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Barkovitch despised the time leading up to finals for a multitude of reasons. Having to cram all that material into his brain somehow. Having less time to work on his photography. The constant fucking threat of needing to keep his grades up to keep his scholarship...
...but most of all, he despised what it meant in regards to his dorm roommate.
Usually, Parker and him had a rhythm. Parker got up early to do his probably stupidly intensive hair care routine and by the time Barkovitch rolled out of bed he was already done, and Barkovitch could have the bathroom. Parker showered in the morning, Barkovitch in the evening. Meals were usually eaten at different times, so there was no fighting over the kitchenette either. And both of them got a decent enough amount of alone time, what not with Parker's social life and Barkovitch's photography hobby keeping him outside.
Overall, for two people who could get into an argument at the drop of a hat, their life together was fairly peaceful.
Apart from during fucking finals time.
Suddenly they were both in their dorm room most of the time, because neither of them was very good at focusing on studying when they were anywhere else but there. They also both cut down on the time spend on any outside activities, or tried to stay in the dorm during them. Which also included Parker's work outs.
Usually he and Stebbins would meet at the gym, sometimes accompanied by McVries, and do their thing there. But the gym wasn't that close by, so Parker didn't go there during finals time, and instead worked out in their shared room.
Which was just really fucking distracting.
Barkovitch didn't even know why it was so fucking distracting. Maybe it was all the movement. Maybe it was the fact that Parker would inevitably make some noises during it. Maybe it was the fucking sweat soaking his tank top and-
It just kept him from focusing.
One time Parker had been doing push ups and Barkovitch had gotten so annoyed by it that he had simply sat down on his back. Parker had kept going like he hadn't even noticed the whole ass weight of another person on top of him. Fucking show off. Fucking asshole. Fucking strong as hell, Adonis-looking piece of shit.
Barkovitch had yelled some insults at him afterwards and had never tried doing that again.
Maybe he was just insecure because he wasn't as big as Parker when it came to muscle mass and knew he never would be, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort, but that was besides the point. The point was, Parker was fucking annoying when he was in their room all the fucking time.
And well, him being there all the fucking time also kept Barkovitch from certain...activities.
You see the thing was, Barkovitch was terrible at being silent when he jerked off. He just couldn't help it. Not making noise during it just felt impossible.
So doing it when Parker was in the room basically all of the damn time was simply impossible. The shower with its shitty water pressure wouldn't be enough to drown out his sounds. And doing it at night was out of the question too.
Parker had this annoying habit of waking up at every noise his body deemed 'out of the ordinary'. Barkovitch getting up to go to the bathroom? Parker would blink awake, sometimes even ask where he was going, like it wasn't obvious.
Even more mortifying though was the fact that, whenever Barkovitch had had a shit day and would start crying in his bed, Parker would wake up too. He wouldn't even speak, but he would come over and sit next to Barkovitch's bed until he calmed down. They never talked about it in the morning. Probably for the best, since whenever Barkovitch was really upset and would struggle to stop crying, Parker would pet his hair until he calmed down. And Barkovitch didn’t know ho to face that fact in the daylight.
But back to the point. The point being, Barkovitch was slowly losing his mind, both from study stress and from how fucking horny he was. But then finally, finally, like his prayers had been heard, Parker said he would be going out.
"I need a fucking break and Garraty and McVries wanna go to this spot downtown, so I'm driving them. Don't wait up for me, sweetheart" Parker said, a joke colouring his last sentence. Barkovitch scoffed and flipped him off, ignored the little skip his heart did.
"You can stay out forever for all I care," he shot back and dodged the sock Parker threw his way from where he was getting dressed, right in the room, because he had no shame. At this point, Barkovitch had seen more of Parker's body than he had ever thought he would.
Parker found a different sock and pulled that one on, then moved on to getting his neatly lined up Dock Martin's, standing next to Barkovitch's kicked off Converse. He got the shoes on, laced them up in record time and then waved over his shoulder and was out of the room.
Barkovitch waited for ten minutes, just to make sure Parker hadn't forgotten something and would come back, the time ticking down painfully slow.
Then, the moment his phone told him the ten minutes were up, he was out of his chair immediately.
Desperation was sneaking through his veins but Barkovitch wanted to really utilize the precious alone time he would have. So he opted for doing something he didn't often indulge in.
Digging under his bed procured a well hidden, unassuming shoe box. Inside it was Barkovitch's lube, which wasn't all that scandalous. Most guys had lube to make jerking off easier.
No, the reason it had to be stored where hopefully no one would find it was the other addition to the box. A nice long rainbow coloured dildo.
Barkovitch still remembered the day well, April Fools last year, and Parker handing him a box with a shit eating grin on his face. It was tradition in their friend group, to get each other dumb gifts for April Fools. Usually it just resulted in fart pillows and framed pictures of unflattering moments.
But no, Parker had went all out that year, annoyed at Barkovitch for the comments he couldn't help but make towards Garraty and McVries, freshly gotten together. No one had seemed to understand that Barkovitch had been trying his best not to say any of the shit that clearly made them so angry with him, scared of getting kicked out of the group. It was just that he had been told all his life that it was the only correct way to talk and just stopping it wasn't exactly easy.
And clearly he hadn't been working on stopping quickly enough for Parker's liking, the guy as always very protective of his friends. So he had gifted him a fucking rainbow dildo, in bright daylight, their friends laughing their asses off. He had made some comment to go along with it, that Barkovitch couldn't even remember anymore. He was pretty sure his ears had been ringing too much to hear it anyway.
It had meant to be a joke, as Garraty had later tried to convince Barkovitch. Barkovitch, who hadn't talked to any of them for a full week following the incident, even going as far as to sleep over at Rank's place, until he had kicked him out for 'wallowing too much'.
