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Healy slammed March back against the bedroom door, hands fisted into the lapels of his jacket and crashed their lips together in a desperate kiss.
He'd been watching March flirt with their clients all day and it had admittedly riled him up. He felt strangely possessive over the younger man, had never felt like that for anyone else before, not even his ex-wife. Healy sometimes wanted to lock March up and keep him all to himself. That thought scared him a little, but he couldn't dwell on this for long. His mind very quickly went blank, wiped of any unnecessary thoughts when March softly whimpered.
Healy growled—he couldn't help it, how was this pathetic man getting under his skin like that and slowly driving him insane?—and bit down hard on March's lip, tugging on it.
"H-Healy—" March moaned, clutching at his chest in an attempt to regain his balance.
"Shut up," Healy snapped and kissed him again; March talked too much.
Healy roughly shoved his tongue into March's mouth and March obediently sucked on it, causing Healy to groan.
He let go of March's jacket in favour of pulling his tie loose and throwing it to the floor.
Healy quickly moved on to unbutton his shirt, nipping along March's jaw. The stubble there tickled him but Healy didn't mind, the way March was breathing heavily and squirming under his touch was well worth it.
March shrugged out of his jacket, Healy pushing his shirt off his shoulders shortly after.
March practically whined as Healy licked a wet stripe up the column of his neck. Healy was overcome by the sudden urge to sink his teeth into March's creamy skin and so he did, because he could. March flinched as Healy bit down hard on his shoulder, soothing the ache by dragging the flat of his tongue over the indents.
"Healy, come on, you're killing me here," March complained and Healy couldn't help but grin when he looked down at the very obvious tent in March's slacks.
He licked back up to March's neck and begun sucking hickeys into his skin, the red and purple blooming beautifully on the unmarred expanse of his throat. March—ever the impatient guy—tried to take Healy's jacket off and for once Healy just let him. As soon as it was off, he moved his hands to March's stupidly small waist, grabbing onto it with more force than strictly necessary.
March threw his head back against the door with a dull thud, burying his hands in Healy's hair as he made a complete mess of March's neck.
March distantly wondered how he'd cover those marks up tomorrow, but he found that he really didn't care that much if other people saw. Not like anybody held him in particularly high regard anyway.
Healy pulled back and March made a petulant little noise at the loss of warmth against his neck, but Healy quickly shut him up with another kiss.
He grabbed for one of March's hands and pulled it down to his crotch, pressing it against the growing bulge there.
"See what you do to me? You infuriate me to no end, and yet," Healy panted against March's lips and March just stared at him with wide, glinting eyes.
God, Healy wanted to fucking ruin him. He shoved his thigh in between March's, who promptly started to rut against it, just like a bitch in heat. Healy could feel his cock even through two layers of fabric and moaned.
Out of all the people in the world, why'd he have to fall for this moron? He couldn't even tell him that, could only insult March in some twisted display of affection.
"God, you're so pathetic," he rasped and March didn't even deny it, just desperately rode Healy's thigh in an attempt to take some of the edge off. At this rate March wouldn't last, Healy knew, and he couldn't have that.
So Healy pulled back his leg, leaving March to stare at him indignantly.
"What the fuck is your problem, man?" March bitched. Healy shot him an innocent smile before pushing him down onto his knees. They had done this so many times by now, March just went along with it, no questions asked.
"You look so much better on your knees," Healy purred and roughly grabbed March by the hair, rubbing his crotch into his face.
March moaned and grabbed onto the backs of Healy's knees for support. Healy didn't even have to keep his head there, March was just happily nuzzling his cock through his jeans. Healy had to stifle a moan.
March looked up at him with his big, round blue eyes and Healy thought he needed to make this man cry.
"Are you that desperate to suck my cock? And you dare to call other people sluts," Healy said.
March's eyes widened momentarily, but he didn't even let out an outraged huff, nothing. His flushed cheeks only turned even pinker. Healy thought he looked lovely like this; hair dishevelled, eyes glassy and a blush spreading all the way down the back of his neck.
Healy's eyes landed on the marks he had left on March's neck and he dug his thumb into the darkest one, pressing down as hard as he could. He felt March's breath catch beneath his touch, could feel his pulse thrumming underneath his skin. March never looked away, their gazes locked. The air around them felt charged, static crackling between them and it made even more heat pool in Healy's groin.
They were so different, yet inexplicably connected. It drove Healy absolutely insane.
