennis was finding particularly tricky, he suddenly found Mac sliding into place behind him, chest pressed against his back as he placed his fingers over Dennis’, guiding them over the right frets and strings as his other arm reached around and plucked the rhythm of the song. Dennis’ breath had been entirely caught in his throat, goosebumps raising on his arms as he stuttered over his words, Mac’s voice saying “good job, Den,” right into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Mac had chuckled from behind Dennis, breathing warm air onto Dennis’ neck that made him relax almost instantly, subconsciously leaning further back into Mac. They both grew quite accustomed to that practice method over the too short lived life of Punch Inc.
Then there was Ireland. Goddamn, wool infested Ireland, where Mac suddenly regressed into the sexually insecure, identity obsessed character of his past, and Dennis couldn’t fucking take that again. His entire life he’s been tortured by Mac’s own inner turmoil: the religious fueled rants, the internalized homophobia, the pathetic, blatantly obvious repression and deflection of his sexuality. It followed Dennis around like his own personal raincloud, an extension of Mac’s storm that Dennis could never escape out from under. Obviously, things changed when Mac finally did come out, but even then the storm still raged on. It became so torrential that Dennis had to flee the state to try and dry out, and then things changed once again when he came back. Mac suddenly seemed to be standing in the sun, but Dennis was still shrouded in a darkness he couldn’t escape. Mac had become something entirely new to look at and harder to ignore, as was his love for Dennis that was unaffected by absence- strengthened ten-fold, even- and Dennis was constantly reminded of both why he left in the first place as well as why he had to come back.
It had hit Dennis in full force in North Dakota, the truth that he had put his life’s work into suppressing (most of the time successfully, sometimes not so much).
The truth? Dennis is gay.
Well, he actually isn’t exactly sure about that particular word, but he’s become all too painfully sure that he is attracted to men at least in addition to women. See, Dennis was able to somewhat comfortably identify as straight his entire life- despite the occasional, tequila fueled rendezvous with a few men here and there- because deep down, he knew (well, he used to think ) that if he found the right woman to settle down with, had a kid and a house in the suburbs, if he created this picturesque, heteronormative life that he knew he was born to have, things would eventually just click into place and feel right, right ? He thought he had begun to succeed with Maureen, when they got hitched and he kicked Mac out of the apartment all those years ago… and while that failed, it was just because Maureen was fucking crazy.
Mandy , though? Mandy was as normal as one could possibly be. This perfect life was practically handed to Dennis on a silver platter, a golden opportunity at the most sorely needed time, but once he had it all Dennis wanted to do was get rid of it. Mandy tried to suggest a number of times that they could parent Brian Jr. as a couple, they could get married even, but Dennis just felt completely, suffocatingly disinterested with the prospect of it all, of being stuck here forever, never to return to Philly or to the bar or to Mac ever again. So, Dennis failed again, a struggle made all the more fucking worse when layered on top the crushing, miserable feeling of fucking missing Mac weighing him down every hour of the waking day (and even in his dreams, goddammit. Dennis had too many dreams- nightmares , more like it- fueled by an imagination captivated by the pictures Mac would send him, gym selfies and shots of him and Charlie, all showing off Mac’s insane, new body). Dennis just couldn’t take it anymore. He barely recognized himself- this desperate, pining, insecure thing he had become. A failure in every sense of the word, in every facet of his incomplete life.
So he came back to Philly, determined for everything to just go back to normal , even if it met ignoring all the thoughts, the desire to walk across the hall to Mac’s bedroom in the middle of the night, to let Mac take care of him and take care of Mac in return. He did his best to suppress it all, every instinct and every urge. And it worked, for a while. But then Mac seduced him with songs about making love out in the fields, and then he came out the other side of his European identity crisis/exploration into the priesthood as even more of a whore who sucks and fucks his way through the entire Philly gay community, and- despite enjoying cracking jokes about how much time Mac spent blowing- Dennis eventually came to have quite enough of it. There was a weird sense of possessiveness growing stronger and more fierce inside Dennis with each passing Grindr hookup Mac went on. Mac would miss their movie nights, would skip out on dinner plans Dennis tried to make with him; if he was around, he was often on his phone, texting people Dennis didn’t know. It was all made even worse when the two started sleeping on the inflatable pull out together, something that started as simple product testing for their scheme, but then- despite the fact both the men’s beds still sit behind their closed bedroom doors- they just kept on sharing it. Dennis couldn’t fathom what was going through Mac’s head, how he never (how no one ) questioned why Dennis insisted they just sleep on it together, that Mac shouldn’t blow up another one of the many mattresses or that Dennis shouldn’t just go sleep in his own bed like a regular grown man would. Mac never questioned any of it, he didn’t even seem to care (too preoccupied with that goddamn stupid, rancid nut) when a few years ago Mac was practically begging that he and Dennis continue sharing a bed after moving out of Dee’s. Even worse, Dennis couldn’t shake the near rage coursing through him about the fact that Mac would come back to their shared apartment, slip into their shared bed just after having his dick inside some gross, lowly stranger (or their dick inside Mac- Dennis is pretty sure it’s a rotation for him). He would crawl under the blankets next to Dennis practically smelling like sex (sweat, unfamiliar cologne, a natural sort of Mac-musk that Dennis thinks he could identify blind), pretending that everything was fine, and it all made Dennis sick. The jealousy- or whatever it was- eventually grew to a boiling point where Dennis just had to do something, and thus Johnny was born. It was easy, really, too easy. He made a Grindr account using random, faceless pictures from the internet (he couldn’t risk Mac recognizing his familiar, lithe and feminine form), and after just a few hours of talking to Mac, complimenting him and asking him get-to-know-you questions all of which Dennis already knew the answers to, he had him right in the palm of his hand. It was actually kind of concerning how quickly Mac got on board with the whole anal beads thing, allowing a stranger he’s never met or even seen to infiltrate his body and control him whenever he pleased.