And even though it had also felt like a jab, Barkovitch knew it hadn't been meant to be actively malicious. Hell, it hadn't even been the first time a crude gift like that had been given in their friend group. It had just been the case that Barkovitch hadn't known how to deal with it.
He had told Parker he had tossed the thing in the trash, which had been a fucking lie. Instead he had kept it in the box Parker had gifted it to him in, and for the longest time pretended it didn't exist, lying there under his bed.
Until one day curiosity had gotten the better of him.
And well, some straight guys also liked it up the ass, yeah? Barkovitch had seen it before, when he had been browsing porn. Good straight porn like every guy liked. The videos with men getting pegged were some of the only ones he had ever actually managed to get himself to watch all the way through.
Since then, he had done this a few times. But really only when he knew he would have the time for it. The thing wasn't exactly small and one time of not stretching himself all that well, had been enough to turn him off from trying to take the thing too quickly ever again. If only so he didn't have to go through another day of all the guys asking him if he had slipped and fallen on his ass or something.
But tonight, Parker would no doubt be out a while, so Barkovitch shed his clothes and then decided to get himself ready in the shower. The warm water always helped him relax.
He washed himself methodically, trying to ignore how embarrassing it felt when he tried to clean himself out as good as possible too. But needs must.
Then, with the spray of water on him, he rested his forehead against the still cool tiles, and reached behind himself once he had poured lube over his fingers.
The first finger already made him gasp. Thankfully it slipped in easily but Barkovitch hadn't done anything in long enough that the sensation felt heightened.
Once he got used to that, he slipped in a second finger, his toes curling at the sensation. Spreading them made him feel vaguely light-headed and not for the first time did he wish someone else was doing this for him. Someone with longer fingers than his own, someone who could reach deeper.
But for now his own fingers would have to do. For forever probably, because who would want him like this? The thought was depressing, so instead he focused on the stretch again, on the light burn, tried to push deeper. Small sounds constantly dripped from his lips, shaky exhales and little "Ah" noises.
Pushing in the third finger almost made his knees buckle, so he braced a hand against the now slightly warmer shower tiles, holding on as good as he could. He could tell his mind was trying to wander but there was a reason he didn't want to let it yet. The same reason why he had completely ignored his own cock so far. It would just be a damn shame if all this was over too quickly.
So he focused on the sensations instead, how the discomfort gave way to pleasure, how the movements turned easier.
The moment he deemed himself stretched enough, he pulled his fingers out, held them under the spray until they were clean and then shut the water off.
Time to move this along.
When he stepped out of the shower and towelled himself dry, he realized how chilly it was. His eyes fell to their washing machine, the shirt Parker had changed out of earlier tossed on top of it, so he wouldn't forget to wash it.
Barkovitch shouldn't. He really shouldn't. He felt like enough of a freak already with what he planned to do.
But Parker's shirt needed a wash anyway and Barkovitch was cold. So so cold.
So he grabbed it and put it on, the material soft on his skin, and the whole thing smelling like Parker. It was comforting. It also made him even more desperate to get a move on. He tried hard not to think about either of those things too deeply.
Barkovitch walked back to the room and got started on his setup. The pillow resting on the side of his bed, the one he used as back support when sitting there, was big and had the perfect amount of resistance.
So he straddled it and then grabbed the dildo, pouring a generous amount of lube over it. It was always better to have too much than too little, especially since the thing wasn't exactly small. He sure wondered if Parker's-
He cut the thought of right there, shaking his head and then tugging at a strand of his hair, hard. What the fuck? Weird thoughts were already starting to creep in huh? And he hadn't even started yet. Usually his brain waited until he was actively jerking off before bombarding him with this kind of crap.
He had to move things along though, not fully certain how long Parker would be out, so he guided the dildo behind himself and positioned the base on the pillow. Some manoeuvring and he managed to position himself right. One deep breath and then he started to sink down, the silicone slowly breaching him.
Stretching himself with his fingers was nothing compared to the overwhelm that threatened to overcome him with this. Especially since he hadn’t gotten to do this in a while. So his other hand flew to his dick, trying to balance out the sensations. Immediately everything got a bit better and he managed to sink down further and further, until he had most of the dildo inside.
For a moment he just let himself breathe, let himself feel the stretch, his hand stopping it’s movements on his dick.
Once he felt like he had gotten used enough to it, he leaned back, held onto the base of the dildo and then started slowly rocking up and down on it. It was a bit of an awkward position and didn’t let him move all too fast, but it was good enough for him. Little soft sighs and moans began to spill past his lips, especially once he let his hand start to move on his dick again.
For a bit that was all he did, trying to angle his hips a bit differently here and there and then gasping when he finally hit his prostate. His actions sped up after that, chasing the feeling. Parker’s shirt kept brushing his thighs with each movement.
His mind began to wander. He imagined dark long hair, muscular arms. There was nothing wrong with being into muscular women, right?
The image that truly popped up in his head though, was not of a woman. The hair was too familiar, the muscles ones he had seen straining during a workout just earlier that day. His dick gave a little twitch and ah fuck, who was he kidding?
He imagined it was Parker under him, not just his stupid pillow and the placeholder for a real dick. No one was here to judge him after all. No one was in his head to do it either, apart from he himself. And he could insult himself over his own fantasies later. Right now the pleasure was starting to drown everything out effectively enough that he could ignore the voice in the back of his head yelling at him, calling him all the vile names he sometimes compulsively spit out.
