WHO: Kirley Duke and Myron Wagtail WHAT: A typical day. WHEN: Sunday afternoon, October 28th, 1998 WHERE: Their flat in Edinburgh. SUMMARY: Myron is pissed off about their housekeeper and makes TWO messes for her to clean up. RATINGS/WARNING: Myron. [aka dirty, dirty sex. NC-17] Also lots of swearing. STATUS: Closed. Complete.
"Goddamn fucking-" Myron was grumbling his words trailing off into a noise of pure frustration as he took in the neat piles of staff paper sitting atop his grand piano. He had left for two hours. TWO HOURS. His hands were clenched into fists that he pried apart to pick up one of the stacks and rifled through it. "Why does she always do this?! Leave my shit alone, for fuck's sake. Now it's all messed up. I had it in order! UGH."
Throwing the parchment down on the piano in disgust, pages slipping lightly across the shiny black surface, some of which spilled onto the floor on the other side, Myron stalked away from the piano, unable to deal with it right now. The ridiculous part was that Myron had the music in his head. He never forgot a melody he was obsessed with, which was always the songs he was currently working on, so he could re-write it, but it was symptomatic of a problem that was driving him crazy.
He found Kirley in the kitchen. "That fucking housekeeper," he growled in greeting and reached past him to pluck the kettle off the hob, pressing up against him more than was strictly necessary but he would take any opportunity to be close to Kirley. Filling the kettle with water, he put it on to boil so he could make some much needed tea. "If she keeps fucking with my music..." He didn't finish the sentence because he hadn't figured out what he was going to do yet.
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Well. The new housekeeper was clearly a bust. Kirley grinned a little to himself as he listened to the vague sounds of Myron’s growling from the other room, while he made himself a sandwich. Yes, it was the middle of the day. No, it was not a mealtime. And yes, he was hungry. Hence sandwich making at random hours. The housekeeper had only been working for them for a few weeks, but the music sheets were still being tidied. And heaven forbid that the music sheets be tidy. Kirley chuckled quietly. You just did not fuck with Myron’s music, in the name of cleanliness or not. Hopefully she’d catch on sooner rather than later or they might have to start looking for another new housekeeper, and getting them broken in to Myron’s particular set of habits was always an interesting process.
Kirley looked up from the sandwich he was setting on a plate as Myron came in and moved up behind him to grab the kettle. He was used to the lack of personal space by now. Twenty years of friendship did that. And with Myron, Kirley didn’t mind. He was protective of his personal space with everyone else, but Myron had uninhibited access. Sandwich plate in one hand, he stepped a little closer and slung his free arm around Myron’s neck, and looked down at him with raised eyebrows. “I’ll talk to her.” Last ditch effort. If the music was found stacked up again, Kirley wasn’t betting on the odds being in her favor.
“Or we can fucking fire her.” Kirley smiled.
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That stunning smile of Kirley's brought a grudging smile to Myron's lips. His arms had slid automatically around Kirley's waist, bringing them close up against each other. "Good," he growled, but less in frustration this time and more with approval. Pressing a kiss to Kirley's lips, he let out a breath, feeling some of his annoyance melting away, just being near Kirley like this. Another few kisses led to a more passionate one that lasted until the kettle whistling dragged Myron's attention away. Breaking the kiss, he turned away to make himself a mug of tea.
"I'm getting bored," he announced. And nothing good ever came of Myron being bored. "We need to do something. Play some shows around the UK. Write a new album..." But if they had a new album, they'd need to tour with it. Myron wondered if they could time it to release not long after Ronnie had the baby. Except... "How old do you think the kid will be before Donny agrees to go on tour again?"
Finding a lemon (at least the housekeeper managed to do the shopping correctly), Myron sliced it to add some to his tea, just the way he liked it.
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Kirley grinned as Myron’s arms slid around him, and his own tightened around Myron’s neck, drawing him closer. The plate with the sandwich almost got forgotten, as Myron kissed him. And kissed him again. Kirley bent his head and captured Myron’s lips in a passionate kiss that lasted until the fucking kettle interrupted. He let Myron draw away, lowering his arm and remembering the plate in his other hand just in time. It had been on the verge of hitting the floor for a few seconds. He took a breath and leaned back against the counter, across from Myron, resting his hip against it. Right. Food.
