ratherbefishin (ratherbefishin) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2020-08-26 18:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | ronnie milam, ~mikey marks |
Who: Mikey, Ronnie
What: Ronnie leaves a pie on Mikey's doorstep after their meet-cute at the grocery store. Things progress rather rapidly from there.
Where: The Roadhouse, followed by Ronnie's trailer
When: August 23, Closing time
Ratings: Oh, definitely NC-17. Long. Schmoopy. Cavity-inducing.
When Mikey’d opened the front door to his trailer earlier that day, he’d nearly stepped straight into a freshly baked apple pie sitting merrily on the porch, the crust golden brown, a cheery smiley face cut into it grinning up at him.
Holy shit, he’d thought, he made me apple pie?
This was followed in quick succession with a rush of thoughts, including Maybe I’m not as big an idiot as I thought and Should I write a thank you note? and Jesus, this pie is good, the latter expressed in a pleased groan with a fork in hand at his small kitchen counter.
He’d found out the name of the man the previous day, as soon as he’d gotten home from the grocery -- he’d phoned his Grandma, who’d spilled all she knew about Rosie’s boy Ronnie -- she had a few choice things to say about Ronnie’s dad that hit a little too close to home as well.
After a thoroughly distracted day of work (with pie for lunch -- he’d left some for Abby, but honestly, it was damn good pie), and an even more distracted dinner (Abby’d teased him about how much of the pie he’d eaten, and where it’d come from exactly, which he’d made worse by being evasive) and post-dinner hike to clear his head, he’d finally pulled himself together enough to run a quick errand before the grocery closed for the night, and gathered together enough courage to stop over at the Roadhouse fifteen minutes before close, his heart hammering in his chest. As soon as he pulled into the drive, he’d immediately regretted doing it -- You’re gonna make this weird, aren’t you? He’s gonna think this is weird bumping up against He made you pie, dude until he got out of the truck with a nervous rush and made his way in for a coffee, asking the hostess if Ronnie was around.
’Hey good lookin’, what you got cookin’? How’s about cookin’ something up with me?’ The little radio behind the wall where the kitchen was played music. By now, everything was beginning to wind down. Ronnie wiped up some of the stainless steel appliances. He hummed along.
Through the window he happened to look up just as the tall blonde from the grocery store caught his eye. Ronnie smiled and waved, singing the next verse mostly to himself “Hey sweet baby, don’t say maybe.”
“Ronnie, we need coffee out here,” the hostess murmured. “I got it, LeeAnn. You go on home.” LeeAnn would nod and smile.
He turned the radio down, tossed a fresh Denny’s mug into the air and caught it in his palm right side up before moving out of the kitchen and to the coffee pots. “One cup of coffee coming up!” LeeAnn locked the front doors to keep any other patrons out as she settled up with the ones inside.
With the pot brewing, Ronnie turned to look at Mikey. “Hey! What’s up?”
“Hey yourself,” Mikey replied, his smile tugging up at the corner of his mouth. “Well…” he added, leaning back a little on his stool, “I had a pretty damn good day,” he said. “You see, someone left me an apple pie this morning. Right there on my doorstep. And lemme tell you, it was a really good pie.”
“They did?” He acted shocked. “Well that does sound like a good day. If the pie was that good, and all. Few people can make good pie. I bet whoever left it ain’t no good.” Laughing softly, he filled the cup for Mikey and set it down. “So you won’t need sugar then, since you’ve had your sweets for the day.” Cream and sugar were always within reach, though.
“And you came all the way to the diner for — food? Coffee?”
Mikey flushed a little. “Didn’t have your number,” he replied, his voice low as he brought out a small paper bag and set it on the counter. He looked up at Ronnie with a slight quirk of his eyebrows. “And I figured I could leave this on your porch, and draw out that particular problem a little while longer, or just… come here instead. Get a chance to tell you how good it was in person.”
He shrugged, his mouth jerking up in a quick grin. “Coffee’s just a bonus,” he added. “I can… I know you’ve got stuff to do,” he continued, looking over his shoulder at the locked door before looking back up at Ronnie, “you know, cleaning up and stuff, if it’s… I can leave you to it?” He paused a little. “If you need?” He said, uncertainty written all over his face.
He looked at the bag with interest. “Wow,” Ronnie breathed, his grin widening, “that’s so nice of you, thanks.” A small napkin would come up and he found a sharpie near the register, scrawling his mobile number down onto it. Then, with a twist of flair, he drew a tiny stick figure that was supposed to be him and one that was supposed to be Mikey (clearly the Mikey one was more built) before twirling it over to the other man. “You have it now.” The sharpie went back where he found it and he picked the bag up again.
“Oh man, this is fantastic!” The nutmeg and cinnamon sticks would be a great addition to a dish, or a coffee. “I love cinnamon sticks in my coffee - just the right amount of spice and flavor plus it dissolves naturally and doesn’t add any sugar. Watching my figure and stuff, you know.”
“And I’m really glad you liked the pie. Apple isn’t my favorite but people seem to like it. I uh, don’t make it for just anyone.” It was a secret family recipe passed down to him. “You’re never bothering me. I’m glad for the company.” LeeAnn and the busboy would’ve been long gone by now. A few dishes sat in the large sinks back in the back and before too long he’d be prepped for the next day.