There was no way Parker would ever actually want to fuck him and even if he did, there sure wouldn’t be any actual feelings for Barkovitch involved. Sure, they didn’t fight as often as they used to anymore, even hung out just the two of them alone at times, even outside the dorm. However that didn’t mean Parker did much more than simply tolerate him at best, Barkovitch was sure of that. Plus, Parker was entirely out of his league. Gorgeous and confident and probably currently flirting with someone right this very moment, annoyed at Barkovitch for not being able to take them back and to his bed-
Okay this was getting depressing again. Best think about something else.
The last time they had fought, truly fought, Parker had slapped him, in response to Barkovitch biting him. It had been one of their nastier fights and Barkovitch didn’t even really remember anymore what had started it. Probably him making a stupid comment Parker hadn’t liked, as usual. After all, Parker was never afraid to react when Barkovitch fucked up again. But what started it wasn’t important right now, but the ending was, that slap.
Barkovitch could still feel the phantom sensation of it on his face, remembered the way Parker's eyes had been dark, oh so dark. The idiot had even actually apologized for it later, as had Barkovitch for the bite, reluctantly. He hadn’t been all that truly sorry over seeing his teeth marks imprinted on Parker's skin though.
Almost, he slapped himself, barely resisted the urge. Parker didn’t like when he did that, always grabbed his wrist when he tried. Besides, he wanted Parker to be the one slapping him anyway. It didn’t feel like a punishment then, just freedom.
Deciding to change position, Barkovitch let go of the dildo, leaned forward and just ground back down against it. It made it hit deeper and he gasped, tried to imagine Parker's hand on his hips, pulling him down. He wondered how Parker would fuck him. Just as roughly as he fought? Or would he be gentle, whisper praise to Barkovitch the whole time? He kinda hoped it would be a mix of both. Not that it would ever happen, but a guy could dream.
Letting go of his dick, Barkovitch moved his hand upwards instead. Slipping two of his fingers into his mouth, he sucked on them, wondered what Parker's cock would feel like sliding between his lips. Barkovitch would let Parker grab his hair and pull him down on it and he wouldn't even complain.
Slowly, he pulled the fingers back out, returned his hand to his dick. He sped up his efforts, heat pooling deep in his gut.
Barkovitch was getting lost in it, lost in the sensations of it all, lost in his fantasies of Parker treating him like a toy and like he was something precious at the same time.
It was why he didn’t hear the door unlock, then open, until it was too late.
And suddenly he was looking right at the object of his fantasies, just that he would have much preferred him having stayed in his head. Parker stared back at him, eyes wider than he had ever seen them. He hadn’t even closed the door behind himself.
Barkovitch recovered from the shock first, the initial emotion giving way to humiliation and panic.
“Get out!” he yelled and Parker stepped back immediately, back through the doorframe. He would have felt smug about him listening to him so easily if it had been any other situation.
Barkovitch believed Parker would leave and then maybe they could just pretend this had never happened. However, nothing ever really went his way and when voices filtered in from the hallway, Parker stepped right back into the room and shut the door behind himself.
“I said get out!” Barkovitch repeated himself, still not sure what to do now that he was faced with Parker.
“I’m not letting someone else see you like this!” Parker snapped back. Then, horrifyingly enough, his eyes, that had been solely fixed on Barkovitch’s face so far, flickered down like he couldn't help himself. It made Barkovitch grab the hem of the shirt and pull it down to cover himself as good as he could. Not that it did anything to hide what was happening but he had to at least try.
“Is that my shirt?” Parker suddenly asked and Barkovitch’s blood froze in his veins.
“No!” he croaked out, entirely unconvincing. One of Parker's thick eyebrows raised up.
“It’s-fuck-I was just cold! It’s not-it doesn’t mean I’m into you or some-fuck-I’m not queer-” Barkovitch stuttered, hand going up and tugging at his hair. Parker had seen. Parker knew. There was no doubt he had figured it out and now he would hate him even more and think he was a freak and-
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. Apart from if you want it to mean something,” Parker cut him off with, stepping a little closer, carefully, like he was approaching a frightened animal. Barkovitch blinked.
“What?” he asked, hand loosening it’s tight grip on his hair a little. Parker ran a hand through his own hair.
“I’m trying to say I can leave, the moment the coast is clear, and we don’t talk about this, ever. Or, I stay, help you out with what you’re doing, and we see where it goes,” he said and then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, sighed, before looking at Barkovitch again, like he was trying to get a message across with his eyes alone.
“It also means I like how you look wearing my shirt.”
Oh.
Oh.
There was still a certain amount of anxiety sneaking through his veins but suddenly heat tried to pool in his gut again, summoned by the thought of Parker actually wanting him, at least physically. Slowly, Parker stepped closer, gestured to his bed.
“Can I sit?” he asked and Barkovitch nodded dumbly. When Parker sat down, Barkovitch blurted out the first thing on his mind, unable to stay silent. “Why are you back so early?”
“Garraty didn’t feel good, so plans fell through. Went and bought him some medicine instead. That’s why I’m back early. If I had known you would be...well, I would have let you have your time to yourself,” Parker explained and then leaned onto one of his hands, getting even closer to Barkovitch.
“But now I must say I’m glad I didn’t miss out on this. I really like how you look wearing my shirt,” he said, free hand hovering over Barkovitch’s bare thigh until Barkovitch gave in and just pushed it down against his skin himself. It made him have to hold back a whimper. Parker's hand was so fucking warm.
“Were you just rutting against the pillow?” Parker asked and okay, great, he just had to be this direct huh?
“No I was-,” Barkovitch started, then remembered what he had actually been doing and bit his lip, feeling his face heat up. Parker swiped a thumb over the skin of his thigh and Barkovitch shivered.