He took a bite of his sandwich, eyes lifting up to watch Myron as he spoke. Kirley swallowed and licked his lips before attempting to answer. A bored Myron was never a good thing. But he wasn’t alone in it. Kirley had been feeling antsy. He wanted to write new music, he wanted something new, new sounds, new something. “I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.” That limited what they could do as far as touring. “Local would work. He’d be able to get back quickly.” And Kirley was craving the stage. He missed playing for an audience. Missed the noise and energy. Missed the band dynamic.
He took another bite of his sandwich, eyes losing their focus for a minute as he thought about it. What came after the band? With Donny settling down, it was something he’d been considering a lot more than he ever had before. “Maybe we can do something new.” He refocused his eyes on Myron’s face.
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Myron made a face at the idea of being stuck in one place, stagnant, for so long. He had no idea how much longer it was until Ronnie popped out the kid, and Donny felt like he could leave them, but he had a feeling it was going to be longer than Myron was willing to wait. Local would have to work in that case. Possibly even France and Spain given how close they were. Myron missed performing. He needed the adulation like he needed to breathe. "Fucking hell," he swore as he turned to face Kirley and sipped his tea. "Can we take them with us?"
It wasn't that Myron was against children, nor that he would be anything but thrilled when Donaghan's was finally born. Myron was excited to be an uncle to a child whose parents he could actually stand, but it was seriously starting to put a cramp in his life and he didn't like that. He was itching to do something, and performing was like a drug that he hadn't had in far too long. Their recent performance at Stonehenge had been brilliant, and Myron had loved the atmosphere, but that had been one night. If they could string along enough of those one nights, maybe it might get them through.
Looking up at Kirley, he arched an eyebrow, mid-sip of his tea. Kirley had that look on his face that said he was about to be brilliant and Myron's heart skipped a beat. "Like what?"
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The corners of Kirley’s mouth turned up at Myron’s suggestion that they just take Ronnie and yet to be born spawn with them on the road. “Ronnie might object.” Hell, he knew she’d object. “And I’m not sure pregnant lady or newborn is going to be all that great to have around on a tour bus.” He grinned. As much as he missed touring and the stage, they were stuck. And Kirley wasn’t sure how much longer he could take being stagnant. It frustrated him and he didn’t like being frustrated. It made him restless and unsettled, and he wanted to be moving forward.
The last two bites of his sandwich disappeared rapidly and Kirley set his plate down on the counter and licked his lips. Less hungry and considerably more thoughtful about the future, he leaned back against the counter behind him, resting his elbows against the edge and tilting his head a little as he looked at Myron. His eyes were slightly unfocused and intent and he smiled a little as he processed through a possibility, that would require some life changes if they went for it.
At Myron’s arched eyebrow, he smiled a little wider. “What do you think about a recording studio?”
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Myron had been sure Ronnie would object too, but for a moment there, he'd been hopeful. He screwed up his face at the idea of having a pregnant woman or a newborn on tour with them (which certainly was no place for children, newborn or not) despite the fact that it had been his suggestion. He just wanted something to do again. As much as he loved having the free time and looked forward to it when they were on tour, racing from one stop to the next with barely a pause in between to catch their breath, there was only so much of one city that a man could take.
Staring at Kirley, Myron was confused at first. "What about-" he began, then abruptly cut himself off as it dawned on him. "You mean... our own recording studio?" Because of course there was no question that it would be theirs, not just his and not just Kirley's. They had been attached at the hip since they were eleven years old. That wasn't going to change now. He was immediately intrigued by the idea, more energised than he'd been before and he was beginning to smile, his eyes sparkling with the promise of a new adventure.
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The energized excitement that started to spread over Myron’s face made Kirley’s eyes heat up, and his smile grow a little more pointed. It reminded him of the charisma and fire that Myron had on stage. It was infectious, and he could feel some of his own restless frustration settling a little at the idea of a goal, of something new to put his energy into, having a focus for his creativity which had been lacking an outlet lately. “Yes. Our own studio.” His smile widened into a grin, and his mind clicked over into creation mode, his eyes lighting up with concentrated thought. There was so much they could do with something like that. And they had the money, and the name to work with. He glanced around their flat. It was definitely large for a flat, but there was no way in hell they could fit something like a recording studio into it.