Again, that particular part of the plan- the anal beads of it all- really did come about with the intention of getting Mac out of the apartment to curb Dennis’ growing irritation with him. Mac never shut up about Johnny- “he’s so funny, Dennis”, “listen to what he said to me last night, Dennis, it’s so hot ”, “I really want to meet up with him, Dennis, the sex would be so romantic, I just know it.” It was so goddamn irritating. Mac’s obsession with slutting himself out and telling Dennis all about his conquests simply shifted into constant ramblings about his boyfriend Johnny (Dennis nearly spit out his coffee the first time he heard Mac call him his boyfriend- call Johnny his boyfriend- a label he decided to use all of his own). It was all Mac talked about anymore, and the plan concocted to solve Dennis’ troubles was failing miserably as now he just felt that burning hatred toward his own alter ego rather than random twinks- God, what a mess. However, it was slightly satisfying for Dennis’ to have this new power over Mac by way of his prostate- he’ll give the scheme that credit where it’s due. The way Mac would drop everything at a moment’s notice the minute Dennis opened the app and turned on the beads sent chills down his spine. Watching Mac fly out the door to go wait at a cheap motel where Johnny was waiting for him , the complete and freely given submission was mind boggling. Though, Johnny was never going to show up, of course. Had Dennis thought about it? Sure. Did he agonize over it, basically holding himself down not to get up and go when he read Mac’s texts: where are you? pls come. i wanna meet you, wanna touch you, wanna fuck you. are you coming? please, johnny? Maybe. Maybe he agonized over it a little, maybe he jerked off about it a little too as he controlled Mac’s beads from miles away, getting off on knowing he was making Mac cum all alone on a dirty mattress where he lay desperate for Dennis’ affection. Johnny’s . Fuck…
It all became way too much one late night last week, when Mac and Dennis lay in bed together, way too drunk on a bottle of whiskey they took home from the bar. Mac, as always these days, started talking about Johnny, insisting Dennis let him read him the messages he had sent Mac last night. Dennis begged him not to, because Dennis obviously already knew what it said, and the last thing he needed right now was to hear it repeated from Mac’s lips. Having also been similarly drunk last night, Dennis was painfully aware of how things had gotten a little out of hand between Johnny and Mac last night. Dennis usually tried to stay aloof- give Mac just enough to stay interested but not enough to get attached. That clearly wasn’t working, though, and so over the past few days Dennis had let more and more slip, unable to contain some of his own genuine, deeply repressed thoughts that began to bubble up and seep through Johnny’s cracks.
Mac ignored Dennis’ protests and took out his phone, leaping right into reciting one of Dennis’ ( JOHNNY’S ) texts, sent in reply to a full body (fully nude and whorish ) picture Mac had sent him:
“God, baby, you’re so hot. You’re perfect. I wanna touch you, I wanna fuck you so bad. God, your cock is so big, I’d probably even let you fuck me with it. Do you wanna fuck me, baby? You want me to keep the beads in, play with your ass while you play with mine? Fuck, Mac.” Mac whined as he said his own name. “ I’m sorry I didn’t show up tonight, I’m so sorry, something came up. I’m gonna come next time, I promise, I need you so bad, I really do baby, fuck.”
Mac read it all, his voice low and too close to Dennis’ ear. Dennis felt like he was going to have an aneurysm- he remembered thinking it was hot when he sent it (he might’ve been touching himself when he wrote it, eyes glancing up to Mac’s picture as he typed), but hearing Mac read it to him , hearing his desperate inflection on words like fuck, baby, cock, as he basically whimpered- God, Dennis was going to pass out. His entire body (and, damningly, probably his face too) was flushed, and he had to bite his lip when Mac finished reading it and looked at him with blown pupils, his own cheeks blushing. Dennis cursed himself as he started feeling the same physical effects the paragraph had on him the night before take hold of him then.
“Like, holy shit, Dennis.” Mac sighed dreamingly. “Isn’t that so hot?” He asked expectantly.
Dennis gulped, only able to weakly nod in response. Mac grinned, flopping down backward to lay on his pillow, grasping at his heart like a fainted southern belle. “He’s just so sweet, and so sexy , and the things he sends me- fuck- it’s not like anything anyone’s ever said to me. It’s like we know each other so well, we need each other, you know? In this deep, sexual way, but also like, in a soulmate kind of way? I think we kind of belong together.” He finished bashfully.
Dennis was at a loss, staring at Mac with dumbfounded shock. His skin felt hot all over, and his head was swimming. Mac didn’t even notice as he just started rambling on again, his expression turning a bit forlorn as he stared up at the ceiling. “I just don’t know why he never shows up… I know he wants me, and God, he knows how much I want him because I definitely make it clear how much I wanna bang- and I wanna bang him really bad , Dennis, like more than I’ve ever wanted to bang anyone else, ever .” He looked right at Dennis then, eyes full of want and lust and something else Dennis wasn’t sure of. He was looking at Dennis like he was waiting for a response, but Dennis had none, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His throat had gone completely dry, and he sputtered out a cough, leaping off the bed at once as the close proximity and heat of Mac’s body became all too much for Dennis to withstand.
Mac looked surprised at the sudden distance, raising an eyebrow in quizzical suspicion. Dennis prayed to the God he doesn’t believe in that Mac’s gaze didn’t travel south to Dennis’ growing erection.
“Um,” Dennis stuttered, aware he had to say something . “Uh- that’s tough, buddy. Real tough.” With that he raced into his bedroom, groaning as he flopped face first onto his untouched bed, still made from a week ago. It was after he jerked off (quickly, furiously, and without much enjoyment as he focused determined attention into keeping his mind completely blank) that he realized with painful post nut clarity that this experiment had to end immediately.
That’s how the S.I.N.N.E.D. system came into play. Everything was going fine at first, and with expert deflection and practiced method, Dennis successfully set Mac up for a second date with a perfectly suitable candidate, all the while reducing him and Johnny’s communication down to zero. Everything was going according to (the new and improved) plan, until Mac said he wasn’t going to go on the second date and, instead, decided to drop an atomic bomb in the bar and confess that he’s in love with Johnny. With that, Dennis just couldn’t contain it any longer, something inside him fucking broke. You see, the real kicker in all of this was that Dennis wasn’t really trying that hard to hide Johnny’s true identity. From barely editing his life story (he has twin sister named Jenna, he went to Penn for veterinary studies and psychology, he’s a bartender , for fuck’s sake- he didn’t get creative with it at all), to obvious, blatant hints such as sending Mac out on a fruitless mission to get Johnny soft shell crab, of which afterward when Johnny was no where to be found, Dennis comforted Mac by eating them with him, because they are his favorite . Mac didn’t even pick up on the fact that Johnny’s distance away on Grindr said 50ft. Mac is a fucking idiot , so much so he supposedly fell in love with a faceless man who never shows up and ghosts him over and over again. Dennis created Johnny as a diversionary tactic at best, he never intended for Mac to fall in love with him, and thus fall out of love with Dennis. The whole point was to reign Mac in, to remind him who he’s really loyal to, who he needs to prioritize. It had all gone too far, though, and that’s what made Dennis explode.