The smile that spread across Mikey’s face was slow and pleased, his shoulders dropping a little as he looked down at the napkin -- the drawing made him huff in laughter as he pocketed it carefully. He still felt like he’d gone out on a bit of a limb -- the sort of swoop in his belly he felt while he was hiking along a cliff face, or was chasing a rabbit through the underbrush -- but it was the good kind of swoop, and Ronnie’s easy grin made him feel far less foolish than he had in the parking lot.
Besides.
He’d made him pie.
Special pie.
“Yeah,” he said, “...yeah, okay.” He settled against the counter. “Never heard of straight up putting cinnamon sticks into coffee,” he said. “I guess that makes sense, though. What’s your favorite pie?” He added. “I gotta say,” he continued, his chin tilting a little, “apple’s currently at the top of my list, but I can be persuaded.”
A single finger would be held up in the gesture to wait. “Oh, let me blow your mind, hang on.” Ronnie turned and moved to the sink to wash up. After his hands were dried, he pulled the hair net off of that dark tangle of bun and he came back to the little bag. The hairnet was set aside and forgotten in favor of the contents.
One of the cinnamon sticks came out and he set it into an empty mug. That one would be filled with the fresh coffee and he used it to stir the brew and let the elements settle. “Okay. Try this. If you hate it, I’ll drink it, but I swear it’s good.”
And then he addressed the question. “Oh, probably chocolate pie.”
“Yeah,” Mikey replied, “yeah, chocolate’s pretty decent, just in general. You talkin’ like, a pudding consistency with whip topping, or mousse, or more like a… you know… ganache?”
He took a sip of the coffee, and paused, letting the fragrance of the cinnamon wash over him. “Yup,” he added, “that’s… huh.” His smile widened. “S’ nice.” He rested his elbow on the counter. “Real nice. You’re right, it doesn’t need anything else, really.” He shook his head. “Might make the office coffee bearable,” he added.
His eyes flickered up to Ronnie’s hair, all those curls tied back neatly in a bun -- it suited him, although he couldn’t help but imagine letting it all loose.
He offered the coffee cup to Ronnie with a raise of his eyebrow. “Want some?” He asked.
Eyebrows arched a bit and he smirked, “Oh, getting fancy on me, huh? I’m more of a ganache kind of dude but chocolate is chocolate and I’m not complaining.” He made one heck of a soufflé, too. Dessert was always on the menu but it was challenging when you were alone, trying to feel good about yourself while tackling an entire pie.
And he felt proud when the reaction to the cinnamon stick was well received. “Right? It’s so good.” He took the cup and carefully sipped, savoring the liquid. “Oh yeah, hits the spot. Chicory is good, too. OH! Did your sister like that ginger?”
Mikey laughed. “We got a bet going -- she says I’ll manage to find some way to kill it in a month, I say we’ll have a bumper crop of ginger heading all the way into winter.”
When the cup was passed back his way, he grinned a little at the brush of Ronnie’s fingertips against his. “And chocolate… I mean, it’s pretty much the best. I had this Mexican style drinking chocolate once with chili in it? I still think about it.”
“Like a horchata?” The cinnamon settled into his senses and he felt more at ease. It reminded him of fall, the holidays, pumpkins and cooler weather. “Hot cocoa anything always hits the spot. And you can get creative with it.” That was the best part.
“Please tell me this isn’t the kind of bet where you do something insane like shave your head or get a crazy tattoo when you lose,” he laughed. “I believe you can do it, I’ll tell you all of the crazy ginger secrets.”
Mikey hummed. “It was really thick and rich -- like… almost like drinking melted chocolate. And the chili gave it a little kick -- I think you’d like it. They had these little pots they served it in, cos anything more than like a few sips and it’d just be too much.”
He laughed. “And nah,” he added. “Just teasing rights. Still wouldn’t mind some crazy ginger secrets though. And you sayin’ I wouldn’t look good with a shaved head?” He added with a grin, leaning a little closer to Ronnie. “Tell me you don’t have a thing about tattoos,” he continued, laughing again. “I don’t have any crazy ones,” he said, “least I don’t think they are?”
Ronnie laughed, wrinkling the end of his nose. He said it before he realized it, “Mikey, you’d look good in a garbage bag.” And once he did realize it his face flushed a bit and he cleared his throat. “I mean, you know — “ He needed to stop talking before this man got smart and ran for the closest sand dunes.
“Tattoos are great. I don’t have any, I don’t like needles, but now that you said you have some I’m really curious.” Did that sound lame? Was it too much? He hadn’t found an opportunity to be so casual in a while and Mikey was so easy to talk to and be around.
“You can tell me to shut up anytime cause I will probably embarrass myself.”
“Nah,” Mikey said, his voice low, his grin tucking into the side of his mouth, “you can sweet talk me any day.”
He could feel that swoop in his belly again as he looked up at Ronnie. “I don’t…” he swallowed. “I think you’re cute,” he said. “I think you’re really cute, and I wanna get to know you better, possibly a lot better,” he added quietly, his own cheeks flaming. “Definitely a lot better,” he clarified. “See, now, I’m catchin’ up. Between the two of us we’re just gonna die of embarrassment. But I’m pretty sure you’re worth being embarrassed for.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he mumbled, “I mean, yeah,” he said, “...yeah, I got some. Wanna see ‘em?”