They could do a building. Or something like that. And Kirley liked the idea of producing. His ear for music was different and unique, but good. Finding and refining sound for someone else sounded like a challenge. And he was ready for a challenge. “Couldn’t fit it in here.” He murmured, as he glanced back around at Myron and then smiled at him again. “I think we’d be good at it.” Kirley stated firmly.
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Myron was more than ready for a new challenge and he was already starting to consider the possibilities. If it wasn't for this suggestion, it was quite likely Myron would have come up with his own wildly inappropriate way of filling in the time, but this was far better. This was music, and the idea of working with other artists, creating and collaborating, was delicious. Glancing around as Kirley did, he had to agree. He loved their flat, but there was nowhere they could fit an entire recording studio in it without compromising their space. "We'll have to find somewhere else for it," he mused. Whether that was a place simply for the studio, or a place that combined living area with a studio would depend on what was available in Edinburgh, since Myron doubted Kirley wanted to move away from this area.
Glancing back at Kirley, he grinned. "I think it's a brilliant idea," he declared, excited not just by the idea of the studio, but of all the new things they'd be learning. Myron knew how some of the equipment worked, having always made a nuisance of himself when they were recording their own albums, bothering the sound tech with questions and inserting himself into the recording process in order to make sure their sound ended up exactly the way they wanted it, but he didn't know all of it, and he was eager to learn.
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“Let’s start looking.” Kirley’s antsy, restless mind was ready for change. And as he glanced back around their flat again, as much as he liked it, he wondered if maybe he was ready for somewhere new. Somewhere different. He’d never been someone that settled well, constantly wanting to challenge himself, to discover new things. And he was ready for that again. The stagnation that had been slowly plaguing him over the last few months was being washed away in a rush of sparking creativity. And it felt good. He looked back to Myron, his eyes lit with inspiration and focus.
“It happens occasionally.” He grinned, a wide and charming smile that highlighted his whole face. It felt like it had been a while since he’d had a genuinely brilliant idea, and he was just glad that he’d finally had one. And that it happened to be something that both he and Myron could do, and do fucking well. Having a purpose, an idea, a plan… it was rejuvenating. Kirley’s head tilted a little, his body relaxed back against the counter, his eyes scanning over Myron’s face. The rekindling of creativity was lighting his whole being up again. “Come here.” His voice was quiet and firm, and his eyes sparked with heat.
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Myron was feeling it too. After weeks (if not months) of feeling like they were treading water, and simply finding ways to occupy themselves while they waited to figure out their next move, it was wonderful to have a purpose again, and something more intriguing than yet another album. They'd been there, done that many times, and it had become just another part of the job, which didn't inspire Myron at all. THIS inspired him, a new challenge, and he was thrilled by just the idea of it. And as he looked over at Kirley, he was equally thrilled by the transformation he saw. "Okay," he agreed easily, having no real attachment to this flat above any of the others they'd lived in over the years.
A surge of heat rushed through Myron at those two quietly spoken words. The firm tone and the sparkle in Kirley's eyes caused an instant reaction and Myron licked his lips as he set his mug down on the counter behind him and crossed the short distance over to him. There was no question that he'd follow the direction, and his own eyes were lit up with anticipation as he moved closer, hands settling on Kirley's hips, fingers slipping beneath his shirt to rest on bare skin, as they always did. His face tilted up to look at Kirley, waiting to see what he did next, since he had a feeling Kirley had an idea.
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The familiar rush of arousal shot through him, and Kirley took a breath as Myron set down his mug and crossed the room without a word. Still leaning back against the counter that nudged into his hips, Kirley tilted his head down a little, watching Myron silently as he felt hands on bare skin. He waited a beat, just enjoying looking at Myron for a moment, his eyes hot and focused. Lifting one arm, he hooked his hand around the back of Myron’s neck, his thumb pressing and rubbing against the pulse point just beneath the skin. He bent down, his mouth stopping a hair’s breadth away from Myron’s lips before covering them with his own in a firm, deep and dominating kiss. That kiss earlier had been a tease, and Kirley intended to follow through.