“It’s okay. You can tell me,” he said and Barkovitch resisted the urge to hide his face. Instead, he tugged at his hair a little again. God, this was so humiliating. He hated that it kind of turned him on at the same time.
“The dildo,” he blurted out eventually and Parker just stared at him for a moment, clearly not comprehending, or maybe Barkovitch had just managed to make him buffer with that information.
“The dildo?” he asked, confusion colouring his voice.
“Yes. The dildo. The stupid rainbow dildo you got me as a joke gift. I’m riding it,” Barkovitch rushed to say and Parker's eyebrows damn near shot up to his hairline before an emotion entirely different from shock took over his face.
“Fuck that’s so hot,” he damn near groaned out and Barkovitch squirmed a little, regretting the action when it made the aforementioned dildo brush past his prostate, making him gasp. Parker looked like he had just been handed his birthday and Christmas presents at the same time.
“Hey, can I kiss you while you keep grinding against it?” Parker asked and Barkovitch felt himself nodding immediately. Parker actually being interested in doing something with him pushed all his fears to the back of his mind for the moment.
“Yes. Yes, anything you want really. You can do anything you want,” he babbled out and maybe it was a bit much but apparently Parker actually wanted him, fuck, Parker wanted him. It made nothing else matter, especially not his dignity. He could regret looking desperate later.
Then there were soft lips on his, insistent, and it was like all of Barkovitch’s thoughts were switched off. All he could do was feel. Feel how Parker’s hand left his thigh and found his face instead, cradled his jaw. Feel how Parker had to fight down a smile when Barkovitch pressed back with perhaps too much enthusiasm. Feel Parker's tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip and how his own mouth opened right up for him to push it inside.
Having Parker’s tongue in his mouth felt both foreign and fucking incredible. He mapped his mouth out like Barkovitch was something worthy of being explored.
The hand he wasn’t holding himself up with, slid down from Barkovitch’s jaw again, thumb tracing down the front of his throat, before trailing over his chest and eventually finding his hip. A gentle push down and Barkovitch got the memo.
Slowly, he tried to begin moving again, mostly keeping it to just lightly lifting his hips and grinding back down. He didn’t want to fuck up their kisses after all, especially since he basically had no idea what he was doing. It was a good thing that Parker was leading the whole thing, leaving Barkovitch to just go with it or at best try to mimic him.
It didn’t take long for the added sensations of grinding against the dildo to push noises out of him, as he gasped and moaned against Parker's lips. He had just thought how it was a good thing that Parker's lips were somewhat muffling it all, when the asshole smiled into the next kiss and then broke away from Barkovitch’s mouth. Instead, he began to trail kisses down the side of his face, until he reached his neck, made himself at home there.
A wet tongue was dragged up the side of his neck and Barkovitch made a frankly embarrassing noise, then an even worse one when Parker began to work a hickey into his skin. A chuckle reverberated against his throat and then Parker was right next to his ear.
“Noisy one, aren’t you?” he asked and Barkovitch smacked his shoulder, weakly, feeling his own face heat up.
“I can’t fucking help it. Why do you think I always gotta wait until you’re out to do this shit?” he complained and Parker pressed a kiss to his cheek, then pulled back.
“Well, you sure as hell don’t have to do that anymore. I won’t complain if I get to see and hear this more often,” he said, then squeezed Barkovitch’s hip. “Wouldn’t complain about being more actively involved another time either.”
That made Barkovitch stop short, which was dumb, since it had been pretty obvious that Parker seemed interested in fucking him. But still, strongly suspecting it and actually hearing it were two different things.
“We can do that too, right now, if you want to. Or-or anything else you might have in mind,” Barkovitch got out and Parker gave him a searching look.
“I did walk in on you and all that shit. I don’t want you to feel pressured-” Parker started and Barkovitch cut him off, teeth bared.
“Parker, for the love of god, it’s fucking fine. I told you to do whatever you want so fucking stop holding back, you pussy,” Barkovitch snapped and Parker’s eyes turned dark. Then, suddenly, there was a hand in his hair, grip firm. Barkovitch felt his next breath stutter.
“Well, I will take you by your word then, sweetheart,” Parker said, an edge to his voice, and Barkovitch’s blood began to rush through his veins quicker, hotter. Yes yes yes.He appreciated Parker's care, but this was more to his liking. Rough he knew what to do with.
The hand in his hair tightened for a moment and then left the blonde strands as Parker got up, Barkovitch damn near whining at the loss of closeness. Then he had to swallow down another whine as Parker stripped out of his shirt, tossing it in the general direction of his own bed. All that fucking working out he did clearly paid off, as Barkovitch was already aware it did, Parker's muscles nice and defined. It damn near made his mouth water, for once being able to stare freely.
Then, Parker got rid of his shoes before straightening back up and undoing his belt, simply dropping it to the floor. And then his hands went to his jeans. Was Parker popping open a button and sliding down a zipper meant to look like it was happening in slow motion?
Time sped up again when Parker was pushing down his jeans and his underwear right along with them and oh. Suddenly Barkovitch had his answer to his earlier cut off question. Parker was definitely bigger than his dildo. Fuck.
The hand returned to his hair, tilted his head up so he was looking right into Parker's eyes.
“Ground rules. If either of us needs to stop, we say “red”. If you can’t speak, it’s three taps to any part of me to get me to stop. If you want something, you use your fucking words and ask for it. Got it?” he asked and Barkovitch tried to nod, only to realize that Parker's grip on his hair was too strong to do so.
“Yes, fucking got it,” he damn near wheezed out instead and Parker stared at him for a moment longer, like he was trying to make sure he really did, before nodding and letting go of his hair.
