They were making out on the couch in Mike's (their) LA place, like they had been several times a day since Jeff arrived two and a half months ago. Mike was straddling Jeff's lap, and Jeff was sprawled out with his hands on Mike's sides, pushed up under his shirt. He was so into this, the way Mike would climb over him and just take over, not always necessarily brutally but in this way where he was just everywhere, taking over all of Jeff's space, all his senses, touching everywhere he could get his hands and barely letting Jeff up to breathe. Admittedly that was maybe partly just skewed perspective or whatever on Jeff's part, being so into Mike, but it felt the same no matter why it was, so what the fuck did he care.
Mike had his hands on Jeff's face, using them to keep his head tipped at the angles he wanted, and Jeff was so fucking easy for him, really, going wherever he got directed every time Mike leaned back enough to tap his fingers and murmur, "C'mon, Carts," and doing his best to just keep up with Mike's kisses, mouth open and wet and pliant.
It never got old, the scrape of Mike's teeth against his bottom lip, the feel of Mike's warm skin under his rough fingers.
"Fuck, Richie," he breathed into Mike's mouth. "Can we-- what do you want? I could blow you."
He licked his lips for emphasis, sliding his mouth away to graze over Mike's stubble.
"Mmm," said Mike. "Not today."
Jeff leaned back curiously, smiling a little. "Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
Mike smirked back at him. "I have plans, Carts," he said. "Come on."
He climbed to his feet, jerking his head towards the stairs. Jeff rolled his eyes and followed him to the bedroom. The bed was still unmade, a few stray items of clothing thrown over the end. Mike turned to meet Jeff and push him down onto the mattress; Jeff went easily, sprawling out and grinning. "So," he said, spreading his legs wider and palming his dick through his jeans.
Mike's eyes dropped to follow the movement, and his smirk returned. "So," he echoed, and picked up a tie thoughtfully from among the scattered clothes, eyeing it before looking back at Jeff.
Jeff's mouth went dry. "Richie-- "
"I wanna tie you up, Carts," said Mike, kneeling on the foot of the bed between Jeff's feet and curling a hand over each ankle. "I want-- fuck. I'll make it so fucking good."
"I," said Jeff. Shit, how did words work again? Mike's eyes were burning. His thumbs brushing over the bones in Jeff's ankles made Jeff shiver. "I-- yeah, okay." He didn't think he could ever say no to Mike, honestly.
"Okay?" said Mike carefully, but the corner of his mouth curled up.
"Fuck, Mike, quit pussying around and tie me up already." Jeff grinned.
Mike made a noise and surged up to kiss Jeff, lick messily into his mouth and tip his head back with a hand fisted in his hair. The tie was wrapped around his knuckles; Jeff could feel the edge of the fabric tickling his neck. It made his pulse stutter stupidly.
"Put your hands above your head," said Mike against his mouth, scraping his nails along Jeff's scalp. Jeff tipped his head back and did, crossing his wrists over the pillow above him.
"Good," whispered Mike, ducking his head to suck a hickey into Jeff's freshly bared neck.
"You-- fuck, oh-- you gonna get my shirt off?" said Jeff breathlessly.
"Not tied up yet, are you?" Mike chirped, but he leaned back to tug Jeff's shirt off. He went for the buttons on his jeans while he was there too, tugging everything down and off.
Jeff hissed at the rasp of fabric over his dick as Mike bore back over him, still fully clothed.
Mike ran his hands up over Jeff's arms, from the soft skin under his biceps, over the ticklish insides of his elbows, the veins in his forearms and wrists. Jeff bit down on his lip, hard. Mike's fingers were light, teasing, and everywhere he touched felt so thin and nerve-ended.
He started looping the tie over Jeff's wrists then, hooking it through the slats on the headboard, tongue between his teeth as he worked on the knots. Jeff watched him, fascinated.
When he was done Mike ducked back in to kiss him, kind of uncoordinated because of how he was smiling, and Jeff said, "Fuck, Mike," into his mouth.
"Yeah," agreed Mike.
"Is this some kind of metaphor?" said Jeff curiously, craning his neck to take in his wrists. The ties weren't tight, and the silk actually felt fucking nice against his skin, so far at least, but Mike knew how to tie knots that weren't easy to get out of. All that fishing, probably. "You know I'm not going anywhere, Richie."
"I know," said Mike, thumbing over the knots, the thin skin on the inside of Jeff's wrists.