“That’s- that’s the thing,” Dennis told him. “Johnny doesn’t love you, he doesn’t even like you.”
“You don’t know him!” Mac accused him defensively.
“No, no, no- you don’t know him.” Dennis spit back.
“I know him better than you!”
“Do you?” Dennis asked, voice rising in hysteria, and the words came out before he could stop them. “Because I am him!”
Of course Mac doesn’t get it, of course he would refuse to even try and comprehend the reality they’ve both stumbled into. Mac’s been dating Dennis the entire goddamn time, and even after Dennis drugs him and takes the beads out himself (a harrowing ordeal Dennis can’t ever think about again except for in the privacy of his own shower), Mac just thinks Johnny broke up with him and simply disappeared from his asshole. Even when, many hours after Frank successfully won the chess match and Mac literally sees the beads dangling down from where they sit in Dennis’ palm (after being furiously, repeatedly sanitized after leaving Frank’s disgusting anal cavity, another harrowing ordeal that, while administered by Charlie- thank God - being witness was enough trauma, and Dennis will most definitely never think about that again under any circumstances for the rest of his life), Mac still refuses to believe.
“What more do I have to do to prove to you I am Johnny ? For fuck’s sake! I showed you the text messages, I showed you that his profile is my profile, I literally have the beads right here, Mac, look-” He gets out his phone (screen still cracked, but operable now), quickly opening the app and turning them on with a practiced swipe of his finger. The beads vibrate in Dennis’ hand, and he sees Mac flinch. “How come you still don’t get it? ”
“Because it doesn’t make any sense !” Mac jumps up from where he’s sat on the couch, face flushed and eyes blown wide. “You’re nothing like Johnny! He was sweet, he was constantly telling me- telling me how sexy I was, how much he wanted to be with me.” Mac swallows hard, pained. “He loved me, Dennis. You are nothing like him.”
Dennis laughs, hysterical and without humor. “How am I nothing like him when I quite literally am him, Mac? It was me, it was always me .” He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from where Mac’s eyes bore into him. “It’s not my fault if you can’t accept that.”
Mac scoffs back at him, reappearing in Dennis’ eyeline as he steps toward him. “Accept what ? That you tricked me? That you’ve embarrassed me, manipulated me, made me fall in love with you again to just break my heart for- for what? Your own amusement?”
“No.” Is all Dennis can say in response as he continues staring at his shoes, unable to make eye contact with Mac’s rage. No- this is hardly amusing. It all feels like utter shit, and there’s nothing Dennis can say to make it better. There’s no reason he can come up with, no excuse he can craft when he himself can’t understand (or can’t admit ) why he’s done any of this, let alone how either of them are supposed to accept this and move past it.
“Then why did you do it, Dennis?” Mac asks right then, tortuously. “What was the point of all of this?” His voice sounds angry, but when Dennis finally looks up at him, he just appears sad, eyebrows knit together in hurt and confusion.
What is Dennis supposed to say? I wanted to control you, I wanted you closer, I wanted you for me and only me?
“God, man.” Mac sighs, deflated. “You know what, don’t even bother. I don’t think I can believe anything you say anymore. You, Johnny, whoever you are- it’s all bullshit. Nothing you say is real, it’s all so fucking fake, just lie after lie.” He sounds defeated, beginning to walk away, giving up on Dennis once and for all. He’s finally had enough.
“I’m real!” Dennis shouts out, choked, stopping Mac in his tracks. He gives Dennis a challenging look, stepping back over to him.
“ Really? ” He asks, right up next to Dennis now and pushing him backward by the chest with both his hands, not very rough but enough to make Dennis stumble backward. “Can you even feel this?” Mac asks more venomously, pushing him again, harder, and again, and again, until Dennis is backed up against the wall. “Can you even feel anything anymore?”
Mac’s face is steely, so close to Dennis’, who tries to maintain expressionless eyes and not let the fear and anxiety and want bleed through his features. He pushes Mac back, trying to put brute force behind it but Mac barely moves a single muscle. “Of course I feel , asshole. I feel… numerous different emotions.” He says, sentence trailing off weakly.
Mac shakes his head at him, looking disappointed as he crowds into Dennis closer. “Why do you lie to me, Dennis?”
Dennis lets out a shuddering breath, shaking his head. “I’m not lying about anything, Mac.” He’s not, Mac has to believe him. Of course Dennis feels, he thinks he feels more than anyone else he knows. Besides Mac, maybe. But he feels, he fucking feels a lot. Why doesn’t Mac believe him, why does Mac never want to believe him?
Mac chuckles darkly. “Then tell me one thing, okay?”
Dennis waits for him to continue, feeling icy cold nerves flow through his bloodstream.
“Why do you have a foolproof system for seducing a man?” Mac asks, voice low right in Dennis’ ear, and he actually shudders in response.
“I- uh,” Dennis stutters like an idiot before Mac cuts him off.
“Actually, stop. You don’t need to answer that, I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. Shushing us like that, Dennis? You think I wouldn’t immediately catch on to that? As if I wasn’t the expert of that kind of deflection? No, no- what I really wanna know is how. ”
“H-how?” Dennis asks, slipping into a panic now at Mac’s unusually canny observation (or maybe not so canny- because Mac certainly wasn’t an expert of deflection, so maybe Dennis isn’t either…). Mac rolls his eyes at him, as if irritated Dennis doesn’t understand. His face is so close to Dennis’, he can smell the faint alcohol still on his breath from the shots both of them were slamming hours ago at the bar. “ How have you used your little system, huh? Have you been using it on me?” He moves impossibly closer, face now mere inches from Dennis’, who looks down at Mac’s lips subconsciously, only after the fact realizing that Mac definitely saw it happen, and his expression darkens. “What step are we on now?”
