When Mark reaches out to touch Eduardo, he's not expecting it. He's not expecting the quick exchange of power, or the tugging on his wrists, or the way his hands are effortlessly pinned down at his sides. He's skinny but somehow Eduardo is skinnier and yet so full of power. He sucks in a deep, shuddering breath. He knows what's coming, but he's left speechless in the moment. He wants to ask for it, but he hasn't been told to.
"Say it," Wardo says, letting his fingers leave from where they were just circled around Mark's wrists, anchoring him down. "Stay," he adds, sharp and clear. His eyes meet Mark's. They're so, so dark. So, so— Mark gasps out when he feels Eduardo dig fingers into his exposed hipbones. He closes his eyes and shakes his head.
"Say it," Eduardo says again, his right hand traveling along Mark's frame. He's pressing into his ribs with his short, stubby fingernails that have just enough to make Mark's cock twitch. He knows that if he looked down, there would be faint, red evidence on his skin. A trail of where he's been touched. "Mark," Eduardo finally says, hand near Mark's throat. He feels fingers touching over the hollow gently, delicately; he is shaking and Wardo hasn't even touched his cock yet.
"Wardo," he chokes, hands still down at his side. His fingers are curling into the sheets, knuckles white, and when his eyes open he sees Eduardo there, positioned between his legs. He's got one hand wrapped around own cock, stroking slowly, putting on a show for Mark.
He's going to die.
"Tell me what you want."
Mark feels himself flush. He wishes Wardo was still touching him. His hand must move, tempted to stroke himself, because Wardo slaps his thigh softly. It doesn't hurt, it's such a slight sting, but his cock jumps and he fucking whimpers.
"Come on, fuck me," he finally gives, breaking. His thighs are parting wider on their own, and he's so far gone before he's even been fucked.
"Good boy," Eduardo breathes, quickly pushing two, slicked up fingers into Mark without wasting time. Mark's lips part and he's breathing shallow, quick breaths in an attempt to keep quiet. Eduardo's watching him with intense eyes, and Mark knows he's into it. Mark knows how Eduardo gets off on getting him off, how much he likes the paleness of Mark's skin and the noises he makes and the way he sounds when he's coming without touching his cock. Eduardo can make him— he can just—
"You look so good like this, stretched open around my fingers." But Eduardo's just getting started, because it only feels like a second later that Eduardo's got three fingers inside of him, stretching him open. Wardo crooks his fingers up and finds Mark's prostate, rubbing there in short, smooth circles.
His hips arch off the bed and the fingers are gone.
"Wardo, fuck. Please," and he's begging, okay, he's begging and he's needy and he hates feeling so empty. He's about to repeat his request but there, Wardo's leaning up to kiss him and he's pushing three fingers back into Mark roughly, making it hurt a little bit, and Mark's cock is fucking throbbing.
Wardo bites on his bottom lip softly and he hisses, struggling to hold his hips still when all he wants is to push into it, grind against Wardo's fingers. He feels so wanton like this, open and ready to be fucked. His head turns to the side, lip slipping from between Eduardo's teeth, because he can't hold his gaze; it's too much and simultaneously not nearly enough.
He feels dizzy.
"More, more, more," and he's begging again, hands still pressed down at his sides like they should be. He's digging his fingers into the material, wishing for something he feels like he'll never have. "Please," he adds. "Please."
But all he's rewarded with is Eduardo sliding down to wrap his lips around the head of Mark's cock without any real pressure. It's just enough to lap up the bit of pre-come gathered at the head of his dick and smeared against his lower stomach, and a few sloppy kisses down the underside of the shaft. It's not what he wanted because it's not doing anything except making him crazier, locked up with needing too much and knowing he can't just take it like he wants to.
He feels so stretched open and wet where Wardo is still fucking three fingers into him slowly, keeping up a lazy rhythm that's nowhere near what he's looking for. It's just enough to keep him hard and desperate, because Wardo knows exactly what he likes and what he needs and how to make him insane. He is, he wants to pull out his hair and beg to be fucked and cry because he's going to lose it like this.
Wardo bites the sensitive skin below his right hip and Mark's hips buck, head moving so he can look down and see and—
"More what?" Eduardo asks, voice calm. He's so held together when it's like this, when it's Mark that's begging and he has what he wants. But Mark knows he's hard, Mark knows he wants to get off, too.
Mark doesn't answer verbally, but his thighs inch apart just the slightest bit more, ready to wrap around Eduardo if he would just fucking—
"Fuck me," he demands, not sure how he's even managed to form words. He doesn't like saying much anyway, and it's only fitting his answer is to the point.