Mike was staring at Jeff's hands with this strange look on his face, part pink-tinged, burning want, part something like careful awe. They'd never done this before. When he thought about the last couple of months in LA though, and the eight before that, and the way Mike was a very literal person, so black and white, it kind of made sense. Jeff was here, in LA, he was staying-- it wasn't much of a leap from that to Jeff being tied to Mike's bed when they fucked.
Or well, not for them, anyway. Not when it meant so much.
Jeff couldn't deny that he liked it, either. The satisfied look on Mike's face as he tested the knots, tugging so they pressed hard against Jeff's bones, and the possessive gleam as he raked his eyes over Jeff-- it was nothing but a complete turn-on. Probably Jeff was just easy for Mike, everything about him, everything he did.
He was like, two hundred percent okay with that though. Moreso if it meant mind-blowing orgasms.
He was pretty sure he'd be getting one of those today. Mike tended to deliver and then some on his promises.
"I like you here," said Mike, leaning down to kiss Jeff some more. "Carts."
"I know," said Jeff, arching up to meet him. It was weird how easy it felt-- he was so vulnerable like this, really, but it was just Mike, and he trusted Mike, he was Jeff's best friend, and all he felt was safe and comfortable and awesomely anticipatory.
"I'm gonna blow you now, okay?" said Mike, pulling back.
"Oh God," said Jeff. This was quite possibly going to kill him. Usually when Mike sucked him off he liked to touch, run his fingers over the stretch of Mike's mouth on him, his cheeks where they were full of Jeff's cock, his jaw as it worked over him, the bunched muscles in his shoulders, his hair.
Now though, when Mike took him in and sucked hard on the head of his dick, Jeff had nowhere to go, nothing to do but feel, and holy shit. Mike had a hand slung tight over his hips, so he couldn't arch up either. It was-- well, he kind of got why people did this, because he was completely zeroed in on the slide of Mike's mouth, the shock of his tongue working the slit of Jeff's cock and the hot tightness as he took him in all the way, hollowing his cheeks and then sliding back up again. Usually there was something else to think about, something to keep him grounded, in control, at least until he was closer to coming; he was either working his hips in rhythm with Mike's mouth, or thrusting in hard if that was what Mike wanted, or trying not to thrust-- but it was kind of pointless thinking about any of that now because he couldn't do it even if he wanted to.
Mike went to run his thumb over Jeff's balls, scraping slightly with the nail, and Jeff groaned, hips straining under Mike's hold. "Fuck, fuck, Mike," he gasped, turning his cheek into the pillow.
Mike looked up at him, eyes blown, and rolled Jeff's balls deliberately in his hand.
"I hate you so much," said Jeff, smiling even as he said it because of how untrue it was.
He could feel Mike's lips stretch around his dick too, tonguing at the vein as he slid back up to suck the head some more, probably because he knew how crazy it made Jeff.
It was getting sloppy now; Jeff was leaking precome and Mike had him all slicked up with spit. He could see it running down Mike's chin, making his lips all shiny where they were stretched out, pink and swollen, around the width of Jeff's cock. The sounds were obscene as Mike sped up, and it was probably telling how Jeff thought it was about equally as hot as the focused furrow between Mike's brows, the way his eyes were closed now, lashes dark and a little wet over the tops of his cheeks. Shit, Jeff wanted to touch so bad. He clenched and unclenched his hands, gritting his teeth. Mike was still alternating jerking the base of his cock and teasing his balls, occasionally pressing a finger back further, tracing Jeff's hole but nothing more.
Jeff was fighting super hard to bite back some really dumb noises, tugging increasingly desperately at the tie around his wrists, but it wasn't giving. There would probably be bruises on his hips from Mike's arm tomorrow, too. That was-- he liked that thought though, a lot.
Even the sight of his arm there now made Jeff's dick jerk and leak some more in his mouth.
He couldn't stop the groan escaping though when Mike pulled off abruptly.
"That's it, Carts," said Mike, stroking the insides of Jeff's thighs, which made him twitch desperately and twist his neck. "Wanna hear you, come on. Give it up."
Jeff groaned again, and Mike rewarded him by sucking him back down.
It was weird, how when he stopped trying to hold in the noises, he could also feel the rest of his control slipping rapidly away. It'd been more tenuous to begin with, with the tie and all, and Mike's mouth was so hot, Jesus, so fucking filthy the way he was tonguing at every inch of Jeff's cock between sucking him like breathing was only this thing he did between blowing Jeff. He could feel himself losing it, feel his balls tightening and the heat curling low in his belly, his hips pushing helplessly into the bruising press of Mike's arm.
Which was, of course, when Mike decided to pull of completely.
Jeff choked around a moan, broken and shameless, and the only reason he didn't beg then was because he couldn't remember how to form words.