His mouth opened and he closed it again as the revelation came. Cute. Mikey thought he was cute. Ronnie looked around as if to check for anyone else who this Adonis might be talking to though he knew it was only just the two of them. Those light eyes would turn back to the other man and his mouth formed a grin. “Uh, I'd like that...a lot...actually.” Knowing this man in all possible ways sounded adventurous and he wanted it.
“Thanks. I think you’re really cute, too. Like wow...I mean, gosh I’m an idiot, uh, yeah.”
Hand would lift and Ronnie rubbed the back of his neck trying to keep himself from dying of embarrassment and trying his best not to let on how utterly turned on he was just then. “Sure, I mean, if you wanna show me sure I’d be okay with that.”
Mikey swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he replied, “hell yeah I wanna show you.” He laughed. “You kiddin’ me?” He reached out to brush his fingers against Ronnie’s arm. “You made me pie.”
A breath. Ronnie leaned into that brush of fingers and his skin began to crawl with delight. His stomach did flips, and a chuckle left his lips. “Oh, good. I thought I was dreaming that up for a second.” He nodded. “I’d make you all of the pie you want.”
The realization that they were in a well lit diner visible from the road gave Mike a bit of a pause -- otherwise he would’ve been tempted to show him right then and there. “You…” he grinned. “You need help closin’ up?”
With a smirk, Ronnie straightened up and threw a hand over a shoulder as if waving the other man to the back. “Yeah, come on. I’ll get the lights in the dining room but the back is well lit enough.” And it was discreet and closed off from the public.
He held the little door open for Mikey and let it swing closed after himself. The apron would be unwound and hung up, revealing the standard chef uniform beneath.
Mikey padded after Ronnie into the kitchen, looking around curiously at the workspace -- already pretty clean to his amateur eyes, and neatly organized, before turning back to Ronnie with a playful expression.
“Kay, Boss,” he said, “...your kitchen, your rules.” He stepped a little closer, his heart thumping. “You wanna close this place up fast so we can get the fuck out of here?” He grinned, leaving the Or unspoken, but definitely implied.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Yup, give me a few!” He didn’t know what Mikey had in mind exactly but whatever it was, as long as they could do it together, he was fine with it. “And someone did promise to show me some tattoos,” Ronnie laughed. He finished up the few dishes and put away anything that needed to be refrigerated.
Before long he was sliding out of the chef’s garb, hanging it up. That left him in a white tee shirt and his work pants. His phone and keys were gathered and moments later he was turning off the lights and leading his friend out through the back so he could lock up properly. “Okay, adventure ahoy. Let’s go.”
Mikey laughed a little as Ronnie locked up the restaurant, the night sky a brilliant streak of stars overhead and the desert air cool on his face. His mind was racing right along with his heart, not sure what on earth he was even doing, or what would be the right way to go about it -- but he figured they were both making it up as they went, so that’d be okay.
Ronnie’d finished, and turned to him with that happy smile of his, his eyes crinkling at the corners, happy about this, whatever this was, happy about Mikey being there, which made Mikey’s heart leap in his chest.
“Yeah,” he said, “I’m there. You wanna…” he reached out to hook his fingers in Ronnie’s belt, pulling him a little closer, his throat thick. “You want me to follow you to your place?” He asked, his voice dropping low. “I…” he grinned a little, curling down to kiss Ronnie lightly on the lips before straightening with a grin. “Whatever you’re up for,” he added. “Seriously. Whatever. You wanna play video games, I’m there. You wanna shoot the shit all night, I’m so there. You wanna just make out a bunch, or fuck like bunnies, or take things slow and sweet, shit, dude,” he swallowed. “I’m down.”
Drawing closer, hands would find a place on Mikey’s hips and Ronnie looked up at him. And as their mouths collided he couldn’t help the noise of pleasure that escaped. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee and Ronnie felt as if he may explode right there and die happy. “So I get to know you better and kick your butt in Mario Kart? Best night ever. How about we do all of that and in no particular order.” Except maybe the rabbit part first and then everything else afterward.
Throwing all caution to the wind, Ronnie leaned up to steal another kiss and then he made himself pull away. That was challenging but if he stayed there any longer they’d never go anywhere except to jail and he didn’t want that.
“Yeah, follow me, won’t take long.” Thankfully he’d grabbed that little bag, too, from the counter. A quick jog to the old truck he drove and Ronnie was leading Mikey toward the trailer on Lincoln street.
As promised, the journey was short and sweet. Once parked he was out and unlocking the door to the small, old trailer. “My good sir,” Ronnie murmured, waving Mikey in politely. He never did this - had people over in general and certainly not for what they were planning.
“Make yourself at home.” A quick moment was taken to let his hair down out of the bun. Shoes would come off - Ronnie hopped on one foot while wrestling a work boot nearly falling over - and sat neatly by the door.
The inside of the trailer was simple and it hadn’t changed much since his mother had lived in it. The furniture was from the 90’s. Thin floors, wood planks on the walls. A pillow and folded blanket sat on one side of a sagging couch. Pictures of a lifetime gone hung on the walls, sat around on flat spaces to chronical their lives without Ronnie’s dad.
Mikey took a cue from Ronnie and shucked off his own shoes, stacking them next to Ronnie’s, and gave the place a quick once-over before looking closer at one of the nearby pictures.