Keeping his firm but gentle grip on Myron’s neck, Kirley gripped his hip with his free hand and tugged them closer together, With a quiet growl, he pushed off the counter and reversed their positions until Myron was the one pinned between him and the counter. Kirley closed what little distance there was, one of his thighs situated between Myron’s legs and Kirley’s more than half hard cock pressing against him. Their mouths were still connected and the rush of hunger and heat in his gut settled lower down.
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Myron's breath caught as Kirley stopped within millimetres of his lips, and if it wasn't for the hand on his neck, he would have closed the gap himself. The kiss that followed was intense and Myron's hands slid around Kirley's back, beneath his shirt, sliding over his bare back. It wasn't long before his hands started gravitating down towards Kirley's arse, but before he got there, he was suddenly pressed up against the counter. His breath caught as Kirley's leg pressed between his, forcing him to spread his legs wider and lust shot through him, deepening the heat inside of him.
Grunting into Kirley's mouth with the pleasure of it, Myron's hands finally made it to Kirley's arse, squeezing as he pulled him harder up against him, their bodies pressed tightly together. He loved it when Kirley did something like this, taking control, and Myron was happy to give it. It was just one of the reasons they worked so well together. He was grinding his hips down against Kirley's thigh, enjoying the burst of pleasure each time he did. He might give Kirley control, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to take what he could get, whenever possible.
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The groan that Kirley let out into Myron’s mouth was low and ragged, as Myron’s hands squeezed his arse and tugged him hard, their bodies clashing together. He loved this. Loved the old and familiar play of power between them. Loved the way Myron’s body felt against his. Loved the way his mouth tasted. His hips rocked forward roughly, his hand tightening on Myron’s neck and his head angling to deepen the kiss further. Kirley’s grip on Myron’s hip tightened, and he pressed his thigh up tighter and more forcefully, relishing the feel of Myron grinding down on him. The muscles in his arse tightened under Myron’s hands as he rocked himself forward hard.
His hands moved suddenly, reaching between them to catch hold of the hem of Myron’s shirt. Kirley disconnected their mouths, leaning away with an intense look on his face, as he pulled it roughly up and off, before closing the gap again, his hands settling on Myron’s hips and dragging them forcefully against him with a quiet grunt. Eyes hot and smoldering with hunger, Kirley let them sweep over Myron’s face, taking in his swollen lips with a shot of possessiveness. “Turn around,” he said, his voice quiet and firm, and ragged around the edges with want.
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It never ever failed. No matter how many times they did this, or how many years they'd been doing this, Kirley never failed to get Myron hot and desperate in a handful of minutes. He never wanted that to end, never wanted to see the day that Kirley might meet someone and call an end to this. He knew he'd never survive it. Thankfully that day wasn't coming any day soon, and Myron was far too intent on the way their bodies were moving together in the familiar heated dance they knew so well, yet felt new and exciting every time.
Myron took advantage of the moment Kirley pulled back and as soon as his own shirt was off, he got rid of Kirley's to leave them both shirtless. Myron was breathing heavily as he gazed up at Kirley, his eyes a deeper, more intense green than usual, his cock hard and seeking friction whenever Kirley was pressed up against him. Two more words that sent a shot of heat through Myron (he loved it when Kirley got like this) and he pulled his hands away from Kirley, stealing a quick kiss before he turned around, his hands going to work on his jeans, unfastening them.
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Stripped of his shirt, his bare skin inches from Myron’s, Kirley’s lips parted, his eyes dark and dilated as he looked down at Myron. The way he was breathing, the look on his face as he met Kirley’s eyes… it went straight through him and Kirley’s breathing quickened as Myron pulled away and turned around. He licked his lips, eyes scanning over the expanse of Myron’s back. He never got tired of this. Ever. And the raging hungry need in his gut to claim Myron had grown, a possessiveness that Kirley didn’t really have words or understanding for.
His hands caught hold of Myron’s wrists, stopping him from doing more than unfastening his jeans. “No.” Pressed up to his back, Kirley ground himself against Myron’s arse firmly, his bare chest flush against Myron’s back. Leaning forward, he placed Myron’s hands flat on the counter, leaving him bent slightly at the waist. His tongue stroked over the back of Myron’s neck, and then his teeth bit down gently, stroking back over his skin with his tongue. He released Myron’s wrists, knowing that he would keep his hands where Kirley had placed them, and reached down to the undone fastening of his jeans. Tugging them all the way open, he shoved them down Myron’s hips, and growled in approval at finding nothing underneath.