He climbed onto the bed, kneeling there like he wasn’t the least bit embarrassed over being naked. Knowing him, he probably really wasn’t. Parker always oozed some weird sense of unbreakable underlying confidence. It was fucking annoying. It was also really fucking hot.
Parker found the lube in the folds of Barkovitch’s blanket and held it up. “Do you have condoms too?”
Honestly, Barkovitch almost laughed at the question. Why in the world would he have condoms? Did Parker think people were lining up to fuck him? But based on Parker's expression, the question was serious.
“No I don’t. Why? Did you use up all of yours on your little one night stands?” he sneered, hating the thought of Parker in someone else’s bed. Parker rolled his eyes at him.
“No, you idiot. Just haven’t gotten any new ones in ages. Wasn’t very interested in going out and starting a relationship with anyone when I was a bit...preoccupied,” he said and Barkovitch blinked at him. What the hell did that mean? Did he just mean because of finals coming up? But it sounded like there had been more to it than that. Before he could give it much more thought though, Parker kept talking.
“I’m clean. If you are too, we can do this without one. Or I just use that dildo to make you cry,” he said with a smirk and Barkovitch scoffed, crossed his arms. He was acutely aware of the dildo still inside of himself. He wondered how Parker’s dick would feel in comparison.
“You wouldn’t be able to make me fucking cry if you tried. But yeah, sure, why not, you can just fuck me without the condom, I guess,” he said with a roll of his eyes, heat trying to pool in his belly, and then realized that meant actually getting off of the damn dildo he was still on. Well, this was about to be embarrassing. But Parker's dick looked so good, hard and flushed and slightly curved and...yeah fine that was worth some embarrassment.
So he eased himself off of it slowly, not quite succeeding in holding back all his little gasps and groans. Parker just stared at him, looking weirdly pleased, and Barkovitch could feel his ears burning.
Finally he got it out of himself and dropped it on his bedside table. It looked fucking vulgar, just laying there, but it was the best place to put it for now. He got rid of his pillow too, getting off of it and simply pushing it off of the bed and to the floor for now.
“Come here,” Parker said, before Barkovitch could second guess himself about what to do next, so he moved closer to him, both of them up on their knees now.
Parker grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulled him in, and then his lips were on his. His other hand found Barkovitch’s hip, pulled him closer. It made their cocks brush together and Barkovitch whimpered against Parker's mouth.
For a moment, they just kissed, Barkovitch feeling himself getting lost in it. When Parker bit his bottom lip, he moaned and opened his mouth obediently, letting Parker slide his tongue inside. He slid his own against it, slowly getting a hang of the push and pull of it all. He still couldn't help himself but continuously let out small noises though, especially whenever he brushed up against Parker again. They swayed back and forth a bit like they were dancing.
When they pulled apart to breathe, Parker's annoying smirk was back.
“You’re really cute, do you know that?” he asked and Barkovitch barely got in a confused and slightly annoyed “Huh?“ before he was suddenly being pushed back onto the bed. He landed with his legs awkwardly splayed out under himself, but Parker remedied that immediately, helping him straighten them out. Then he grabbed Barkovitch’s pillow and stuffed it under his hips. Very suddenly Barkovitch realized that this was actually happening.
The click of the lube bottle being opened could be heard and then Parker groaned as he slicked himself up. Meanwhile Barkovitch tried to keep breathing, tried not to panic. He wanted this, really did, but Parker was even bigger than his stupid dildo and he had never done this before and-
His thoughts cut off abruptly when Parker's warm hands grabbed his legs and moved his thighs apart, so he had enough room to shuffle between them. And then Parker was there, towering over him, one hand finding Barkovitch’s hip and the other holding himself up so he could more easily hover above him. Barkovitch felt the tip of his dick nudge against his entrance.
Parker adjusted his position, leaned his weight more onto his legs and freed his other hand that way, used it to push Barkovitch’s hair away from his face, surprisingly gentle.
“Just keep breathing,” he said and Barkovitch nodded, then gasped when suddenly Parker's slightly rough hand wrapped around his cock, at the same time that he began to push into him.
Even with how stretched he was, it was overwhelming, more so because of it feeling different rather than painful. Parker was warm in a way the silicone had never had any hope of being and his shape was different, dragging along his walls in a truly wonderful manner. He could feel himself twitch in Parker's hand as he slowly stroked up and down his dick.
And then, Parker was all the way inside of him, and Barkovitch felt full in a way he never had before. It was glorious. Still a little overwhelming though.
When Parker's hand left his dick, he gave a little whine, then cut himself off with a gasp when Parker suddenly damn near laid down on him, braced up on one arm. It made him shift inside of him but thankfully not too much.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked and tried not to shiver when Parker's hand slid over his chest, pinky catching on a nipple for a moment before he slid it up further, to his throat, like he was mesmerized.
“I’m giving you a moment to adjust,” Parker answered, then slid his hand up further, over his chin, to his lips. For a moment he just traced his fingertips over them, like he was exploring the softness, the feeling slightly ticklish. Barkovitch didn’t think, just let his mouth part.
Parker took it as the encouragement it was, slid his fingers past his lips, let them trail over his tongue, deeper and deeper into his mouth. Barkovitch had to fight his gag reflex a little but managed. Worth it too, as he realized he quite liked having Parker's fingers in his mouth.
“So pretty,” Parker whispered and Barkovitch whined around the digits in his mouth. Parker pulled his fingers back a little, then pushed back in, repeated the movement again and again, going slow. Barkovitch just let him, a little bit of drool escaping out of the side of his mouth, but he was past caring about that now. The movement of Parker's fingers was damn near hypnotic.