“Aww,” he said, “look at small you with that awesome grin you got goin’ on. You were a cute kid,” he added, turning back to Ronnie with a smile, his eyes flicking up to Ronnie’s hair, which was now curling wildly. He stepped a little closer in his sock feet. “Cuter now,” he added, laughing. “Thanks for having me over,” he added, his hand reaching out to rest on Ronnie’s hip. “S’ nice,” he continued. “You’re nice.”
“You should see me when I’m angry,” he teased, pretending to growl and be fierce but he doubted it would really have much impact considering he burst into a laugh. “Thanks for coming over.” It was a nice change of pace. His arms wound around the other man and drew him close. This hadn't started off as a shy thing, why start being bashful now?
“Okay, grand tour.” He pointed in a series of directions without even looking, naming one after the other: “living room, kitchen, hallway, bathroom, bedroom.”
“You cook a lot when you’re off duty?” Mikey asked, curious, keeping his gaze on Ronnie, his other hand reaching up to tangle his fingers through Ronnie’s curls as they curved closer to each other. “I mean,” he added, his mouth quirking at the corner, “I can see it either way. Wanting to take a break, wanting to make whatever you want instead of what someone else orders, and… fuck,” he mumbled, “why am I still talking?”
He kissed Ronnie again, a light invitation. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Hi.”
“Not really,” he admitted. Shrugging a shoulder absently his smile waned a bit, “It’s usually just me unless D is in town or something but he doesn’t eat much. Special occasions only - like bringing pie to strangers.” His words fell off when those fingers made it into the mess of curls, Ronnie was nearly a puddle of purrs one would’ve thought he was a cat.
The kiss this time was slow, patient and full of purpose, when he returned it. “Hi,” he laughed, catching Mikey by the mouth again. Hands crept to the front of the other man’s pants, working the button loose blindly.
It had been, to put it mildly, a bit of a dry spell for Mikey. Oh, he’d had a few random hook-ups now and then -- folks who’d come into town for a bit of fun, but it’d been a while since his last random tumble with a stranger. And this was different -- Ronnie was a local, and while they hadn’t met properly until the other day, they still had a lot of threads tying them together. Mikey wasn’t sure if this was the smartest choice, in fact, he was almost sure it wasn’t, but it felt very nearly decadent to know that this didn’t have to be a one-off if they didn’t want it to be.
He swore a little against Ronnie’s mouth as the other man reached for the button on his pants, deepening the kiss before parting just long enough to peel off his shirt and toss it to the floor, his own hands holding Ronnie’s face as he kissed him again, the light stubble on Ronnie’s cheeks pricking his skin, his lips lush and soft.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted more, to wrestle Ronnie to the floor, or drop to his knees in front of him, or carry him into the bedroom, or rut against him on the sofa… he wanted all of it, any of it, and he rumbled low in his throat as he pressed against Ronnie.
“Here’s one of ‘em,” he said a little breathlessly, referring to the cougar pawprint on his chest. “Fuck, Ronnie,” he added in a low rasp, palming the shorter man’s ass.
The idea that this was a special occasion was haunting - he already wanted more of this beautiful man but that was selfish. This one had obligations and a family while Ronnie was nearly married to his work for lack of anything else to do, but as long as Mikey came around there would be no fuss. Even if it was to simply chat, have coffee.
A deep breath was exhaled as their mouths parted momentarily and he gasped in a breath, motion at those pants never ceasing until the fabric split. A murmur of triumph and his palms would ascend that toned frame, memorizing every dip and curve.
Breaking away was hard. But he was harder and so was his new friend. Eyes dipped to look at the swath of inked skin and Ronnie leaned over to press a soft kiss against the pad of the paw. It was interesting - he’d seen paw print tattoos before though.
And then his arms would curl around Mikey’s neck and he nearly mounted the man right there, still fully dressed. “That way,” he managed, offering a series of short but heated kisses, throwing an elbow in the direction of the bedroom.
“Hell yeah,” Mikey replied, laughing.
It was an awkward stumble to the bedroom, Mikey’s pants barely hanging on his hips, Ronnie wrapped around him, the two of them furiously kissing, but they managed somehow. Mikey shucked his pants the rest of the way off and kicked them to the side before tackling Ronnie with a whoop, the two of them falling onto the bed, Mikey’s fingers working to undo Ronnie’s fly as they rolled on the bed, their legs hopelessly tangled.
“Jesus,” he gasped, “What do you wanna do?” He asked. “Fuck you can kiss good,” he added. “You want…” he whined a little in the back of his throat as his hips rolled at Ronnie’s insistent fingers wrapping around him. “Whatever you want,” he managed. “I wanna give it to you. Fuck,” he exhaled, bucking in Ronnie’s hand, his own stuttering at Ronnie’s fly before managing to get it undone with a victorious grin.
Thank God the mattress was giving. He hadn’t used it since he replaced it, falling into the old habit of just crashing on the couch in whatever stupor he came home in. Now here was the chance to break it in and give the poor thing a bit of traction. The sheets and blankets were clean just like the rest of the place, so being pinned between it and the man who fit so well against him was a miracle.
He shimmied out of clothes; they would be tossed aside to end up wherever the trajectory sent them without a second thought as to the direction.