He wrapped one hand around Myron’s cock and gave it one long, hard stroke as he thrust his hips against hard against him.
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Myron stopped the instant he heard the word 'no', pressing back against Kirley's chest, enjoying the press of bare flesh. He needed physical contact like most people needed to breathe, craving it with an intensity that refused to be put off until a more appropriate time. He was lucky Kirley was so understanding of it, allowing Myron to drape himself over Kirley when he needed to, or even when he just wanted to. Grinding back against Kirley, Myron enjoyed the grip of Kirley's hands on his wrists, preventing him from doing anything but moaning in anticipation at the feel of Kirley's hard cock pressing against his arse.
With his hands placed against the counter, he knew better than to move them (though he had been known to do so when he wanted to see what Kirley would do) keeping his palms flat against the cool counter. Heat shivered down his spine and it was all Myron could do to stay still as Kirley pulled his jeans down. Knowing how Kirley must be looking at him just turned him on even more. Groaning louder as Kirley's hand wrapped around his cock, Myron pressed back against his hips, rubbing his bare arse shamelessly over Kirley's jeans. "Fuck me. Merlin, just fuck me, Kirley."
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Eyes half shut, lips parted to let out a groan, Kirley ground his rock hard, jeans covered cock against Myron’s arse. The way Myron was shamelessly rubbing against him was making it hard for Kirley to think about anything but fucking him. And when Myron begged, and groaned, those words sending a shot of pure arousal right through his body. “Fuck,” he cursed roughly, and let go of Myron’s cock to undo his jeans. A soon as they were loose, he shoved them and his boxer-briefs down his hips, freeing his cock and not bothering with shoving them down any further. He just wanted them out of the fucking way. He bent forward, his hands pressing against Myron’s shoulders and dragging down his back and over the curve of his arse. He used his knees to knock Myron’s legs wider apart, stepping in closer and thrusting his cock between Myron’s thighs.
Seeing Myron like this, bent over and waiting for him, was heady. Kirley’s eyes dragged over his body and his arse in hungry appreciation, and he took a moment to murmur a spell, lubricating his fingers. He slid one into Myron slowly, and then two, teasing him and carefully warming him up. Kirley’s breathing was rapid. He wanted to bury himself inside of Myron and fuck him thoroughly. Murmuring another lubrication spell, his cock wet and hard and throbbing, Kirley replaced his fingers with the head of his cock and worked himself inside with a low, ragged groan, his hands wrapping firmly around Myron’s hips.
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Myron's head was bowed while he waited for Kirley to get his damn jeans down. (He really wished their experiment with clothing removal charms had worked. It would make this part faster, and perhaps his favourite pair of jeans at the time might not have ended up torn to shreds. He was, however, grateful that other parts contained within his jeans had escaped unscathed.) With his legs spread further apart, Myron leaned forward on his forearms, pushing back into him, enjoying the feel of Kirley's hot, hard cock between his thighs.
"Fuck," he muttered, not hearing the quiet murmur of the lubrication spell so the fingers pressing into him came as a very welcome surprise. He felt wide open already, eager and begging to be filled, Kirley's fingers just not cutting it, no matter how lovely and long they were. "Please," he groaned, and was rewarded with the thick press of Kirley's cock against his hole, Myron's breath growing shallow as he pushed back against him, head resting on his clasped hands as Kirley pushed all the way in. Perfect. This was perfect. Myron never felt more whole than he did when he had Kirley deep inside of him. For a moment he almost didn't want to move, wanting to prolong the moment just a little longer, but he couldn't help it, he had to move, and wriggled against Kirley, moving as much as he was able to with the grip of Kirley's hands firmly around his hips.