"Are you just going to sit there all day? Get to work," Healy murmured. The hoarseness of his voice wasn't lost on him, but neither of them really seemed to care when March immediately broke out of his stupor and tried to unbuckle Healy's pants with clumsy, shaking hands.
It took a few attempts, but soon enough Healy's jeans were pooling around his ankles. His boxers weren't far behind. Healy hissed as his aching cock was met with cool air. It was already leaking, precum beading at the tip. Perhaps he was just as pathetic and desperate as March after all.
March immediately grabbed for his cock, wrapping his slender fingers around the thick base.
He writhed around on the floor, clearly trying to get any friction against his own cock that he could. Healy clicked his tongue and March immediately stilled. It made Healy feel almost delirious—the knowledge that he held some sort of power over Holland March, the man who ran away from anything and anyone. Except for him, for some godforsaken reason.
"You look like you're ready to tear into me. It's sexy," March breathed and Healy nearly choked on his own spit. Then he remembered that March—in typical March fashion—had had quite a few drinks. No wonder his mouth was a little looser than usual.
"There are better uses for that mouth of yours than running in," Healy groused and gripped March's hair again, tugging on it rather harshly.
March let out a high-pitched moan. Healy's cock very obviously throbbed at the sound and March gave him a cocky grin when he noticed, those pretty pink lips of his stretching over his infuriatingly white teeth. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to Healy.
Healy—now mildly enraged—shoved his cock right against those soft, perfect lips, smearing precum on them like lip gloss. March made him feel like a horny teenager all over again. He'd wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his face.
"You think me sucking you off will shut me up? Who knows, maybe I'm a ventriloquist," March joked. Healy rolled his eyes.
"I thought you hated those," he replied. Why the fuck were they even talking about this when March was about to blow him?
Healy yanked on his hair even harder, urging him to get on with it. He wanted to cover March's stupidly handsome face with his cum, but for tonight he had other plans.
March opened his mouth in another moan and Healy took the opportunity, shoving his cock into the deliciously warm opening.
March flinched but very quickly went along with it, dragging his hot, velvety tongue along the underside of Healy's cock.
March's hands found Healy's ass, grabbing onto his glutes and squeezing, urging Healy deeper down his throat.
"Fuck," Healy swore as March's tight throat welcomed his thick cock in. March still struggled to take him all the way down like this, his throat spasming and constricting around the intrusion, but he didn't let that deter him.
Before long, he had swallowed Healy all the way down to the root, burying his nose in the coarse hair at his pubic bone.
Healy pushed him down as far as he could, raking his blunt fingernails over March's scalp. March shivered and whined, the vibrations sending sharp spikes of pleasure up Healy's spine.
"Your throat is ridiculous. Why does it feel like you were made for this?" Healy hissed. He moved one hand to the side of March's neck and dragged his thumb along the front of his throat, over his Adam's apple and the protrusion made by his cock. Being able to feel himself seated inside of March like that made his head spin a little. His blood felt like it was boiling and he was suddenly feeling much too hot, so he quickly stripped out of his shirt.
March hummed but didn't move, almost like he was happy just sitting there, warming Healy's cock for him.
A tempting prospect, but not what Healy had in mind for tonight, either.
He adjusted his hold, grabbing onto the back of March's skull, before he pulled his hips back, cock sliding most of the way out. He could hear March sucking in a hungry breath before he slammed himself right back down March's throat.
March's grip on his rear tightened and he pawed at Healy's ass and thighs, trying to get a proper hold as Healy started to fuck his throat with abandon. The squelching and slapping echoing throughout the room were positively filthy.
March was trembling underneath him but Healy didn't care; he was chasing his own pleasure, and what a quick chase it was.
It didn't take long for him to hurtle towards his peak, helped along by the copious amounts of drool and the occasional drag of teeth when March struggled to keep his jaw open wide enough.
As much as Healy wanted to come down March's throat, he couldn't. He wasn't that young anymore, couldn't go multiple rounds back to back these days, and so he had to set priorities.
And tonight his priority was finally making March come on his cock. So Healy pulled March off his cock without warning. March was left wide-eyed and gasping for air, snot and drool and tears running down his pretty face, catching on his moustache.
He looked positively debauched and Healy couldn't help but bend down and pull him into another heated kiss. The sight of March with tears streaming down his face went straight to Healy's cock.
Healy could taste himself on March's tongue and March mewled, holding onto Healy's shoulders as his body suddenly went taught and he spilled inside his pants with a shuddering gasp.
