Re: Billy K/Jamie M: the Mayers apartment
There was like, a whole lot of reasons Jamie had liked back-rooms and the bathrooms in clubs. It was easier? It was a whole lot cleaner - as in, short and to the point and zero investment in the other guy, not the cleanliness of the fuck, which as a rule, bathrooms, not - and it was like eating fast-food. Scratched an itch, filled an appetite, whatever. But he wasn't eating trash rn. Billy's grin unspooled as the guy reeled up and into him in a clash of shoulder and sternum and Jamie got an arm around his back, his hand pressed hot as a brand against the guy's lower back. There was a whole lot of like, blood-rush downward right now and his jeans were getting kind of shrink-wrapped around his cock but there was something a whole lot hotter about eating down the guy's noise until he was quiet than getting any kind of pressure on his dick. CURRENTLY.
"You're cute," Jamie said, a little loopy on watching the guy suffuse with color, the pinked skin where his mouth had been, and chaining more of the same - lips, teeth, pressure and heat until his throat was like, rosy with it. "Like, you have no idea." And it wasn't like, enough to hear Billy's breath in his ear, ghosting wet on his cheek, he let his weight kind of sink onto the guy, mostly with one knee taking the rest and palmed over his cock through cotton and thumbed the outline. "And I sorta want to make you yell. Sorry, not sorry?" He offered, with a grin kind of blurred on arousal, and kissed the guy again until his teeth clacked while he rubbed pressure with the heel of his palm.