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“Fuck,” Kirley groaned as he pushed his cock fully into Myron, pausing when he was all the way in, reveling in the tight feel of Myron around him. The moment of pause was perfect. His lips parted, his chest heaving as he held himself still, Kirley looked down at Myron, eyes dragging over him from his bent head to his arse. And in the midst of heated arousal and the fogged haze of having his cock buried inside Myron, Kirley had a flash of clarity. He never wanted to give this up. It flickered through his mind, right in front of his eyes, as he looked down at Myron’s back, and then went as Myron wriggled against him. Kirley’s fingers tightened their grip on Myron’s hips and he let out a growl.
He couldn’t hold still any longer. He needed to fuck Myron. Now. He needed to hear him, wanted to drag sounds out of him like he knew he could. Kirley started to rock in and out of him, cursing under his breath at the feel of Myron clenching around his cock, building up force and speed until he was thrusting hard with sharp snaps of his hips, muscles contracting, and pressing Myron’s cock rhythmically against the front surface of the counter.
“Let me hear you.” He ground out through grunts and breathless groans as their bodies collided together.
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The friction of his cock being pressed against the counter, rubbing back and forth with each thrust, was driving Myron crazy. He was moaning, but not loudly yet, not until he heard Kirley's words and felt the hot curl of arousal in his belly, causing him to clench tighter around him. "Fuuuck," he groaned, louder this time, but he was only just getting started. "Harder." He was pushing back, impaling himself on Kirley's cock, moaning at the slide of that hard length pushing into him, opening him up. Myron's eyes had closed, his entire world narrowing to this moment, to these feelings, and this man. His body was hot and flushed, taut and desperate to be pushed over the edge.
His cock was begging for attention, dribbling pre-come onto the counter and so hard Myron felt he might burst at any moment. Unclenching his hands, he reached down with one to wrap his fingers around his cock, sucking in a shaky breath as his fingers curled around his aching length.
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The change in Myron’s voice, from moans to outright groans and begging made Kirley’s hands tighten reflexively on Myron’s hips. Fuck. He loved hearing Myron during sex. Loved knowing exactly what he was doing to him. He groaned, throwing restraint away at Myron’s request, and fucking him with a force that was nearly bruising. And then Myron had to move his hand. Kirley’s half shut eyes caught it and without halting his driving, relentless fucking, he bent forward against Myron’s back and caught his wrist in one hand. “No.” He growled quietly near Myron’s ear, dragging his hand back up to the counter and planting it next to the other.
Bent forward against Myron’s back, Kirley propped one hand next to Myron’s shoulder and lowered the other down to where he was forcing Myron’s cock to rub against the front of the counter. Wrapping his hand firmly around him, Kirley started stroking him, rubbing his thumb in the pre-come and twisting his wrist a little, while he continued to pound into his arse relentlessly. The way Myron felt, his tight arse clenching around Kirley’s cock as Kirley fucked him, was heavenly. And Kirley wanted to make him come. Hard. And with Kirley’s name on his lips.
His own release was moments away, the tell tale signs rippling through him. But he wanted to make it last. Wanted his cock buried inside Myron for as long as he could.
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FUCK. A shiver of delight spread through him at the sound of Kirley growling in his ear, even if he did only get two seconds of pleasurable fingers around his cock. With his hand moved away, Myron clasped his hands together once more, to keep himself from trying to touch again, and cried out as the relentless thrusting found his prostate, sending sharp bursts of pleasure rocketing through him. He was so close, so desperately painfully close. He just needed a little bit more. "Please," he begged, his voice as strained as his body. "Kirley."
Gasping, he felt a jolt as Kirley's hand wrapped around him, and let out almost a sob of pleasure as Kirley continued to fuck him and stroke him at the same time. As he pushed back onto Kirley's cock, he then thrust forward into Kirley's hand, overwhelmed with how good it felt to go from one to the other and then back again. "Kirley," he moaned, barely able to stand how fucking amazing this was. "Kirley, Kirley, Kirley." As he uttered Kirley's name one last time, Myron came undone beneath Kirley, crying out raggedly as he shattered, coming on top of the counter, his body shuddering against Kirley, rhythmically clenching around his cock as spasms of pleasure rushed through him over and over again until finally, all he could do was collapse down on the counter, in the puddle of his own come, breathing hard and trembling with the intensity of it.