Healy pulled back with a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"Really?" he asked, incredulous as he looked down at March's shuddering figure.
"Sorry, I, ah—" March begun, his voice hoarse from getting his throat fucked.
"I can't believe you, you're so easy," Healy huffed, but he couldn't keep that wretched bit of fondness from bleeding through his words.
He effortlessly pulled March up onto his shaky legs and dragged him over to the bed, getting him to sit on the edge of it.
"Sorry," March said again, looking off to the side as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.
Was he seriously ashamed of himself for this? Of all the shit he's ever done, this was what did it?
"Stop saying that," Healy demanded and made quick work of getting March out of his soiled slacks and boxers.
Healy went over to the bedside table and grabbed the lube from where he knew it was inside the drawer, then knelt down before March and parted his thighs, scooting as close as he could get.
"Tonight," he begun as he surveyed the mess covering March's cock and groin, "I finally wanted to make you come on my cock. Is that fine with you?"
Despite all their bitching and arguing and the rough way in which Healy tended to handle March, he still wanted March to explicitly agree to this idea. It wasn't anything Healy had ever done before; he had no idea what he was supposed to do, was just making things up as he went. But he knew he wanted this to happen with March and nobody else. Being candid and open about their feelings wasn't really their style, Healy knew that well enough, but still he needed to know March wanted this too, just as much as he did.
Healy looked up at March, waiting for an answer. He wasn't a patient man by any means, but just this once he could try to be.
March simply looked at him for a few short moments, still a little dazed, before he broke into that easy, provocative grin again.
"Has the old man finally decided to go to the next base? I thought you'd never ask," March said and bent down to kiss Healy again. This kiss was just as filthy as the rest; March ran his tongue along the seam of Healy's lips and Healy readily gave him the access he clearly wanted, swallowing down March's little pleasured groans.
"What I mean is," March whispered, momentarily breaking contact before diving right back in, "fuck yes."
Healy groaned, digging his fingers into March's ribs.
"Good," Healy said and made a half-hearted effort to get March out of his undershirt as he kicked his pants off from where they were still hanging onto his ankles. He was a little reluctant to part from March for long enough to get it off, but with their combined efforts they managed.
Healy had never thought kissing another man could feel quite like this, electrifying and dizzying at once. He had expected it to be weird, feeling someone else's scruffy beard against his skin, but it wasn't weird at all. Instead every scrape of March's stubble against him sent tingles down his spine. It wasn't unpleasant; it was quite frankly driving him mad with desire.
With the undershirt out of the way, Healy pressed March back into the mattress and kissed his way down his body, right past the wedding ring still resting against March's heart. Healy sucked more hickeys into the skin just above his collar bones, on top of his ribs, his stomach.
He spent some extra time servicing March's nipples, sucked them into his mouth and nibbled on them. The fluffy hair on March's chest tickled his nose and Healy had to fight back a sneeze, not wanting to ruin the moment,
March moaned, loud and unabashed, and fisted his hands into Healy's hair, keeping him there.
Who was Healy to deny him? He bit down on March's nipples harder and tugged on them, making him writhe beneath him and rut into the air.
"Healy—" March whimpered and Healy grinned against his heated skin, dragging the flat of his tongue over one swollen bud while he twisted the other between calloused fingers. He made sure to drag his beard over the sensitive peaks, sure that March would enjoy the rough sensation. Another moan ripped from March's throat, broken and needy, proving him right. Healy grinned.
"You like that, huh," he hummed as he finally pulled off March's nipples with a wet pop.
"Please," March begged, for what exactly Healy wasn't sure. Still he continued his journey south, leaving more little bites and bruises on March's jutting hip bones, on his v-line. He was achingly close to March's cock now, could feel the heat radiating off it. Healy licked the skin just above it, tasting salty sweat and some of March's spend. He groaned and March tried angling his hips so he could rub his cock in Healy's face.
Healy wasn't having any of it. He grabbed onto March's waist and held him down against the mattress, preventing him from moving.
"Behave yourself," he warned and March let out another loud moan. Healy almost preened; he loved seeing the effect he had on March, loved how easily he could manhandle him and just how much March obviously loved it. This was almost better than drugs.
At long last Healy finally came face to face with March's spent cock. It was already starting to swell again, no doubt thanks to March still being young. How on earth he managed to be so healthy for a chain-smoking alcoholic was beyond Healy.
He blew on March's cock, his hot breath causing March to shudder.
