Chapter Text
Every single time, Clive was sure the chair was going to break.
"That's it, c'mon, I know you can do better than that," Cid encouraged, breathless and eager beneath him. Clive made a soft sound, a mix of aggravation and pleasure as his hips continued move. He ground down onto Cid's cock and squeezed him tight in retaliation for his comment. The sound that Cid made was more than worth it: a choked off whine as the man arched–or, tried to, at least.
"And I know you can sit back and let me work," Clive growled back, grunting with effort. His thighs trembled as he tried to find the perfect spot for his feet, trying to get the leverage he wanted, needed to have. His hands dig into Cid's shoulders, the leather of the older man's jacket creaking in his hold.
Finally, he found purchase. He raised himself up, then dropped back down onto Cid's cock, making them both moan. Panting, Clive found a rhythm. His thighs burned with the effort, his feet were sore from dragging across the stone, and sweat dripped down along his bare spine. But the small discomforts were nothing in comparison to the feeling of Cid's cock opening him up, pressing into all those places inside him that lit him up like nothing else.
Beneath Cid, the chair creaked ominously, but held under Clive's onslaught. For now.
Cid's hips twitched, trying to drive his cock even deeper into Clive's needy hole, but Clive stopped completely. He hated it; his cock ached, the pleasure was just starting to properly build, and he'd managed to find a good rhythm. But some people just didn't seem to learn. It meant he had to punish them both.
"I told you to be still," he bit out. He even added a real bite: he leaned in and nipped sharply at Cid's bottom lip, drawing blood. Cid whimpered and dug his hands into Clive's hips. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Clive could feel him trembling with the effort of following Clive's command. He sighs softly and acknowledges that effort with a soothing kiss to the wound he'd left. "I know you're trying, and you're doing so good for me, but you need to let me do the work, Cid. Let me take care of you after such a hard day."
Cid groaned and pressed his face into the crook of Clive's neck and bit down hard. Clive cried out and his hips jerked. It was his turn to tremble, clenched tight around Cid's cock. He could feel it pulse inside him, could feel his own cock ache and twitch, smearing pre-cum across Cid's shirt. But Cid didn't stop there, the asshole. He started sucking at the spot, then laving it with his tongue. Clive has no idea if the man broke skin or not, but the sensation of the pain, the sting of it, drove him closer to the edge.
Panting, his hips shifted and rolled, hard and fast. He ground down on the thick length inside him, his ass causing the leather of Cid's trousers to squeak.
The chair gave another warning creak, this one a little louder.
"Fuck, you fucking asshole," Clive whined, gripping at Cid tight as he moved onto the next spot, this one on Clive's shoulder, right into the meat of it. He wailed at the feeling of teeth digging into his skin, trembling, and with one final grind, he came. Ropes of thick, white spend painted over Cid's shirt, and smeared against his bare abs as he continued to move and shift restlessly, chasing those last few sparks of pleasure.
With a particularly hard jerk, there was a crack, a creak, and then the chair was tipping backwards. They both yelped and grabbed at each other, Cid wrapping his arms around Clive to hold onto him, and Clive tried to keep Cid's head from cracking on the stone they fell to. Somehow, through it all, Cid's cock remained hard and pressed up into Clive. There was a moment of silence before Cid started laughing, hips twitching as he did.
"Well, that's certainly one way to taking care of me, I guess."