“Mac,” Dennis whimpers, looking at him pleadingly. He doesn’t know what to say, he can’t say it. “Mac, please.”
“Please what, Dennis?”
Dennis closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath through his nose. He feels like Mac’s cut him open, laid him down on a surgical table and is sifting through all his guts and organs, inspecting and dissecting everything within Dennis, all the disease that’s been festering there for decades. He isn’t stupid, he understands that, regrettably, Mac (and less consequently, Dee) have seen Dennis revealed in a way Mac was over and over and over again all those years he was still clinging to the inside of the closet. Dennis has been too vulnerable, too truthful despite all the lies and the fake persona and the date scheming bullshit. Mac is seeing Dennis, scrutinizing him the same way Dennis used to scrutinize Mac’s frustratedly blind and stubborn denial. He’s overcome with shame, with the urge to run far, far away, but Mac still has him backed up against the wall with no room to flee.
The truth is, Dennis knows what step they’re on. They’ve been cycling through the steps of the S.I.N.N.E.D. system for years , a wild and sometimes violent rotation, but never one that extended past that second N. Anything beyond that has always been off the table for Dennis, something he’s denied that he’s wanted for so long until it just became this untouchable thing he came to accept he’d never have. At this point, he isn’t sure he could take it, he doesn’t know what he would do. It would be like getting up on stage for a full house and not knowing any of your lines. Dennis has never had sex with someone he… that he cares for, like he cares for Mac. With someone who cares for Dennis, the way Mac does. It’s true that the system is foolproof, it’s worked many times for Dennis- mostly in the distant, cloudily recalled past. But with Mac- he realized long ago there’s no system Dennis could use on him. They’re wrapped up in too much chaos, too much unpredictability and confusion and quiet, stinging desperation. Mac and Dennis are beyond remedy.
“It was all real.” Dennis says finally, demure, looking just to the left of Mac’s eye line. “Everything-” he starts, swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. “Everything I said was real, Mac. I am Johnny, Johnny was me. There’s- um- there’s no separation, really.”
Mac tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy dog. “Really? So you meant everything you said?” He asks disbelievingly.
Dennis is breathing hard, trying to control his nerves but unable to get a foothold. He feels every semblance of control slipping through his grasp. He’s exposed, a live wire ready to shock when touched. But he pushes through, and nods affirmatively at Mac, who- the Devil he is- smirks in response as he tips his head to speak directly into Dennis’ ear.
“You meant it when you said you wanted to see me naked, Dennis? That you wanted to touch me, kiss me? That you wanted me to fuck you till you can’t speak, can’t move, can’t even remember your own name? If I remember correctly, you told me you wanted me to make you cry on my cock . Is that all true, Dennis?”
On instinct, Dennis reaches out and grips Mac’s hips. Mac draws his face back to look at him, his face suddenly gone from sinister to surprised, as if he hasn’t been egging Dennis on for far too long now. Mac will push and push, but always retreat into disbelief when Dennis decides to give in. But decide to give in he does, because he is so exhausted from denying himself- both of them, really- that all he can do is lean forward, laying his head on Mac’s shoulder. Mac flinches, but doesn’t step back. When Dennis nuzzles into Mac’s neck, hiding his face there, Mac tentatively brings his hands around Dennis’ hips, matching Dennis' position where his own arms wrap tighter around Mac.
“It’s true, Mac.” Dennis whispers. “Fuck- I meant all of it, I promise.”
Mac inhales sharply, and Dennis can feel his rapid heartbeat quicken. “I want to believe you, Dennis.” He says, words coming out choked. “I- I want you .”
Dennis retreats from Mac’s neck to look at him, to see those wide, begging eyes that have been Dennis’ home since he was fifteen.
God, he’s exhausted.
“I know, Mac.” He placates. “I know, baby.” He brings his hand to Mac’s face, cupping his cheek and drawing him in closer, closer than ever before. Dennis can feel Mac’s breath on his lips. He looks down at them, a hungry feeling stirring within him, making him say aloud, voice barely a whisper, “I want you too.” Then he leans in, mind acting separate from body, and kisses Mac. Mac doesn’t miss a beat, and in a second he’s moaning into Dennis’ mouth and using his grip on Dennis’ waist to pull their entire bodies flush together. Dennis, feeling weak and pliable, opens his mouth at once for Mac to lick inside, sliding wet and hot against Dennis’ tongue, and he feels himself melt as his arms wrap around Mac’s shoulders. The moment feels like it lasts a (long, incredible) lifetime, Mac’s mouth desperately soft and pillowy against his as he paws greedily at Dennis’ skin, his hands having already slipped below the fabric of his t-shirt. Dennis can’t breathe, the room is getting dark and he forces himself to rip away from Mac’s mouth, panting. Insatiable, Mac goes for Dennis’ cheeks, his jaw, kissing down to his neck and breathing hard against the skin as he laps at the tiny bites he leaves, making Dennis whine. Through the haze of his current mental state, Dennis hopes Mac marks him up, hopes he leaves him painted with bruises and hickeys so that Dennis can do the same to him, so that everyone who sees them will know they did it to each other.
“Fuck, Mac.” Dennis gasps, grasping onto Mac’s hair as his hand suddenly cups Dennis’ crotch, squeezing and palming at his erection with hungry desperation, his lips restless as they suck on the sensitive skin of Dennis’ neck. Dennis is furiously squeezing his eyes shut, putting every ounce of the little effort left within him to not bust right here and now simply by Mac touching him over his clothes as he attacks Dennis’ neck like a starving man finally given a meal. “Mac, baby.” He whines, bucking up into Mac’s hand like he can’t help it, and Mac honest to God growls.
“God, Dennis.” Mac grinds his entire body into Dennis’, resting his forehead against Dennis’ as he pants. “ What is happening? ” He asks pleadingly.
Dennis has no goddamn idea, all he knows is he can’t let it stop, he needs more and more of this, of Mac, of his mouth and his hands and his- fuck- his hard dick that Dennis can feel rubbing up against his thigh.