"Shit, Carts," whispered Mike, thumbing over the lines of his hips, soothing and completely maddening at the same time. Jeff writhed helplessly; he was damp all over, itchy and fizzing and desperate, like he was about to burst out of his skin or go fucking crazy, whichever came first.
"Mike," he said hoarsely. "Richie, please."
"Shh," said Mike, pressing harder with his thumbs, stroking over Jeff's sides in firm, grounding sweeps. "I got you, okay? Fuck, look at you."
Jeff made a helpless noise and turned his face into the pillow. Fucking Richie.
After maybe a minute of just stroking him, pressing his open mouth to Jeff's thigh, Mike slid back up to kiss him, letting Jeff lick into his mouth and taste himself there.
Jeff tried to arch up for some friction, but Mike had most of his weight on Jeff's thighs, the asshole, so there was practically no give. "Richie," he said against Mike's mouth, "Come on, come on, you gotta-- "
"Shh," said Mike again. "I'm trying to decide."
"Decide what, motherfucker?" Jeff gritted out.
"Whether I'm gonna fuck you and make you come without a hand on your dick, or whether I'm gonna ride you and take my sweet fucking time, make you crazy," said Mike.
"Oh," said Jeff weakly. "Oh, shit, Richie."
"Yeah," agreed Richie, leaning off over Jeff to grab lube and a condom from the nightstand. He stopped looking thoughtful around the time he leaned in to steal another kiss, pulling it lightly from Jeff's mouth and sitting up over him again, which meant he'd made up his mind.
He wasn't sharing though, and it didn't help how crazy Jeff felt at all.
At least it didn't take long for Jeff to figure it out; he watched Mike slick up his fingers, licking his lips, and then Mike arched up so he could reach back between his own legs and-- fuck.
"Richie," croaked Jeff, flexing his hands uselessly.
Richie pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, brow furrowed slightly, as he pushed a finger inside himself. Jeff wanted to reach out and smooth away the crease, wanted to replace Richie's finger with his own, feel how hot and tight he knew he'd be, open him up firm and slow.
"You wanna be doing this, Carts?" said Richie, glancing up at Jeff.
"Fuck," said Jeff.
"Yeah, bet you do," said Mike, smirking slightly. He tilted his hips up slightly and closed his eyes as he worked in a second finger, breath hitching, and Jeff groaned. It was torture.
"Know you love doing it," continued Mike, gasping a little as he stretched himself. "Know you love getting me open, feeling this-- fuck, Carts-- getting me ready for your dick."
Jeff groaned, tugging fruitlessly on the tie.
"I love doing it for you though," said Mike, meeting his eyes. "See how wrecked it gets you."
"Fuck you," breathed Jeff, staring.
Richie smirked again. "Patience, Carts," he said.
Jeff made a really dumb growling noise and wrenched at the tie some more, just to feel like he was doing something, to stop feeling quite so wrecked and helpless.
Of course, it only made him feel it moreso.
"Look how much you want it, Carts," said Mike. "Love making you like this. Driving you fucking crazy. Love how much you want me, want this. You want it a lot, don't you?"
"Yes," hissed Jeff. "You know I do."
"Yeah," said Mike. "Gonna give it to you."
"Please," said Jeff, closing his eyes.
"Look at me, Carts," said Mike, and Jeff made a wounded noise but opened his eyes again.
"Love you like this," said Mike, barely above a breath. "Like you're mine, not going anywhere."
"Not like," said Jeff helplessly, but fuck, it was fucking true.
"Yeah," said Mike, the corners of his mouth hitching up, and he pulled his fingers out with a choked-off noise, grabbing the condom to roll onto Jeff and slicking him up.
Jeff moaned at just that perfunctory touch, and bit down hard on his already sore, chewed-up lip as Mike positioned himself over him, grabbing the base of his cock tightly.
Mike lowered himself down agonisingly slowly, but he had his knees locked tight on either side of Jeff's hips, so Jeff couldn't move, couldn't press up or twist or writhe or anything.
They both gasped when he bottomed out, Jeff throwing his head back between his stretched-up arms, trying to control his breathing, even just a little. Richie felt so good, so fucking tight.
"God, Carts," whispered Richie, stroking over Jeff's hips. "Fuck."
Jeff made a noise in agreement.
"Look at you, shit, you look crazy already," said Richie wonderingly.
"Fuck, Richie," Jeff bit out. "Move."
"Yeah, okay," said Richie, and did, so fucking slowly, too slow, but it was something, at least, Jeff's dick dragging at him, making his stomach clench with the need to push, his spine feel like it was being stretched and pulled out, his pulse stutter like a caged bird in his neck.