“Such a pretty slut, huh?” Parker asked and Barkovitch moaned around his fingers. He wanted to be that yeah. He wanted to be that for Parker, only for Parker.
When Parker eventually pulled his fingers out for good, Barkovitch sucked in a desperate breath. He hadn’t even realized how shallow his breathing had gotten, too focused on what Parker had been doing.
Parker wiped his fingers off on his chest, letting them catch on a nipple again and smirking when Barkovitch shivered a little. A moment later there was a thumb there, brushing over it, back and forth and Barkovitch appreciated it, really did, but he was also acutely aware that he wouldn't last very long if Parker kept playing with him and they didn’t get a move on soon.
“Parker, for the love of god, start moving,” he griped and Parker chuckled, pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
“Alright princess,” he said and before Barkovitch could even sputter anything out in response to that pet name, started to slowly pull out of him.
When he pushed back in, all of Barkovitch’s thoughts cut off.
Parker hit deep, pulled back out, hit deep again. Quickly, he found a rythm and Barkovitch lifted his arms, clung to Parker's shoulders as he fucked him. A new burst of pleasure sparked through him every time Parker pushed back in.
Leaned over him, Parker's hair was like a curtain around them. So when Barkovitch’s eyes fluttered open, not even having noticed that he had closed them, his face was all he could focus on. Parker looked...in awe. Barkovitch didn’t really know what to do with that. So he slid one of his hands to the back of Parker's neck, pulled him down so he could try to kiss him.
It changed Parker's angle inside him and Parker groaned at the same time that Barkovitch let out a damn near shriek as Parker hit his prostate on his next thrust, pleasure shooting through him like electricity. Parker sounded too damn smug when he spoke next.
“Ah, there we go,” he said, then pressed a messy kiss to Barkovitch’s lips before he could complain, then continued to focus on hitting the same spot again and again.
Trying to kiss again became impossible pretty much immediately, as Barkovitch had a hard time closing his mouth, noises spilling out consistently. He was all gasps and moans and whines of Parker's name.
“Shit, I was right. You’re so noisy. Do you want everyone to know how good you’re getting fucked?” Parker asked, something dark in his voice and Barkovitch whined again, nails digging into Parker's shoulders, where his hands had returned to. Humiliation burned through him but somehow it just added to everything he was feeling.
“It’s hot but I also don’t like sharing, nor getting noise complaints. Come here,” he said and suddenly Parker pulled out, making Barkovitch sputter out complaints, until he was lifted like he fucking weighed nothing at all and then Parker positioned him on his lap. His dick nudged against his entrance and then he was pushing at Barkovitch’s hips, making him sink down on him. It all happened so fast that Barkovitch didn’t even bother continuing to complain.
Once he was all the way down, Barkovitch realized that, impossibly, Parker was reaching even deeper inside him like this. Soothing circles where being rubbed into his hips, Parker's hands still wonderfully warm.
“I want you to ride me,” Parker said, one hand sliding up over his side, eventually reaching his face again and resting two fingers against his lips with a grin. “And suck my fingers like a good little slut, so you can keep your noises in a little.”
Barkovitch glared at him, but still let him slip his fingers into his mouth, and once Parker bucked his own hips up into him, all the fight left him for a second.
It was pretty easy to find their rhythm again, even with the changed position, Barkovitch having done this often enough with the dildo to know what he was doing. It gave him some confidence, along with the wish to see if he could get Parker to react more as well. So when Parker pushed deeper into him, he decided to clench around him and a groan was punched out of Parker. See? He wasn’t the only loud one.
Feeling smug, next time he sunk down, he bit Parker's fingers, making him hiss and pull them out. Parker tapped the side of his face once, in a mockery of a slap, as he continued trying to meet Barkovitch’s own movements as good as possible. It made heat burn through Barkovitch, reminding him of the last time Parker had actually slapped him.
He remembered Parker's words about asking for what he wanted and it was embarrassing, really fucking much so, but his traitor mouth still opened and spit out the words. “Don’t be a pussy, fucking slap me.”
Parker's next thrust up was a little rougher, making him gasp. When he met his eyes, he saw how dilated Parker's pupils were.
“You want that? Want me to put you in your place?” he asked, grip almost bruising on Barkovitch’s hip. Suddenly, something contrary inside Barkovitch reared it’s head.
“Hah. You couldn't do that if you tri-” his sentence was cut off by a loud sound and a sting in his cheek. Heat spread through the side of his face and Parker's next upwards thrust found his prostate again, pain and pleasure mixing together, making Barkovitch moan, loudly.
His chin was grabbed, harshly, and he was turned to face Parker again. He let out a gasping breath, mouth open, and Parker spit right into it.
“Swallow,” he demanded and Barkovitch didn’t even think, just did it.
“Good boy,” Parker groaned out and pleasure spiked through Barkovitch, his mind going hazy. Yes yes yes. He wanted to be a good boy for Parker. The contrary thing inside himself settled down, was blanketed by the other emotions, that wish to be good just taking over.
“No more biting. At least not my fingers,” Parker said and Barkovitch accepted it when he slipped his fingers back into his mouth. He moaned around them and sucked, tried to keep his own hips moving at the same time. Parker kissed the side of his face.
“There we go. Knew you could be a good dog,” he rasped against his ear. Barkovitch shuddered in response. Yes yes yes. He was good. He could be good.
They kept going, Barkovitch moving his hips up and down, Parker meeting his movements, now nailing his prostate every single time. Heat was starting to gather low in Barkovitch’s gut, spit dripping out of the side of his mouth as he kept sucking on Parker's fingers to keep his own noises contained.