“ Please .” Is all Dennis can say after that, the only word that can really communicate what he’s feeling, what he needs, of which he isn’t completely sure of, but he just knows he needs it , needs Mac, needs him to just… “Take care of me, Mac.” He says, running a hand through Mac’s hair. “Just- just take me.”
Mac moans in response, kissing Dennis again with a different kind of hunger now, one more slow and steady, a rolling boil instead of an overflowing mess. “Dennis,” he breathes out, reverently. “I- I can’t believe this is. I- you- you’re all I’ve ever wanted, Den, God.”
The combination of words and Mac kissing along the entire exposed surface area of his skin, it’s all too much. “Shit, Mac. I don’t even- I can’t-”
Mac shushes him gently and moves his hands entirely around Dennis’ middle, hugging him. Taken aback, Dennis is frozen, and lets Mac just hold him tightly, head pushed into his neck. He doesn’t know how to respond at first, just hovering his hands over Mac’s body before he lets himself sink into it, hugging Mac back. He would feel awkward- how long they’ve now just been standing here silently hugging- if it didn’t feel so weirdly, bizarrely good. Amazing, somehow. Dennis feels warm to the core in a way he’s never been before, not wrapped up in blankets or sat next to a fire, and certainly not while being held by anyone else in the past. Come to think of it, Dennis isn’t sure if anyone ever has held him like this before, not post coitus or in a forced intimacy way that makes Dennis want to crawl out of his own skin- no, this isn’t like that at all. Dennis feels wholly safe, rooted inside his body and so real . It’s all so real.
“You know,” Mac suddenly speaks up, voice low and gentle. “I meant everything too, everything I said in those texts with- with you.”
Dennis thinks he knows where Mac is going and desperately doesn’t want him to say it. He can’t hear it right now, he doesn’t know what it’ll do to him, what it might cause him to do in response, what he might say back in return. He holds Mac tighter, bracing himself.
“I love you, Dennis.” Mac says right into his ear, and Dennis’ heart stops, the whole world stops, ceasing to spin on its axis. “You’re right. It was you, it was always you. I knew it the whole time.”
Dennis pulls back at once, looking at Mac shocked, because, what? “What?”
Mac smiles bashfully. “Okay, maybe I didn’t know for sure- mostly because it made no sense, why would you… but yeah, I was pretty sure. I mean, c’mon man- I know you.”
Dennis can’t help but smile despite the slight humiliation upon realizing he hadn’t been manipulating Mac as much as thought he was, but that doesn’t matter anymore, because Mac knew. All day, Dennis has been worried Mac would never believe that it was him who he was texting, that he would go through the rest of the life refusing to accept that it was Dennis making him feel that way; that if it was real, if Dennis was really himself, Mac wouldn’t want him like that anymore.
“I wanted you to know.” Dennis admits shyly. “I, kept dropping hints, I-” Mac watches him knowingly, and he can’t keep going, just gives up and kisses Mac, deep and dirty. He wants to get them back on track they were careening down just a moment ago that was making Dennis suffocate in the best way humanly possible. He would go without ever getting a full breath of air ever again if it meant Mac would never stop kissing him. “I want you so bad, Mac, I have for- for a really long time. And I- fuck- I…” He wants to say it. He really does, confessions coming easier as they keep spilling out. But Mac knows him , and understands him without words, diving in to kiss him passionately.
“I really want to fuck you, Dennis.” Mac says into his mouth, a pleading tone. “Do you want that?”
Dennis just moans into Mac’s mouth and lets him walk him backward. Mac goes toward the inflatable couch, and Dennis groans again but in negation this time.
“No, no,” he mumbles. “Bed. My bed.”
Mac just nods, both men unable to stop kissing for longer than a second. Dennis has been hungry before, it might be one of the emotions he’s most well acquainted with: bone deep, gnawing, painful hunger, one that overtakes both your entire body and mind, making you feel weak and that you’d do anything for satiation. Dennis knows hunger, but he’s never, not once felt it like he is now. He wants to devour Mac whole, clawing at him and sucking at his plump lips, gliding his tongue along the bottom, and if he bites down a little, Mac doesn’t mind- seems to like it, actually, as it’s then he insists they take their clothes off.
“I wanna see you, Dennis, please, you’re so sexy.” Mac begs, voice and gaze reverent. Dennis can’t even respond, just lets Mac take his t-shirt off, and Mac immediately dives in, licking a stripe along Dennis’ nipple as he wastes no time in going to pull down Dennis’ pants.
“Mac, what the fuck,” Dennis exhales, feeling lightheaded. Mac is unwrapping him with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning, and shit, Dennis wants Mac to open him up so badly, tear him apart and play with him for hours. “You, you- fuck, c’mere.” He babbles senselessly as Mac stands up straight after stripping off Dennis’ sweats. Mac smiles at him, goofy and ecstatic, and Dennis feels himself blush as strips off Mac’s tank top, letting the man clumsily tug off his own jeans. When he’s done he wraps an arm around Dennis’ back, but Dennis leans back in the embrace so he can look at Mac. He sighs, feeling almost a sense of relief as he runs his hand up and down Mac’s chest and torso, drinking in the view, feeling him, finally . “Mac, y-you’re-” he stutters, breathing out hard again to release the air getting trapped inside his throat, choking him up. “You’re perfect.” He lets himself admit, with the most genuine sincerity. Dennis has spent his life affirming to himself that he is perfect, he is the Golden God- but seeing Mac like this, tan, chiseled skin that Dennis can finally reach out and touch… Mac is the real Golden God. He’s Adonis, Achilles, Apollo, a vision of beauty that makes Dennis wish he was a sculptor so he could capture Mac’s likeness in immortal marble.
Dennis must be looking at Mac weird, because now Mac is looking at him weird, and Dennis cocks an eyebrow, asking, “what?”
Mac just shakes his head, laughing affectionately. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
Dennis smiles back, squeezing one of Mac’s pecs, and his eyes flutter shut just for a moment. Dennis revels in the reaction prompted by such a slight touch, he thinks about what Mac would look like when Dennis really takes him apart, what faces he would pull and what sounds he would make- Dennis can feel his erection stiffen further under his boxers.
“You dream about this, baby?” Dennis asks softly. “About me?”