“I’ve had a little practice,” he laughed, glad he was still good at it. “And you’re good too, Jesus you’re good.” Like that was even something to doubt. Fingers would move expertly against the now exposed organ doing his best to get Mikey insatiably worked up. “Mm, I don’t care. I just wanna break this mattress in, what do you want, Mikey?” The name was dropped with one of those purrs and Ronnie leaned up on an elbow to catch a bit of skin in his mouth, careful not to leave a mark on Mikey where it could be seen.
Mikey bit back a groan.
“More of that,” he managed. “Lots more. I…” he laughed shortly, pressing his forehead against the crook of Ronnie’s neck as he wrapped his hand around Ronnie and began to match him stroke for stroke.
“I think I wanna take my time with you later,” he said, his voice muffled, “I wanna fuck you nice and good and thorough if that sounds like somethin’ you’d like, but right now…” he looked up at Ronnie and grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dim light of the room, his breath hitching a little as Ronnie’s clever fingers worked away, the slide of skin against skin sweet and good, the smell of sweat and the slight tang of pre-come already in the air. “Right now I wanna blow you so bad I can already taste it,” he exhaled before kissing Ronnie in a clash of lips and tongues and teeth as he rolled his hips against the twist of Ronnie’s hand.
“All you want,” he promised in a heated breath. His heart was pounding. Damn this felt so good, he had nearly forgotten it until now. “Mm, yes. Please. Good and slow.” That sounded ideal, a good and thorough romp. But then the wind changed and he grinned, looking at the other man before diving into the kisses. “Oh god, now, right now.” The idea of being on the receiving end of such an experience had him worked up and writhing with the need to eventually explode.
“I will literally beg you if you want,” he laughed, pressing kisses against Mikey’s mouth again. His hand never ceased and it wouldn’t until the other man pulled away.
Mikey laughed in a huff, breaking away to reposition himself closer to the foot of the bed between Ronnie’s legs, taking a moment to appreciate the view the other man presented -- his curls spilling over the pillow, his lips red and swollen from their furious kissing, his obvious arousal on full, mouth-watering display…
“Hey beautiful,” Mikey murmured as he rested a broad palm on Ronnie’s stomach, his other hand holding Ronnie’s hip, cradling him as he bent over to lick a broad stripe up Ronnie’s hardness, his own heavy between his legs.
Ronnie visibly shuddered. Holy shit that felt good. “Oh god, you’re going to make me spray everywhere,” he laughed, but it was true. While he tended to himself, it never felt this good and he felt a bit embarrassed at the idea of coming too soon or too fast. He lifted himself up slightly, propped on elbows, getting a good view of what was going on down below.
He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this - Mikey’s kindness and also the eagerness, any of the attention - but he didn’t want to lose it any time soon.
Mikey could feel Ronnie shifting, and made a point of locking eyes with the other man, his fingers splaying wide against Ronnie’s stomach as he continued to lick and mouth at Ronnie’s length, enjoying the taste of Ronnie’s sweat and arousal, his tongue swirling around the top before wrapping his lips around him, looking up at Ronnie as he began to bob his head, his grip on Ronnie’s hip sure and firm.
There was something deeply beautiful about making a partner come apart with his mouth and fingers, and the expression on Ronnie’s face was beyond worth it.
He reached for Ronnie’s hand, lacing their fingers together, a low hum in the back of his throat as he took Ronnie in.
His mouth dropped to form a singular vowel - a near perfect ‘o’ - and a soft noise of pleasure escaped. The nerve endings fired and his cock twitched, leaking precum from the tip and down over the crown. And then as the muscle lapped at the more sensitive areas he inhaled deeply and shut his eyes. “Mikey.” He couldn’t help it - it was that or something embarrassing like a term of endearment he wouldn’t recall muttering until later reflection that might scare the other man off - and so he didn’t think anything of it.
Fingers fell between Mikey’s and Ronnie held them, squeezed gently. “What are you not perfect at?” He laughed, falling into a flutter of noises fitting of the moment. He made himself look down, though, wanting to watch the way Mikey’s mouth fit so perfectly around him.
Mikey released Ronnie with a slide of his lips, and grinned. “Can’t bake for shit,” he said with a wink before going back to his purpose with a singular focus, his fingers sliding against Ronnie’s as he swallowed Ronnie down, picking up his rhythm with the slight roll of Ronnie’s hips flexing against his other hand, his thumb brushing the dip in Ronnie’s pelvis as his tongue swirled.
“Oh god.” He moaned, body moving into the rhythm but not enough to hurt his partner. “I’d bake for you all day. Martha Stewart style.” He didn’t care as long as Mikey kept talking. “Oh man, so close,” he managed but any other words that may have been on his tongue vacated as the sensation of climax began to take hold.
He felt bad but oh it felt so good that the lingering feeling overwhelmed any self-doubt. They still had all night to recover and keep going and he wasn’t ready to quit. “Jesus.”
Mikey swallowed Ronnie down as he felt the bitter pulse in the back of his throat, holding Ronnie’s fingers in his and cradling Ronnie’s hip as he rode through his orgasm, looking up at the expressions on Ronnie’s face as he shuddered and came -- the slight wrinkle between his eyes, his mouth dropping open, his eyes shutting tight…
It made Mikey deeply aware of his own arousal curling in his stomach.