His orgasm was approaching, just on the edge of him able to reach it, almost taunting him. He would need a hand around his dick or...or something else. Just something to make the wave building up inside him finally crash.
Parker was close too, he could tell. His dick kept twitching inside of him, low noises consistently escaping his mouth by now. His hand on Barkovitch’s hip was definitely going to leave bruises. What an amazing fucking thought. Having physical proof that at least for a moment, Parker had wanted him.
When Parker pulled his fingers out of his mouth, he whined, then gasped when the fingers instead wrapped around his throat. Pressure was applied to the sides of it, everything going a little more hazy immediately and fuck yes. This was what he needed.
They were almost forehead to forehead now, movements erratic. Everything he could hear, feel, see, was Parker, Parker, Parker.
“Come on, baby” Parker rasped out, hand tightening ever so slightly on his throat and Barkovitch was floating, head filled with cotton, everything absolutely fucking wonderful.
“Be a good boy and come for me.”
Apparently that was enough to finally send him over the edge.
For a moment everything was white noise, stars bursting in his vision, pure ecstasy in his veins. Nothing hurt, his head filled with the most pleasant emptiness. His whole body went rigid and then the tension left almost immediately, leaving him the most relaxed he had been in months, hell, years.
When he actually became aware of his surroundings again, his face was buried in something incredibly soft. Parker's hair, he realized, where it was draped over his shoulder. There were movements jostling him up and down where he rested, Parker still chasing his own orgasm.
His arms were around Parker and he squeezed him tighter, tried to squeeze around his dick too. Next to his ear, Parker's breath stuttered.
“Come on, you can do it,” he managed to say, voice breathy, everything still feeling floaty and dreamy, even as Parker was slowly working him towards overstimulation.
“Come for me, Collie,” he whispered against his ear and Parker groaned, loud, then muffled the sound by biting Barkovitch’s shoulder, as he came.
Heat filled up Barkovitch and he gasped, tried his best to keep his own hips cooperating to let Parker ride out his orgasm. Parker's teeth in his shoulder hurt, no doubt leaving a mark behind. Honestly he was kind of surprised he hadn’t broken the skin.
When Parker's thrusts finally slowed down, he stopped biting Barkovitch, pressing a kiss to the mark left behind, like an apology. For a moment, they just sat there, holding onto each other, both trying to catch their breath. Parker's head rested on Barkovitch’s shoulder like it was a comfortable pillow.
Inside him, Parker went soft and Barkovitch became aware of the sticky mess trying to dry on his own stomach. But he didn’t want to move, as he very acutely realized this might have been the only time he would get this. Earlier, Parker had talked about wanting to watch him again in the future, wanting to get involved, but Barkovitch wasn’t stupid. It had been said in the heat of the moment. Parker would probably regret and take back the words the moment he came to his senses again.
Besides, Parker could have so much better, not a broken mess like him. Hell, he deserved so much better, because, even when he pissed him off, Parker was a good man. And Parker definitely at best wanted something casual, something purely physical, and even for that he should go for someone else. Barkovitch’s stupid feelings, the ones he usually pushed down to the darkest depths of himself, would only get in the way.
And, in the end, there was no way Parker could truly like him back.
Besides, fuck, Barkovitch shouldn't even want a man in the way he wanted Parker. Everything he had been taught told him that he was wrong for it. He could hear his father screaming in his head, could picture his Meemaw’s disappointed face-
“Fuck,” he whispered out, the word barely audible, but clearly audible enough for Parker to catch it.
“You okay?“ he asked, lifting his head, so he could actually look at Barkovitch again. Then his eyes did that terrible thing were they got all concerned, like he actually cared.
“Shit. Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?” he asked, hands going up to cradle Barkovitch’s face and first then did Barkovitch get aware that there were tears flowing down his face. He didn’t even know when he had started to cry.
“I’m fucking fine,” he snapped, grabbed Parker's wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. So much for staying in the moment for as long as possible. Maybe ripping it off like a bandaid was the better approach after all.
So he lifted himself up, hissing along with Parker when his dick slid out and then tried to ignore the humiliation of feeling Parker's cum sliding down between his legs.
“Barkovitch, wait,” Parker said, hands hovering as Barkovitch moved off of his lap and then tried to stand up, so he could at least flee to the bathroom.
Just that his fucking body apparently wasn’t on board with that plan, as his legs gave out under him immediately.
“Fuck!” he cursed and then there were hands on him, pulling him back just in time, so he fell with his ass on the mattress instead of the floor. Then, there were legs bracketing his and he was being pulled back against a strong chest.
“Okay, you need to tell me what’s going on,” Parker said, arms wrapped around him, like he was scared of Barkovitch making another escape attempt, even though he clearly couldn't.
“I don’t have to tell you shit,” he snapped back, trying to squirm his way out of Parker's hold, even though he knew it was useless. Parker only tightened his hold on him. It set off a fresh wave of tears.
“Fuck. Alright. You don’t have tell me, but at least stop trying to get away,” Parker insisted, tightening his hold on him. It wasn’t even painfully constricting, but still firm. There was no getting out of it. Reluctantly, Barkovitch admitted to himself that resistance seemed to be futile and stopped his squirming.
One of Parker's arms moved to rest properly around his waist, his other hand coming up to rest on his chest, right over where his heart was jackhammering in the constraints of his ribcage. When Parker settled his chin on Barkovitch’s shoulder, a sob tore out of him.
It broke the dam for good, as Barkovitch cried and sobbed, hands coming up to press against his face, trying to hide. Great. Parker had to think he was a real freak now, having a mental breakdown right after sex.
But all Parker did was hold him through it all, pressing the occasional kiss to his shoulder or his hair, whispering soft, calming words to him that only made Barkovitch cry harder.