Mac’s eyes are wide, glassy almost. “Every night, Den.”
Dennis’ breath hitches, and he grabs Mac’s arms, walking backward until the back of his knees hit the bed and Mac gets the idea, gently pushing Dennis down and letting him crawl up to rest against the pillows before climbing on top of him, straddling him between his legs. “What do you dream about, Mac? Tell me what you want to do to me.” He pleads breathlessly.
Mac looks at him wide eyed, shaking his head like he doesn’t even know how to begin. “Kiss you, hold you, make you feel good. I always wanna make you feel good, Dennis.” He says, dipping down closer to him and kissing his neck. Dennis immediately moves his head to allow Mac more access, bringing his hand up to grip Mac’s hair. “What else, baby?” Dennis eggs him on, knowing that Mac is- well- he’s a pervert. He likes extra large anal beads and being controlled through an app by anonymous online boyfriends, he likes threesomes and fingers in his mouth. Dennis knows Mac is depraved, just as depraved as Dennis- it’s why they belong together. “Tell me, please .”
Mac whines quietly against Dennis’ skin, grinding down into him so minutely it seems subconscious. “I- I always imagined you- you sneaking into my bed while- while I was asleep.” He starts nervously, forcing out the words like he can barely stomach it. “And- and you’d kiss me awake, and ask me to fuck you, because you needed me so bad, you couldn’t sleep without me making you cum. And- and I’d lay you down, and I’d make love to you, Dennis, and- and fuck ,” He cuts himself off with a kiss to Dennis’ lip like he’d read his mind, knowing Dennis needed his mouth right that instant. Dennis holds Mac’s face in one hand, rubbing his thumb along his cheek soothingly while he grabs Mac’s hand in his, guiding it toward his own hard cock. He makes Mac feel it, and grinds up into his palm when he rubs against it.
“I’m so hard for you, do you feel that? It’s all for you, I’m all for you, Mac.” It’s so cheesy, but Dennis doesn’t care, especially not when it makes Mac whine again and start to tug off Dennis’ boxers. In a clumsy flurry of movement they both strip down bare, and Mac grinds down into Dennis at once, the entire expanse of their naked bodies finding sweet, blissful friction against one another. Mac reaches down again and wraps his long, rough fingers around Dennis’ cock, rubbing his thumb against the head and using the precum already leaking there to glide down, jerking Dennis off agonizingly slow. Dennis bites his lip, pulling Mac’s cheek flush to his, a weirdly intimate move that Dennis can’t help but crave, sink into.
“This is too good, Dennis, you’re so- God- you’re so good, this is- this is perfect.” Mac babbles, panting and red only by touching Dennis, who has his hands only braced on Mac’s shoulders, nails sinking into the freckled skin there. “ Please, can I-”
“ Yes,” Dennis answers quickly, bucking his hips up into Mac’s strokes. It feels so good, he needs Mac to stop, it’s too much already. But at the same time he needs him to keep going, to never stop, to make Dennis come again and again until his mind shuts off and he can only think about how good Mac is, and he’s so, so good. “Just- Mac- fuck me, I really need you to fuck me now.”
It’s funny that Mac’s wet dreams have been for Dennis to wake him up in the middle of the night begging for sex, when Dennis’ own fantasy isn’t far off, but is probably more fucked up. He never lets himself acknowledge the desire, but he’s certainly imagined it many, many times: Mac sneaking into his bed at night, pulling his clothes off and opening him up just enough with quick but gentle movements while Dennis still lays unconscious. Mac entering his sleeping form, fucking him sweet and slow in a way that wouldn’t be enough for Dennis should he be awake, but enough to make Mac feel good, to grip and tug his dick in an unknowing and barely prepped tightness. Then he’d start fucking into him in earnest, at last waking Dennis up to half consciousness, a loopy and blissed out state of pleasure that he’s plunged into before even full waking, already halfway to orgasm even though he hasn’t even opened his eyes. He’d start whining, start writhing around and clenching Mac’s cock that leaks inside of him, and Mac would come and pull out before Dennis could even catch up to him. Then Mac could just leave him there, used and still gaping and wet enough to slip right back into if he wanted to.
“Please, baby.” Dennis begs again as Mac hasn’t rested in jerking him off, the physical and mental stimuli all combined about to bring Dennis right over the edge. Mac must understand the warning as he stops his hand and shimmies down the bed a bit, resting on his stomach between Dennis’ open legs, eyeline with his cock. Dennis looks down to see Mac actually lick his lips, staring at his erection.
“Your dick is so pretty, man.” Mac says. “So pretty, so big .”
Dennis’ stomach swoops, dropping completely when, without warning, Mac leans in and takes Dennis’ dick in his mouth, all the way down at first before he comes back up to swirl his tongue along the head. Dennis’ hand immediately flies out to grab Mac’s hair, something he’s already become addicted to, feeling thankful as well for the fact Mac threw away all that stupid gel, because Dennis thinks he’d die if he couldn’t run his hand through Mac’s hair like this, pulling on it as the wet heat of his mouth engulfs Dennis in flames.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, wanted to feel you in my mouth.” Mac pulls back to say, accenting the sentence with a long lick along the vein of Dennis’ cock. “You taste so good.”
Dennis dares to open his eyes and look down at Mac, finding him full on dry humping the mattress beneath him as he continues sucking Dennis off with enthusiasm you only see in porn. Dennis moan, also like a porn star, using his grip on Mac’s hair to try and pull him off, of which Mac doesn’t obey until Dennis is begging, “stop, Mac, please, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”
Mercifully, Mac pulls away before Dennis can truly embarrass himself and ruin everything (if Dennis came before Mac got inside of him, he might cry), and he wipes his mouth with his thumb, sucking it clean when he’s done. The image makes Dennis’ eye roll back, and he tugs Mac up to him for a kiss.
“Lube?” He asks into his mouth, fervently, and Mac quickly scrambles to pull open Dennis’ bedside table drawer where he retrieves the bottle, leaving behind the condoms Dennis knows are also in there. He doesn’t care, though (secretly is kind of glad), knowing that Mac hasn’t fucked anyone for weeks since he started talking to Johnny, and Dennis hasn’t for far longer than that.