“Hey,” Mikey said with a grin, giving Ronnie’s hip a kiss and holding back his urge to lick a long stripe up the hair on his belly. He laughed, sliding up Ronnie’s delightfully compact body, his hardon bumping against Ronnie’s thigh as he did so.
He was grinning like a fool. Smile stretched tight as his face tingled from the onset orgasm. His breathing slowed though his heart felt as if it would burst from his chest. “Hi,” he said, sleepily, and then he laughed softly. He wasn’t tired, not really, but momentarily spent. Arm lifted and curled around Mikey to draw the man in for a kiss. He could taste himself there on Mikey’s lips and another groan left him.
The hand on Mikey’s stayed. He didn’t realize how much he needed that solidarity - even if his partner didn’t feel it that little gesture meant something in some small context that maybe it was more than just a one-time thing.
Legs would spread and hook around Mikey’s thighs, holding him in place. “Your turn,” Ronnie murmured into that kiss.
Some people could be weird about kissing after going down -- Mikey was glad that was still on the table, and gave Ronnie’s fingers an appreciative squeeze as he slid against Ronnie’s thighs, the sensation making him shudder at the friction, his hips rolling to get that feeling again. “Yeah?” He said with a grin, kissing Ronnie again just because he could. “Like watchin’ you come,” he added in a low purr, his free hand brushing through Ronnie’s curls.
Free hand lifted, fingers tucked into that beautiful hair and he pulled at the strands gently. “Mhm,” came the mumbled reply, Ronnie grinned into that connection. Boy this was the best night ever. “You can watch as much as you want. But I need a second to recuperate.” Because damn if Mikey didn’t empty everything he had and a recharge was in order. A few moments and he’d be good to go again.
“Usually dinner comes with a show but I’ll let you slide this time.”
Mikey huffed a laugh, continuing to lazily slide against Ronnie -- the other man didn’t seem to mind, and it gave him just enough friction to keep him in the game. He kissed Ronnie slowly, exhaling quietly as Ronnie’s fingers threaded through his hair. “Definitely more of that too,” he said, laughing again as Ronnie obliged.
“As you wish,” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows. Those fingers moved patiently through that mane of hair, pulling gently and massaging the scalp. There was no doubt that this man was gorgeous, he wanted to know more about him to see if everything else was as lovely. His frame shimmied a bit to accommodate that growth below, hoping it wouldn’t take too long before he was ready to go again.
“I’m so fucking glad you’re into dudes,” Mikey sighed, his hips rolling in a gentle and steady rhythm against Ronnie’s thigh. “I wasn’t… til the pie, I wasn’t sure if you were just bein’ super friendly,” he admitted, biting his lip at how good it felt. “When I said you weren’t too short,” he added, “I wanted to say you weren’t too short for me and... I chickened the fuck out.” He laughed a little. “M’ not…” he buried his head in Ronnie’s neck with a low groan, his hips continuing to circle slowly. “Don’t tend to hit on guys in town.” He laughed a little into Ronnie’s neck. “This isn’t…” He kissed Ronnie’s neck as he ran his hand down his ribs. “This is real nice.”
Ronnie smiled. “Yeah, I’ve been into dudes for a while. No worries there. I like ladies too, but you know, there’s just something about you that’s irresistible.” And who knew that fortune would be in both of their favors. But he listened to the rest, surprised by the bit of fear Mikey expressed. “Well, I’m glad one of us was the brave one cause I don’t think I ever would’ve had the guts to say anything.” It was hard to gauge in this town and you couldn’t be too careful. Even as progressive as the age was, this was a tiny town with old-school principles.
“This is nice,” he sighed, relieved. Hand worked into that hair, kneading and tugging gently while his frame pushed against Mikey’s. “I don’t really hit on anyone either, my — uh, last thing was like five years ago so.”
“Yeah?” Mikey replied with a quiet exhale as they shifted together slowly. “M’ glad you made an exception,” he added. “Promise not to get cocky about it,” he continued with what could best be called a shit-eating grin as he rubbed against Ronnie with a slight emphasis to his hips.
“Made me pie,” he repeated softly, giving their still-linked hands a squeeze. “Best goddamn pie I ever had.”
He bit back a few other things he was too horny to phrase properly -- like whether this was a thing, or could be a thing, because they’d just met, and even though Mikey was utterly shit at relationships -- one girl he’d tried dating in college had claimed he had too much trouble opening up, which, she’d had a point -- he knew not to push. Especially given it’d been a while for Ronnie.
Another roll of his hips drove that particular line of inquiry out of his head entirely as he kissed Ronnie again.
“As much as you want,” Ronnie murmured, mostly regarding the pie but that really applied to more than just dessert in this context. He could feel himself beginning to grow excited again, and every little touch or motion increased that growing emotion. Mikey could probably feel it considering it was nestled between them.
His eyes closed as their mouths met. Those kisses were sweet, he savored them, and it made him want more all over again. “Mikey,” he groaned into the connection.
Mikey broke from the kiss to nuzzle Ronnie’s neck, his broad hand wrapping around both their lengths for a few lazy thrusts. “Mmm,” he replied, careful not to use too much pressure in case Ronnie was still tender. “Well, hello,” he added, grinning against Ronnie’s neck, rubbing his nose into the sweet hollow between his neck and shoulder.
