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“if you keep making those noises, everyone in the galaxy is going to hear you.”
hushed words said through grit teeth, welt’s breath leaving goosebumps along sunday’s skin. sunday tasted like a dessert he couldn’t quite place. one that he’d have to keep trying until the day he died to figure out.
an addictive sugary mess, that’s exactly what sunday was.
it didn’t start like this, but it seemed to always end this way. tangled legs and elated gasps hushed by a tongue down his throat. welt kissed like he was conducting an orchestra, tongue corralling sunday’s throat to rumble beautiful music and all welt wanted to do was make the little bird sing.
and sing he did.
soft coos erupting from him with each drag of welt's fingers along his burning skin. and that's exactly how it felt when he was with welt, like he was on fire. melting from the inside until he was stripped bare, hands pressed above his head, locked there until welt decides to release him from his cage. and if it was up to him, he'd swallow the key just like he swallowed whatever else welt gave him.
welt became a different person when the lights were down low, the calm, composed mentor turns into someone sunday almost fears with an animalistic glint in his eyes. almost.
"d-da--," sunday couldn't even finish the cry, licking his lips as two fingers shove down his throat. and sunday sucked diligently, like it was the first drop of water in an oasis, getting lost in the sounds of his tongue slipping between the fingers chasing the taste.
he would've sunk into it too, he could suck welt's fingers for hours, rolling them around every orifice of his mouth because they just tasted so good. he would've stayed there all night if it wasn't for the flick of something wet against his nipple. suckling, licking, nibbling, welt was ravenous against the sensitive pink nub and sunday could already feel tears prickling the corner of his eyes.
for someone who wanted sunday to remain quiet, it's kind of unfair for him to pay so much attention to one of sunday's most sensitive parts. each stroke felt like electricity jolting through his body, little static shocks of pleasure and if he could move his arms, he'd surely be digging his fingers into the older's hair.
and welt is ravenous, moving down the other's torso, his wet muscle trailing every inch leaving behind a wet trail. his eyes said that he wanted to devour sunday, his hands said he wanted to lock him in a cage and fuck him until he forgot his name. sunday would never be able to look him in the eyes and tell him he wanted both.
he's sure welt knew that he did.
if the obscenely loud gasp sunday made when welt swipes his tongue against sunday's slit was enough to tell him everything he needed to know. even sunday's precum tasted sweet, a little sour, like an unripened fruit but welt was sure to bring him to maturity.
he removes his fingers from the younger's mouth because it wasn't doing much to keep him silent and welt had bigger plans for them. sunday squirms in anticipation when he feels a warm wet finger trace his hole and he almost screams when instead of it pushing it, it's replaced by that same tongue previously exploring his torso.
it traces his rim, slow and teasingly, driving sunday insane. his legs are already shaking and his eyes are struggling to stay open and its only his tongue. this isn't their first time but sunday is certain he'll never get used to how expertly welt maneuvers the muscle to prod open his tight hole and get a taste of what's been his' all along.
"p-please..." sunday almost begs and welt has to stop himself from cracking a smirk. sometimes sunday was just so easy.
"hmm?" he hums against the other's hole, sending vibrations that force another moan out of sunday.
"p-please...just...please fuck me."
and how could welt say no to that pretty, broken voice.
he takes no time to swap his tongue out with two fingers, shoving them directly inside the younger and occupying his tongue with the other's mouth instead. kissing him like he was trying to melt into one, fingers pumping ferociously into him. slick and wet noises echoing the singing being hushed by the exchange of saliva. a string of spit between them each time they parted for a breath, a brief moment from drinking each other.
they could do this for hours, or would've if sunday hadn't looked at welt like that. hadn't called welt daddy like that. if sunday didn't walk around with an energy that demanded the vilest things to be done to him.
"cock," sunday didn't even know what he was saying, blubbering his words through fast breaths. "n-need..."
welt understood, he always seemed to.
welt sits back, removing his fingers but not without a whine of protest from sunday. he just felt so empty. but that was short lived as the head of welt's cock traced his hole, mimicking the actions of his very own tongue earlier. he pushes in gently, but only the head, almost painfully slow, like he was playing with his food.
"fuck please, fuck me holy shit, please please please, i can't take this anymo--."
if someone passing welt's room didn't know what was going on before, they certainly do after the noise that rattled the room. a shriek of ecstacy as welt sunk deep inside him, stretching his hole and giving him that familiar burn that he was desperate for.
sunday was a wreck by the first thrust, mouth agape, eyes rolled back. if welt didn't have his hands caged above his head, he's sure he would've ripped the sheets off with his claws with the way his back arched off the bed.
"shh, shh, that's it. be a good boy, yeah," welt whispers in his ear causing him to shudder once more.
it was so...dirty.
the way sunday contorted his body was so...dirty.
welt loved it, loved that he was the only one to see sunday like this. loved that he was the only one that could break sunday down like this. loved that it really only took a single look for sunday to know his place.
welt barely gave sunday time to adjust before slamming into him again, using one hand to keep sunday's hands in place, and the other to return fingers to the boy's yearning mouth. he looked like he needed something to suck on and if someone were to take a picture right now, they'd think sunday was an experienced porn star.
sunday could feel himself bubbling over, so quickly from all the stimulation. he all but panted against welt's fingers, eyes hooded and telling welt exactly how close he was. though the look didn't do much when cum shoots from sunday's cock embarrassingly quick, covering his torso with a cry. tears of pleasure freely falling down his cheeks.
"so soon, little bird? that's kind of pathetic."
sunday feels so dirty because he's hard again and he knows exactly why.
welt picks up his pace, wanting to send sunday over the edge again, and again, until sunday is nothing but a twitching mess filled with cum splayed on the bed. he wanted to fuck sunday until he passed out and the fuck him awake again. he wanted to see the light leave sunday's eyes as he chokes him out, only to bring the breath of life back to him.
images of sunday crawling to him on all fours, pleading and begging for a taste of his cock. slobbering until its dripping and he supposes that was enough to send him over the edge too as he spills his cum deep inside. so deep he might've even gotten sunday pregnant and with a grunt, sunday is spilling his load all over again, albeit not nearly as much as welt but he makes it up for the continuous high keens he emits over and over again.
welt's face hovers over sunday's as they catch their breath, knowing that it was only moments before round tw--
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
the look of panic in sunday's eyes was undescribable, barely having enough energy to push welt off of him as they scramble to clothe themselves again.
"fuck, fuck, fuck, are we fucking serious." sunday whisper-shouts. sunday just became comfortable with cursing if it wasn't obvious enough.
they're dressed and just out the door when sunday feels it. warm, slimy, and comforting in any other moment but now. he's pacing to the parlor car as it leaks out of his hole and down his leg and sunday feels like he wants to die.
"...did you guys switch scarves?"
his spiral is cut off by stelle's question, hand under her chin with a quirk of her head as if she's discovered something remarkable.
"yeah, no i'm certain that's welt's scarf." caelus joins in circling the two like they're on trial.
"don't mind that, sunday was just cold,” welt says confidently, certain that this explanation will suffice.
"sunny, what's that white stuff?"