Mac squirts some lube onto his fingers, warming it up as he looks at Dennis with deep admiration. “I’m gonna take such good care of you, Den, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.” Dennis replies, trying to sound confident but it comes out breathless and totally unsure. He swallows hard, saying something he believes more, “I trust you.”
Mac smiles brightly, and with his clean hand rubs Dennis' thigh soothingly and he coaxes his legs further apart, bringing his other hand down to circle Dennis’ rim softly, getting it wet. Dennis bites his lip, focusing on the sound of Mac’s breathing and his hand on his leg. A deep whine is forced out of him when Mac’s finger probes him, pushing in slowly.
“It’s okay, I got you.” Mac whispers, kissing the inside of Dennis’ thigh which makes him whine again, this time on the stretched out syllable of “ Maaaac .” The physical sensation itself isn’t new, but is unfamiliar in so many ways beyond the simple fact that no one’s fingers have touched Dennis like this for years besides his own, and even then, it’s never been anything like this. Mac’s fingers are thick, just one causing him to stretch, the feeling not becoming comfortable for a couple minutes, and then Mac is adding another finger without asking, just knowing that Dennis can handle it, that he wants it. After a moment of letting him adjust to the intrusion, Mac begins scissoring him open.
Dennis whimpers, grabbing onto Mac’s biceps. “Mac, I need-”
“I know,” Mac answers quickly, shifting upward to kiss Dennis deeply. How does he keep doing that, reading Dennis’ mind, just knowing what he needs? Maybe they’ve always been this in tune, it just wasn’t as clear before as it is now.
The gentle thrusting of Mac’s fingers finally starts to feel overwhelmingly good yet overwhelmingly not enough at the same time. “More,” Dennis whines, almost petulantly, and Mac chuckles fondly, kissing Dennis’ cheeks, telling him, “Need to open you up more, baby.” The pet name, despite Dennis having used it an already embarrassing amount, hits him completely differently when Mac uses it- hits him straight in the chest, makes him want to cry out and beg even harder till Mac gives in. The effect must be obvious, because Mac gives in anyway just hearing Dennis’ pathetic and yearning whimpering. With three fingers in, it only takes a minute for Dennis to start writhing around, his grip on Mac’s arms becoming deathly.
“You’re doing so good, Dennis, honey , so good.” Mac says into Dennis’ ear, kissing the nape of neck below it. Dennis drinks in the praise with a moan and he grinds down into Mac’s fingers, desperately needing it harder. “So good for me, pretty baby, I love you like this.”
Dennis keens, sweaty and panting underneath Mac. He can’t take it anymore, he feels like he’s been waiting for years for Mac to just get inside of him. He wants Mac so deep he feels him in every corner of his body, in every nerve ending. He’d let Mac crawl completely inside of him, build a home in his ribcage and live there forever, if it was possible. He needs Mac so deep he’ll be a part of him forever, no matter distance or time. He needs Mac to make Dennis his, wholly and completely, wants him to ruin Dennis for anyone else, and vice versa. There’s no way there can be anyone else for either of them after this (there never was to begin with, Dennis just didn’t know it. Mac might’ve.)
“Now, Mac, please.” Dennis has never said please so many times in his life, but he would beg forever if he had to. He’d never have to with Mac, though, knows it as Mac pulls his fingers out of Dennis, making him shudder with a chill that’s quickly absolved as Mac lifts himself onto his knees, hovering closely over him, letting his body heat seep right through Dennis’ pale skin.
“Okay, baby, okay.” Mac placates, kissing Dennis chastely before retrieving the lube to pour a glob onto his hand of which he uses to coat his dick. Dennis gazes hungrily at the sight- Mac is big, girthier than Dennis, and he has to close his eyes and take a deep breath just to maintain composure. Mac sets the bottle aside and extends one arm out against the bed, holding himself up as his other arm guides his slicked up dick against Dennis’ hole, rubbing in circular motions against it. Mac bites his lip, a whimper seeping through and Dennis can’t help but mirror the action. As Mac finally starts to push in, he pitches forward to attach his mouth to Dennis’ neck, biting (Dennis knows for sure he’ll get his wish, Mac is most definitely marking him up like crazy down there, and it drives him wild). Dennis grips onto his hair with one hand, the other reaching down to rub and scratch at Mac’s back.
“Good job, Dennis, good.” Mac says, running his hand up and down Dennis’ side in a soothing motion. The words make Dennis feel hot to the core, he wants to hear them over and over again, Mac’s low sexy voice in his ear, saying his name, telling him how good he is. Mac is only just now buried to the hilt and Dennis already feels like he’s floating.
“ Fuuuck me, Mac,” he pleads, words coming out in one stretched out whine. “Fuck me now, God.” He’s losing his grip on reality, Mac’s scent, his heat, the little pants and firm touch overpowering his senses. It’s like Dennis pressed a button, triggering Mac’s hips and making him pull out halfway before slamming back in rough, probably too rough if it wasn’t Dennis, if he wasn’t aching to be destroyed.
“You’re so tight, fuck .” Mac moans, high pitched and needy. “I- I can’t believe I’m inside you, you feel so good, feel just like I knew you would. Better.”
Dennis throws his head back, a loud groan escaping like it was punched out of him as Mac drives into him hard, striking the bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of him. He gasps, throwing an arm over his face of which Mac immediately tears away. “Don’t do that, don’t.” Mac protests, commands. “I wanna see you, sweetheart.”
“Oh God, Mac.” Dennis keens. “ Fuck, you feel so good, so full right now.”
Mac grins at him, his hips flush with Dennis’ as he just grinds into him, deep and dirty, hitting Dennis’ prostate every time and making utterly unattractive but uncontrollable noises escape Dennis’ lips.
“You like that, baby?” Mac asks him. “You like how my dick feels inside you? You like how I fuck you?” His hand rubs up Dennis’ side to his chest, fondling his pec and taking a nipple between two fingers, squeezing.
“I love it, God, fuck, Mac , I love it.” He moans out.
Mac groans loudly in response, seizing Dennis’ mouth in his as he starts pulling out and slamming back in with renewed force. Mac is so strong, has so much power, Dennis feels like a fool for ever thinking he could control him. Dennis has only ever been able to control Mac because Mac lets him.