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He was so close. So close. Kirley’s head tipped back, his lips parted and panting in rhythm with his rapid thrusts, his eyes nearly closed, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. His hand stroked Myron firmly, the force of his thrusts driving Myron’s cock into his hand. And then Myron was moaning his name over and over again, his voice rising as he completely came apart underneath him, clenching hard around his cock. Kirley wasn’t sure he’d ever heard anything so fucking amazing as Myron moaning his name while Kirley made him come. Or seen anything like Myron shattering around him, his come all over the counter. Fuck. It never lost its power, even after fifteen years. Kirley groaned wordlessly, his back arching and his grip on Myron’s cock faltering as he couldn’t hold off any longer.
The way Myron was clenching around him sent him over the edge, and he gave into it, the muscles in his body shaking as he came hard, emptying himself into Myron and letting out a ragged noise that was mostly incoherent, his mind one jumbled stream of swear words and a single name. When he could remember his own name again, he was collapsed forward against the counter, Myron pressed underneath him, chest heaving. He slowly lifted himself off of Myron’s back so that he wasn’t crushing him, and leaned his head down against Myron’s shoulder, pressing a few soft, exhausted kisses to the skin he could touch.
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Myron was breathing hard as he lay against the counter, enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure that jolted through him, making him jump each time Kirley thrust into him until at last, Kirley came deep inside him. He couldn't move, and didn't care that Kirley had collapsed on top of him, though he did notice the difference when Kirley moved. This was the worst part of doing this here. He couldn't curl up with Kirley here and fall asleep. He had to move, to get up off the counter and walk, possibly shower if he could be bothered, before he could fall into bed.
Fuck, it had been hot though. Myron loved it when Kirley took over like that, taking him then and there, in the kitchen. It was even worth the housekeepers they'd lost over the years. Lips were pressed to his shoulder, and Myron lifted his head to turn towards Kirley, smiling wearily as he pushed himself up off the counter, his own come dripping down his stomach. Ignoring that for now, he reached out and slid his hand into Kirley's hair to pull him in for a kiss. No words were necessary. They'd just said everything they needed to say to each other.
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One of the things he loved about sharing a house with Myron was that he didn’t have to be discreet. Kirley was private enough outside and with pretty much everyone else, inside with Myron he liked being able to just bend him over the counter and make him scream when he felt like it. Of course, there were some consequences to that. One of which was a definite high turnover of housekeepers. And the other was the sometimes messy afterwards. In the moment, Kirley didn’t give a fuck about all of that. His mind was otherwise occupied. And so was his mouth. He gently wrapped a hand around the back of Myron’s neck, his thumb stroking soft patterns against his skin as they kissed.
His muscles were still shaky, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to migrating from the kitchen, not to mention his jeans and pants were still around his ankles. Pulling back a little, he smiled slowly and pressed a few more soft kisses to Myron’s mouth as he stepped out of his jeans.
“Shower?” He suggested quietly, his voice still rough.
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It was times like this that Myron regretted moving into larger and larger flats. The tiny flat they'd originally moved into all those years ago would have taken only a handful of steps to reach the bed. This flat was much larger, which Myron usually enjoyed (especially as a status symbol of their success) except when it entailed a long journey to the bedroom. A few soft, drugging kisses later and Myron realised he should take off his jeans too, lest he trip over them on his way to bed. Looking down at his messy stomach as he pulled his jeans off, he smirked. "Yeah, that would probably be a good idea, unless you want this smeared all over your bed."
Dragging two fingers through the fluid on his stomach, Myron licked first one clean, then the other, his eyes on Kirley's, watching his reaction closely, a weary yet still playful expression on his face.
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“Yeah, let’s not get that all over my bed.” Kirley’s grin was tired, completely satisfied and a little smug. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have minded having Myron’s come all over his bed. Although he wasn’t too sure why he felt that way. As long as it got cleaned up afterwards, for which magic was wonderfully handy. Taking a small step forward, and propping one hand on either side of Myron against the counter, his eyes followed Myron’s fingers, his lips parting slightly and his eyes darkening a little. Fuck. Myron was trying to kill him.
Kirley’s hazel eyes darted up from Myron’s mouth to his eyes, and his lips curved into a small smirk. “Tease,” he said, his voice gravelly and a little rough. Tilting his head to the side, his tired smirk turned playful. “We could just skip the shower.” Two could play at this game. Bending forward and down, he licked a stripe across Myron’s ribs, leaning back slowly and licking his lips.