“You smell fucking great,” he added in a low rumble. “For the record.”
His head tilted to expose skin, and he grinned wide at the nuzzling. Frame would move into that motion, the way their cocks pushed together had him nearly crazy with desire. “Oh yeah.” He needed this man plowing him into the bed frame, and quickly.
“Thanks,” Ronnie laughed. “You smell pretty great, too.” He shifted a touch so his body didn’t decide to fall asleep considering the blood was moving in another direction now.
“What do you wanna do next?”
Mikey shook his head, grin widening as he twisted the hand that held both of them, the sensation making him shudder. “Your turn to say.” He kissed Ronnie. “Tell me,” he added, “tell me in detail.” He nudged Ronnie with his nose. “You know I’m up for it.” His grin split his face. “Literally,” he added with a small laugh.
“Oh,” he groaned. Ronnie leaned up to press his mouth against the underside of Mikey’s neck. While he’d latched on he didn’t worry the skin enough to leave any discernible marks. He didn’t want to burden the other man with questions or odd looks.
And then those lips crept up slowly - kisses pressed upon jawline, cheek, the base of Mikey’s ear. “I want you to fuck me as hard as you can and not stop,” he breathed into the other man’s ear.
Those words made Mikey shiver, and he groaned against the other man, gripping him tightly and kissing him. “Yeah,” he said, “...yeah,” he added. “Jesus,” he continued, his heart pounding in his chest, “you got slick? Or you want it without? I got a condom in my wallet,” he added, craning his neck over to look at his pants pooled by the door. “Fuck, Ronnie,” he exhaled, resting his forehead briefly against the other man’s. “M’ gonna make this good for you.”
Ronnie didn’t mind a little bit of aggression here and there, it was riveting and exciting. He loved the way their mouths pressed together, the way his body yielded and contorted to Mikey’s touch. “Mm, there’s some over there,” he managed, trying to make himself think sensibly and focus.
There was a bit of a pause while the two men got re-situated, but it didn’t take long before Mikey was working two fingers inside Ronnie, twisting and scissoring, his other hand splayed possessively on Ronnie’s stomach. “That’s right,” he said, “you’re so good at taking it, look at you, how fucking gorgeous you are with my fingers in you,” he growled, low in his throat. “Gonna use my mouth on you next time,” he added, twisting his fingers deeper, “gonna lick you wide open until you’re begging for it, then slide in and fuck you slow, but not tonight. Tonight you’re gettin’ it hard. Gonna break this mattress in. You ready for me?” He asked. “You ready? Cause I sure as fuck am.”
The idea of that mouth working him up instead of using the lube had his heart rate picking up again.
Resting there, he braced himself and began to shiver upon penetration of that digit. Oh that felt good, he forgot just how amazing it was. “Oh god, oh yeah,” he breathed. “Oh baby that sounds so good, please do that.” Split open by Mikey’s strong tongue and then screwed into oblivion sounded like a dream. “I’m ready. I’m so ready for you.”
Mikey growled low in his throat as he slid his fingers out and began to push himself into Ronnie -- he knew the other man was looking for a ride, he wanted to give it to him, badly, but he was aware of his strength, that his grip could bruise, that he could do serious harm to Ronnie if he let go entirely -- he could feel Ronnie’s body shuddering around him, and he ran his hand along Ronnie’s side as he pushed in further. “That’s good,” he said, reaching over to tug lightly on the curls on Ronnie’s head before resting his hand on the base of Ronnie’s neck, his other hand gripping Ronnie’s hip. “You’re so good,” he repeated, “just like that, gorgeous, come on, yeah, fuck you feel amazing.”
Oh shit. Mikey was so big, like everything else about him, but Ronnie was as prepared as he could be. His body tensed instantly but he made himself relax. “Oh yeah,” he moaned, back arching. “Just like that.” He expelled a sharp breath and clung to the other man. Eventually he made it all the way down and rested for a bit. “Wow,” he breathed, pressing his mouth against Mikey’s neck, “god you feel so good.” Better than anyone else he could remember being with, anyway.
When he felt like he was ready, he nodded, beginning to move a bit against that intrusion.
Mikey rested his forehead against Ronnie’s shoulder as he started to move, his arm hooking around Ronnie’s leg for purchase, his other hand gripping Ronnie’s hip. He huffed against Ronnie’s neck, fighting the urge to latch his teeth on the meat of Ronnie’s shoulder as he drove into him, settling for a low growl instead, a steady rumble in the back of his throat as he began to move against Ronnie. “You like this, gorgeous?” He asked breathlessly as they began to pick up the pace. “You good? Fuck, Ronnie,” he exhaled, “fuck, this is… ngh,” he groaned into Ronnie’s neck.
As they tangled, Ronnie drew himself close and drove his fingers into Mikey’s hair again. A bit more rough, he tugged as the momentum began to pick up. His other hand found purchase on the skin at Mikey’s shoulder, nails digging in. “Oh fuck,” he moaned loudly. Ronnie wasn’t typically one to swear, but in this context he couldn’t help it. “Harder,” he laughed, rolling his body down against Mikey. His muscles tightened and relaxed, tightened again upon that organ. “Don’t stop, yeah. Oh.”
His eyes squeezed shut and he let the feelings take him.