Mac is kissing him like he’s been starving for decades- he has been, Dennis remembers - and Dennis feels even more foolish for being too blinded by insecurity and doubt to not realize he never needed Johnny or any other scheme to make Mac his because he always has been. Mac is a loyal dog, has always been trailing right behind Dennis waiting for any crumbs, desperate to just give his affection and receive Dennis’ in return. Dennis has wasted so many years denying both of them this… this heaven, all for no better reason than Dennis was too scared, too scared to be seen and too scared to be loved. But Mac loves him, every version and in every universe- Dennis is pretty sure- and he finally realizes he doesn’t need to do anything for it, in order to keep it. Mac loves him.
“Mac,” Dennis says urgently, tapping his shoulder, “Mac, Mac , baby.”
Mac pulls away from where he’s been hidden in the now wet mess of Dennis’ neck, looking down at him concerned. He looks so cute, Dennis wants to kiss him, but his expression suddenly becomes painted with concern.
“Dennis, are you crying?” He asks, wiping away a tear from Dennis’ face that he didn’t realize was there as his thrusts stop. “Am I hurting you?”
Dennis can’t help but smile- laugh, even- as he shakes his head. He grips Mac’s hips, grinding up into him, wordlessly begging him to keep fucking him.
“I love you, Mac.” Dennis says breathlessly, not having the wherewithal to even think about whether or not he should say it, because he feels it, and he needs Mac to know it, to believe him. “I love you.”
Mac’s face breaks, flipping violently from worried, to surprised, to happy then to lust, pupils blown and tongue peeking out between his teeth. “You mean it?” He asks, voice quiet and uncertain.
Dennis grabs his face in his, his heart clenching, and he hates himself for shaping his and Mac’s relationship into one full of such doubt. “I’ve always loved you, Mac.” Dennis answers, and Mac grins bigger than Dennis has ever seen. Mac lurches forward to kiss him, the movement driving his dick harshly into Dennis, causing him to move his hands from Mac’s face to under his arms and around his shoulders, pulling him down close so his body lays heavy upon Dennis’ in a comforting weight. Mac fucks him hard now, rough, his hips snapping back and forth with pure athleticism.
“I love you so much, Dennis, fuck, always have too, so much. You- you’re everything, you’re all there is, you’re the love of my life, dude.”
“Don’t call me dude right now.” Dennis groans, but Mac’s words strike deep, and he can feel that he’s crying more, can feel the tears streaming down his face now.
“ Baby,” Mac corrects, the word punched out in a moan with the snap of his hips. Dennis’ whole body moves with Mac, the headboard slamming against the wall with the same brutal force of Mac’s thrusts. Mac gazes at him lovingly, wiping more of his tears away. “Look at you, baby, so pretty for me, crying on my cock just like you wanted. See, Den, all you had to do was ask. I’ll do anything for you, if you just tell me what you want. Anything.”
Dennis sobs, it’s all so much. He feels himself careening toward the finish line, heat pooling in his stomach and spreading through his entire bloodstream. He’s holding onto Mac for dear life as he pounds into him, panting into Dennis’ ear with both hands braced on either side of his head, gaining as much leverage he can to fuck into Dennis roughly but with a tenderness only Mac could have for him.
“I love you, Mac, I love- I love the way you fuck me, you’re so good, I’m so close, baby, fuck.” His voice is thick with tears and he sniffles. He’s never cried during sex, he doesn’t fully understand anything that’s happening to him right now, except that it’s the most incredible (most- in general) he’s ever felt in his entire life. His orgasm is barreling toward him and he holds onto Mac even tighter, so tight he could be hurting him (but he doesn’t care, and he knows Mac doesn’t either), feeling almost scared for his impending climax. “I can’t, fuck, I can’t,” he whines, and Mac kisses him quick but assuredly.
“Come for me, Dennis, it’s okay, you can do it. Come for me.”
Mac keeps battering into him restlessly, and Dennis is truly writhing uncontrollably now, legs shaking and breath coming out in short, loud pants. He’s so close, he wants to come so bad, come for Mac and make Mac come afterward, he needs it now. “ Please.” He whispers tearfully, and, as usual, Mac interprets him effortlessly and kisses again, longer and deeper as he takes Dennis’ leaking cock into his hand. It takes less than thirty seconds of Mac jerking him off, quickly and fervently, for Dennis to come, an intense explosion crashing over him as he sobs again.
“Fuck yeah, Den, so hot, so good for me.” Mac growls, out of his mind and fucking Dennis harder as he chases after his own orgasm now. Dennis is seeing stars, even when he opens his eyes he can’t see through the shimmering pool of his own tears, he can taste them salty on his tongue.
“Come inside me, Mac.” He cries, overstimulated and shaking. “I need your cum, baby, want you to fill me up, love it when you fill me up.”
And then Mac does, driving as deep into Dennis as possible and shooting inside him with a wild, animalistic moan. He fucks himself through his orgasm, and Dennis feels so raw, he can’t stop more tears from flooding. It’s not until Mac finally stops that he realizes Dennis’ state, and Dennis can feel the guilt wafting off of him.
“Baby.” He whispers, petting Dennis’ hair, his cheeks, kissing him there too, touching him softly everywhere he can reach. “I’m sorry, sorry.” He whispers, and pulls out of Dennis, causing him to squeak out and shiver at the sensation. “Shh, I’m sorry.” Mac soothes him again, and starts to move from on top of Dennis, who still has his arms holding him tight, not letting him go.
“Don’t go,” Dennis pleads, voice hoarse. “And don’t apologize.” Dennis doesn’t need him to, doesn’t want him to, doesn’t want him to feel any semblance of regret, like Dennis didn’t like it, like it didn’t make him feel whole and fix something dark and scary inside of him.
“Not going anywhere.” Mac replies gently, pampering Dennis with more kisses along his neck, collarbone, down to his chest and back up to his lips. Dennis closes his eyes, letting both of their breaths calm down from their ragged states, and it’s when he finally stops shaking and his tears have dried that he asks (embarrassingly, maybe, but because he needs to know the answer), “was that better than the anal beads?”
Mac laughs, a happy and euphoric sound. “Nothing can beat the real you, Dennis.”