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Myron drew in a shuddering breath as Kirley's tongue was dragged across his skin. His hand had fallen to curl around one of Kirley's wrists, fingers rubbing lightly over the pulse point there, his breath catching at the pure eroticism of the moment. Two could play at that game alright. He and Kirley were about evenly matched when it came to teasing each other. Admittedly, Myron had a few extreme tastes that he was pretty sure Kirley didn't share, but that never seemed to matter. Kirley gave him what he needed, and that was all that mattered.
"If you want to lick me clean, go right ahead," Myron replied, voice laden with tired amusement, his gaze expectant, but before Kirley could make a move in either direction, Myron's free hand shot out to drag him into a heated kiss, their tongues tangling together, sharing the taste of Myron between them. Anyone who was with Myron had to be prepared for things like this. Myron had no problem at all with bodily fluids of any kind, and loved nothing more than licking his own come out of the person he'd just fucked.
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This teasing game they were playing was a familiar one, one that never got boring. Kirley’s breath caught a little as Myron’s fingers played with the pulse point on his wrist, and at Myron’s suggestion, his lips curved up in a slow, tired smirk that disappeared beneath Myron’s mouth before he had a chance to respond at all. He leaned forward into it, his hands gripping the counter tighter, and his tongue entwining with Myron’s and soaking up the taste of him. He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and sending one heated, teasing smile at Myron he bent down and took his suggestion literally.
His mouth and tongue moved over Myron’s skin, licking up all the evidence on his body of what had just happened. Kirley grinned a little, sliding down Myron’s body, and lowering himself down to his knees as his mouth moved lower and lower on his stomach. He didn’t mind this method of clean up much at all really.
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Myron drew in a breath at the touch of Kirley's tongue, watching with heated eyes as Kirley licked every drop off his body. He hadn't been sure whether Kirley would take him up on his suggestion or drag him off to shower, but either option sounded good to Myron. His hands found the edge of the counter and he gripped it tightly as that deliciously long tongue slid across his skin. A soft groan slipped from Myron's lips, head tilting back as he gave himself over to the soft lapping of Kirley's tongue, moving lower and lower until finally he was cleaning Myron's cock. It was far too soon for him to get hard again, more's the pity, and he was still rather sensitive after his last orgasm, but oh it still felt good.
When Kirley finally drew back, Myron's fingers dug into Kirley's hair and tugged him back up so he could kiss him again, the taste much stronger this time and when coming direct from Kirley's tongue, so much sweeter. "Still want that shower, or can we go to bed now?" he murmured against Kirley's lips in between kisses. This was one of the perks of being a rockstar. It was the middle of the day, and they could fuck and go nap without it being a problem that it was a week day.
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Kirley was thorough. And he enjoyed the sounds Myron was quietly making as Kirley licked him clean, his tongue gently stroking and sucking around Myron’s cock until he was satisfied that he’d gotten every last drop. Drawing back slowly and resting on his heels, he licked his lips in satisfaction, and grinned as Myron gripped his hair and pulled him upright and against his body, their mouths connecting and tongues tangling, Myron’s taste mixing between them.
“Bed.” Kirley murmured against Myron’s mouth, answering him in the shortest way possible. He didn’t have the energy for a shower, and a midday nap sounded pretty tempting. Pulling away slowly, he grinned down at Myron and tugged him forward and away from the counter. Slinging one arm around Myron’s neck, Kirley pulled him into his side and started the long walk to his bedroom. Although considering how much time Myron spent in it, he wasn’t sure that it still qualified as entirely his.
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Leaving their clothes and the mess on the counter for the housekeeper to deal with (she deserved it, in Myron's opinion) the pair of them wandered through the house to Kirley's room. Myron had been meaning to ask why they ended up in Kirley's room more often than not, but couldn't be fucked asking right now. Flopping onto what had become his side of Kirley's bed, Myron shuffled around a bit until he got comfortable, but didn't truly settle until Kirley was beside him and his leg had shifted until it was in contact with Kirley. Huffing out a breath as he relaxed, Myron smiled as his eyes closed. He fucking LOVED being a rock star.