Mikey obliged, driving into him with greater force, rattling the bedframe as he picked up the pace, the feeling of Ronnie wrapped around him intense and good. He moved his hand from Ronnie’s hip to rest it on the bed for a better angle, biting his lip in concentration as they moved together. He snapped his hips, his arm pushing Ronnie’s leg higher as he did so, looking over at Ronnie’s face.
“You look so fucking hot right now,” he said, his voice low. “You know how gorgeous you are? Fuck, Ronnie…” he exhaled, his hand reaching for Ronnie’s again, gripping it tightly before returning to fist the sheets on the bed. “Just like that,” he affirmed. “Just like that, you’re fucking amazing. Fuck,” he rasped, “pull my hair again?”
Mikey was stretching him out. He moved with the other man, hips pushing down as that piston of a cock plowed up into him. It caused his body to shake and his brain clouded with pleasure as any pain he’d felt subsided. “Uh. I get it from you,” he managed, in response to the claim he was gorgeous.
His hand fell back against the bed and he gripped those strong fingers, comforted by the solidarity. “Oh baby,” he groaned. In Mikey’s hair his fingers clamped down and pulled again.
“I got you,” Mikey replied, “I got you. We got this.” He leaned down to kiss Ronnie roughly before picking up his pace once more. “You’re so good, Ronnie,” he added. “You’re so good. You feel fucking awesome. Come on,” he said, reaching between them to palm Ronnie’s hardon with his hand. “Come on, gorgeous, just like that. Fuck.”
He was already creeping close to that threshold again before the pep talk. Mikey could’ve been uttering nonsense and Ronnie would’ve still been turned on and eager to get them both to climax. “You feel good too, holy shit.” He was going to be sore and probably bruised regardless but he wouldn’t be complaining. Not at all.
And then it hit him again nearly like a freight train, that peak. This time he sprayed between them, leaking across those patient digits and getting a bit on warm skin. But god did it feel good when Mikey filled him up, painting the inside of him with that glorious warm liquid. “Oh baby,” he managed, out of breath, mouth dry. He was grinning though.
Mikey laughed as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as he slipped out of Ronnie. “Hey,” he said, “that was pretty fucking awesome.” He collapsed in the bed next to Ronnie, his hand running across Ronnie’s stomach. “You need to clean up?” He asked, leaning over to kiss Ronnie lightly. “Tell me we’re gonna do this again,” he added. “Like. Soon.”
He didn’t want to end. He wasn’t ready, and yet it had and he found he was alright with that. It meant more would come and hopefully soon. Mikey had taken the words out of his mouth and after catching his breath he laughed at the eagerness. “Why couldn’t I have met you sooner?” He murmured, watching Mikey suck fluid from his fingers.
“I’ll clean up in a second. You’re welcome to join me if you want. And yes, please let’s do this soon.” He didn’t know what the expectation was now that they’d done this, what it meant if it meant anything at all. “Very soon.”
“Good,” Mike replied, settling back, running his fingers through the hair on Ronnie’s chest and stomach, leaning over to kiss him again. “Real good.”
It took them another minute or so before things started getting sticky, and they finally managed to roll out of bed and into the small shower -- it was far too small to get up to too much mischief. After, while they were pulling their clothes back on -- Mikey had to wander back into the living room for his shirt -- there was a moment where he wasn’t quite sure what came next.
“Hey,” he said, as he wandered back into the bedroom, pulling his shirt on before reaching out to hook a finger around Ronnie’s belt, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “I don’t… I figure we’re making this up as we go?” He said. “You had a long day, you can try to beat me at Mario Kart, although you’re gonna fail…” his smile curled up at the corner. “Or you can tell me to head on home so you can get some sleep, and I’ll have to kick your ass some other day.”
The shower was refreshing and the company was even better. While he hated the emptiness left over once Mikey had pulled out, he knew there was more to come and he didn’t worry about it much. Dried and clothed, Ronnie padded along after Mikey.
“Oh, those are fighting words. How dare you,” he laughed. That kiss was welcomed and returned in spades, arms winding around the other man. “You can stay and let me knock you off the rainbow bridge, you can stay and we can go back in there and sleep, or you can go. Your choice.” He didn’t want Mikey to feel obligated to do any of it and he would roll with whatever the outcome was.
Mikey grinned, pulling Ronnie in closer. “Play you the Rainbow cup,” he said, kissing him again, his smile curling. He weighed spending the night with a hum. He hadn’t considered it an option, and the fact that it was on the table made his heart beat a little faster, even though rolling up to his trailer early the next morning needing a change of clothes wasn’t ideal. “And then… I got work tomorrow, so I better take off after,” he said, a little regretfully. “Next time? I’ll toss a bag with a change of clothes and a toothbrush and shit in the truck.” He brushed his nose against Ronnie’s, curling toward the shorter man to do so. “That okay?” He asked uncertainly.
“Of course it is.” He nodded and smiled. This didn’t need to start off on the wrong foot and he was in no place to assume or demand or anything of anyone else. Each kiss would be met and returned without any hesitation. “You’d better let me kick your butt now so you can get going.”
“Good,” Mikey replied, relaxing a little. “Good.” He kissed Ronnie and laughed. “And fat chance,” he added, “already owned your sweet ass once tonight, not gonna pass up a chance to own it again.”