He couldn't-- just the feel of it was driving him crazy, and then there was the visual, Mike riding his dick, his slicked-up mouth and his pink cheeks, hair a mess, eyes blown.
Jeff wanted to touch, wanted to take, and more than anything, he wanted to come.
Richie made him work for it, though, of course, speeding up in torturous increments, taking his sweet fucking time, like he could spend all day riding Jeff.
It didn't take long for Jeff to stop being able to form coherent thoughts, for everything to narrow into the feel of himself inside Mike, the heat and the tightness and the sweet, aching drag. His skin was soaked, he could feel the sweat biting at him, adding to the itch, and his wrists were bruised all to hell but he couldn't stop tugging on them compulsively. He felt himself falling away, going completely helpless, completely stupid, and couldn't do anything to stop it, didn't want to, because Mike-- Mike was the one making him like this, yeah, but it was Mike and he was gonna let Jeff come, gonna pull him all the way through; Jeff just had to let him, and fucking enjoy the ride.
"God, fuck," he heard Mike gasping through the haze, "Carts, Carts, you feel so fucking good, I'm not-- you need it, don't you? Need to come, shit, look at you-- you're-- you're wrecked."
Jeff made a noise, completely broken, pleading, just-- just.
"Yeah," said Mike, and sped up, fucking himself brutally on Jeff's cock, finally going all-out, pulling up sharply and slamming back down, giving and taking everything, all at once.
Jeff groaned like he'd been socked hard in the gut, back bowing, and Richie said, "Holy shit, Carts, that's so fucking hot, you gonna-- gotta come for me, okay? Come, Carts."
Jeff did, straining up into Mike, meeting hard in the middle as Mike bore down and rode it out, jerking himself hard as Jeff came, felt it all over, toes curling, shaking with it, almost blacking out.
"Jesus fuck," he said when his head didn't feel quite so much like he was drowning.
Richie grunted, still jerking himself frantically, which was making him clench and that...shit.
Jeff hissed, hands twitching.
"Sorry," said Richie, "Shit, I-- hang on-- "
"C'mere," said Jeff. "Fuck, Richie, come, come in my mouth, or-- "
Richie groaned and came, hot and wet all over Jeff's chest, messing up his fingers and making Jeff twist his neck at the almost-pain of the pressure on his over-sensitive dick.
"Fuck," gasped Richie, pulling off and rolling over to stroke himself through it.
Jeff blinked, still breathing hard, and looked down at himself, at the come glistening on his chest, his dick with the condom still on, and over at Richie beside him, fingers wrapped loosely around his flushed, spent cock, his knuckles messed up with streaks of come.
"Wow," he said.
Richie turned his head to grin at him, blissed-out. "Yeah?"
"Fuck yeah," said Jeff. "Jesus Christ, Richie."
"Mmm," said Richie. "Give me a minute, I'll untie you."
"Much obliged," said Jeff.
Richie huffed a laugh, and then sat up, groaning, to lean over and undo the knots.
Jeff brought his hands down, flexing his wrists slowly. Shit, they were going to bruise.
Richie grabbed one of them with his clean hand, smoothing his fingers carefully over the skin.
"People are gonna see," he said. "Shoulda thought of that."
Jeff shrugged. "I don't care," he said.
"Okay," said Richie. He didn't say anything else, but he looked kind of pleased.
Jeff nudged him. "Don't act like you don't like that," he said.
"I'm not," said Richie, the corner of his mouth turning up.
"Good," said Jeff. "Neither am I."
Richie put his wrist down and looked at him. "Yeah?" he said slowly.
"Yeah," said Jeff. "We should do that again. You can fuck me next time."
Richie's eyes dropped to Jeff's chest, and he reached out to draw a finger through his come.
"Maybe come in my mouth," added Jeff. "That'd be hot."
Mike groaned, dropping his head back onto the pillows and slinging an ankle over Jeff's.
"Shut the fuck up now," he said. "You're killing me and I gotta sleep before we can go again."
Jeff laughed, grabbing a stray t-shirt from the foot of the bed and wiping himself off, throwing the condom away and handing the t-shirt to Mike to clean his hands. Then he turned onto his side, slinging an arm over Mike's chest.
Mike's hand drifted down to settle over his wrist, warm and a little bit damp, soothing.
"Good?" he murmured, eyes already half-shut.
"Hell yeah," said Jeff, stretching a bit and then melting back against Mike.
Mike tapped his fingers absently, fondly against Jeff's wrist, and Jeff closed his eyes, grinning.