He's reeling when Eduardo's fingers barely slip out of him as the blunt head of his cock is pressing into him, and he wishes he could see. He wishes he was able to look down and watch it happen, see the exact second he opens up for Eduardo, but he can feel it and he's holding his breath without realizing it. Eduardo goes slow just to fuck with him, inch by inch. He feels full like this, legs spread and hands at his sides and so fucking exposed.
He watches Wardo's face. Wardo's looking down and watching himself sink slowly into Mark, and he bites his lip when he pulls back a little bit before thrusting in the rest of the way.
"Jesus," Eduardo says, and Mark doesn't know if he's aware he's said it out loud. He stays there, buried completely inside of him, and Mark's so antsy he just wants him to move because this feels like too fucking much and he can't take it.
But Eduardo's hand, fingers still slick with lube, wraps around Mark's left wrist. He had forgotten he was twisting sheets between his clenched fist until Eduardo's tugging Mark's hand away from them, and his joints feel sore from the extended amount of time. His other hand relaxes, too. Wardo moves closer, inching Mark's ass up off the bed and letting Mark's weight rest on his thighs, cock still pressed inside of him. He guides Mark's hand up underneath, between where Eduardo's knees are digging into the mattress and up to where they're joined, guiding his fingers to feel right there, where he's so stretched open and so filled.
"Fuck," he says, eyes meeting Eduardo's, whose pupils are just fucking blown. Eduardo's just barely thrusting into him shallowly, going easy so that Mark can feel it happen.
"You can't see but you can feel. You look so good like this though. Stretched tight around me, but you take it like such a good boy. You must really fucking need it."
And Mark shudders all over as he feels Eduardo press completely back into him, working him open and keeping his hand where it was placed. Eduardo's left hand moves from where it had been gripping Mark's hip to hover over Mark's cock for just a brief second. He's watching, transfixed, as Wardo trails a finger along the length and down further to his balls. Eduardo's looking now, watching Mark's face, before glancing back down to spit between them. Mark's never gotten the appeal, only seen things like that in awful porn, but he groans when Eduardo's fingers use the wetness to swipe over his balls, stroking them and making him clench his eyes shut.
"I'm going to come before you've even really fucked me," he groans, embarrassed by the amount of truth in his statement. Eduardo's barely moving inside of him, just keeping him open and taking his fucking time exploring or something, enough to make Mark cry with how much he needs more. More.
But Eduardo just pulls out almost completely before pushing back in, hard, and Mark's hand that was beneath him is impossible to keep there so he pushes himself up greedily, making it easier for Wardo to fuck into him deep, just like he needs. "God, yeah," he encourages.
Eduardo grips his hips and pulls him further into it, onto his cock, and he's already so close it hurts. It aches now, throbbing deep somewhere near where they're joined and where it feels like Wardo is slowly consuming all of him.
"Yeah?" Wardo asks him, bending down to press kisses to Mark's neck, his hips not slowing. Instead he changes the angle and Mark thinks he cries out, he's not even sure, because everything feels so white-hot and desperate that he's okay with Eduardo lifting him up and guiding them back. He's okay with Eduardo on his back so that Mark can straddle him.
He's so okay with this that his cock is leaking all over Eduardo's stomach, thrilled with the continuous contact through their position change.
He presses his ass down as far as he can go onto Eduardo's thick cock, panting and groaning with his hands on Eduardo's chest, thankful for the way Eduardo's still thrusting up into him, hips circling just the slightest bit that Mark needs.
"Come," Eduardo demands, and Mark shakes his head, wants to ride him longer and feel this, this bit of intense pleasure-pain that's been building up inside of him since Eduardo kissed his neck earlier this morning, making a whole day out of keeping Mark half-hard and wanting it.
"I said come," he repeats, and wraps a hand around Mark's cock to stroke him twice before swiping his thumb across the head of Mark's cock and Mark's losing it, he's coming hard, leaning forward with the effort and burying his head into the curve Eduardo's neck to softly exhale a string of curses that are far from being comprehendible. It's all too much, feeling Eduardo coming inside of him, feeling the way he's shaking below Mark, hips still working up, up, up into Mark to just keep pressing his cock there, where it's all too sensitive and Mark's eyes are clenched shut, choking on words he still can't make out.
"Shh," Wardo soothes, hips working gently now to fuck Mark slowly. He's softening, Mark knows, but he's just come and Mark feels slick and so thoroughly well-fucked. Wardo's got a hand rubbing over the small of his back, pressing kisses to Mark's temple.
"Wardo, I can't—" he can't take it, he wants to say, it all feels like too much. But Wardo cuts him off with "you can" and it feels good more than anything, the soft thrusts that somehow help bring him down even though he's so, so sensitive.
He stays there, Wardo inside of him. He's trembling and Wardo's still touching his back, and he knows he'll be okay.