“Why are you pretending you care?” Barkovitch bit out eventually, once he had managed to get the tears to stop and Parker gave a deep sigh, gently squeezed his waist.
“I’m not fucking pretending. Is it really so hard to believe I give a shit about you?” he asked and Barkovitch had to admit that...no, it wasn’t that hard to believe. He knew Parker didn’t always show it in any traditional ways, but he cared a great deal about those close to him and he guessed...he fell into that category as well.
“Fine. You care. Got it,” he said, wiping angrily at his face, trying to get rid of any evidence of his tears. Parker's hands suddenly stopped him, gently took over the task for him, making him feel like crying again. Somehow, he kept it together.
“Will you tell me now what upset you?” Parker asked, once he was done and Barkovitch turned his head so he could look at him.
“You told me I didn’t have to tell you, you ass,” he griped and Parker gave him a small smile, an eyebrow going up.
“Usually you never miss out on telling me when I fucked something up. What’s so different this time?” he asked and his tone was light but Barkovitch was too good at hearing insecurity in someone’s voice, even when they were trying to hide it. And he didn’t want Parker to unnecessarily beat himself up over something. That was more Barkovitch’s thing anyway.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Barkovitch insisted, gave a sigh. His hand went up to his own neck and he scratched at it, the old nervous habit kicking in as usual.
“Is it because we did something, well, for lack of a better word, gay?” Parker ventured, grabbing Barkovitch’s hand and taking it into his own, stopping him from scratching himself. Barkovitch screwed his eyes shut.
“Fuck off,” he said but clearly, that was confirmation enough for Parker.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know that, right?” he asked and Barkovitch groaned, leaned his head back against Parker's shoulder and dared to open his eyes again in order to stare at the ceiling. It was easier than looking at Parker.
“Yeah yeah I know. You’ve all sure hammered it into my head enough back when I still kept slipping up with the comments about Garraty and McVries,” he said and Parker gently squeezed his hand.
“Well, all the stuff we said goes for you too. I know your family always said a lot of bullshit about gay people. But you don’t have to listen to their opinions anymore. Hell, next time I go home, you should tag along and then you can see how a family is meant to act when it comes to these things,” Parker said and Barkovitch blinked at the ceiling, then sat up and turned a bit so he could blink at Parker in confusion instead.
“Are you actually inviting me to meet your family right now?” he asked, disbelief in his voice. Parker suddenly looked uncharacteristically nervous.
“Uh, yeah? Is that too quick? Don’t worry, I will obviously take you on a bunch of dates first-” he said and Barkovitch held up a hand to stop him from talking. His heart was doing its best attempt at breaking out of his ribcage.
“Dates?” he choked out and Parker's eyes went wide.
“Uh, yeah? We don’t have to tell the others about us if you’re not ready but I wanted to at least take you out. We can just tell them we’re hanging out,” Parker explained, just that Barkovitch still felt like his brain was bluescreening.
“You want to date me?” he damn near shrieked out and Parker looked utterly confused at that, eyebrows furrowing together.
“Yeah? I thought that was obvious?” he asked and Barkovitch felt a little faint.
“It wasn’t…it wasn’t obvious to me,” he choked out. Now it was Parker's turn to look confused.
“I figured me saying I liked you in my shirt should have given it away? And me sleeping with you? Also, me saying I would like to do this again? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually do onenightstands,” Parker said and Barkovitch felt like he had been hit.
“Oh,” he said, dumbly. Then, “I like you.”
Well, clearly he must have sustained some kind of brain damage while he hadn’t been looking. Why the fuck had he just said that?
Parker grinned at him.
“Kinda figured that out when I walked in on you jerking off while wearing my shirt, yeah,” he said and Barkovitch wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Parker kissed his cheek and he could feel himself go red in the face.
“I like you too. Now that we established that, we should probably get cleaned up,” he said and Barkovitch’s head was still spinning, but he could also feel an adrenaline crash coming on and he was sticky as hell, so he just nodded in agreement.
What he didn’t expect, was for Parker to stand up and just lift him in a damn bridal carry in the same go.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” he complained, even as he clung onto Parker for dear life. Parker gave a grunt and adjusted his hold on him.
“Your ass is most definitely not capable of walking yet, so I’m carrying you to the bathroom. You will just have to live with it,” he said and started walking. Being carried like this was humiliating and also...kind of nice. Not that he would let Parker know.
Once they had somehow managed to get into the shower together, Parker helped him both stand and wash up. Which was also a mix of embarrassing and really nice. He even helped him get the rest of the cum out of himself and Barkovitch decided that next time he would make Parker prep him, his fingers reaching so much deeper than his own could.
And wasn’t that a wild thought? That there would be a next time?
After they were both clean, they got out of the shower and dried off. Then Parker sat Barkovitch down on the closed toilet for a moment and went to get them sleep clothes to wear. When he returned and smirked while handing Barkovitch a shirt that was obviously
Parker's, Barkovitch glared at him. He put it on all the same though.
They both decided that cleaning Barkovitch’s bed was a problem for the next day. So they just curled up in Parker's bed instead. It was a tight fit but they made it work. Parker was covering Barkovitch’s entire back, arm slung over his waist, chin resting on top of Barkovitch’s head. Everything smelled like Parker. Barkovitch had never felt so safe before in his entire life.
“I like you,” he whispered out, just because he could. Because right now, the voices usually screaming in his head were silent for once. The thoughts would be back in the morning, but right now, for once, Barkovitch let himself have this.
“I like you too,” Parker whispered back, tilted his head down and pressed a kiss to his hair, before settling into his previous position.
Barkovitch let himself believe it.