"Healy, Christ, please," March whined and Healy almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
March let out a frustrated grunt when Healy went right past his cock and straight to his thighs instead.
Healy had been fantasising about those ever since he'd seen March with his pants down at the bowling alley on their second day of knowing each other.
He buried his face against the inside of March's right thigh, nosing the sensitive flesh, before he sank his teeth into it, biting down as hard as he could.
March mewled, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles went white. Healy could hear him curse under his breath. Then Healy did it again and again, then repeated it on March's other thigh.
When he leaned back he admired his work. The bite marks were red and angry, standing out against March's pale skin. Next time Healy would bite down even harder, try to draw blood. He was sure March would love that. Little slut.
"Maybe now people will keep their hands off of you," he huffed, that strange possessiveness flaring up inside of his chest again.
March made him feel untethered and insane; he drove him mad with the desire to smother him and hug him until his ribs cracked and splintered and the need to force him to be better for both himself and for Holly. Healy wanted to simultaneously ruin him beyond repair and fix him, make him whole again.
"Are you jealous?" March asked him, a little incredulous. His shocked expression was somewhat softened by the pretty flush on his cheekbones and the look in his eyes that was probably saying something like "just get on with it already and fuck me." Oh, Healy would fuck him alright.
"You drive me insane," Healy said. Then he finally, at long last, took hold of March's cock.
March instantly thrust up into his fist and Healy pressed him back down onto the bed with a hand on his stomach.
"What did I say about behaving yourself?" he snapped. March didn't move again after, though Healy could tell it took him a lot of effort.
"Good," Healy praised. Then he got to work cleaning up March's cock. He licked the now cold cum off it, gagging slightly at the taste.
He wasn't very practised at blowjobs yet, so he stuck to dragging his tongue up the vein on the underside. He sucked on the head, digging the tip of his tongue into the slit and lapped up the precum already gathering there again.
When Healy was satisfied that March wasn't going to move, he let go of his stomach. He picked up the bottle of lube from where he had left it on the floor and squeezed some of it onto his fingers, warming it up by rubbing them together.
March went stiff when Healy rubbed the pad of his middle finger against the furled rim of March's asshole.
"I've never done this before," March squeaked but held still.
"Great, me neither," Healy said as he paused his cleaning efforts. Then he slowly pushed his finger inside of March.
Christ, he was tight.
March sucked in a nervous breath and tried to relax, to no real success. Healy returned to suckling on March's cock, rubbing what he hoped were soothing circles just above March's hip bone with his free hand.
Healy gently rocked his finger in and out, working it in a little deeper with each thrust.
"Haah, this feels weird," March complained. Healy looked up to see he had thrown an arm across his face, hiding his expression.
Soon his entire finger was inside of March. "You alright?" he asked and March nodded.
Healy rubbed his index finger against March's rim, then attempted to push it inside as well. It took a lot more force than the first, the fit even tighter now. March was obviously starting to get nervous, his breaths were coming faster now and he squirmed around quite a bit.
"Need me to stop?" Healy asked, a little concerned. Sure, he wanted to get his dick wet, but he did care about March's comfort too. Just a little.
"It's fine," March assured him, sounding a little panicked. Healy shrugged and pushed his second finger in deeper, up to the second knuckle.
He tried grinding his thumb into March's perineum, which made March yelp but it quickly trailed off into a moan.
March's cock was mostly clean now, so Healy went back to sucking hickeys into any bit of skin he could reach while he continued scissoring his fingers, opening March up bit by bit.
He bent his fingers a little and dragged them back towards himself in a scooping motion. He knew he had found what he was looking for when March's back arched off the bed and his legs closed in around Healy's head.
"What the fuuuuuuck?" March asked, moaning the last word.
Healy smiled to himself, repeating the motion. Soon enough March relaxed, turned into a moaning, swearing mess.
His cock was now fully hard again, twitching and leaking against his belly.
Slipping in a third finger was a lot easier now and before long March was what Healy hoped was sufficiently loosened up. The fit would still be tight, but knowing March, he'd enjoy a bit of pain.
Healy pulled his fingers free and watched March's hole clench around nothing, before he got to his feet with a groan, his knees protesting at the movement.
March looked at him a little confused and was about to say something when Healy crashed their mouths together once again, stealing his breath and words away.
Their teeth and tongues clashed as they kissed and Healy urged March to scoot up higher on the bed until his head laid nicely on his pillow.
Healy pushed March's thighs apart and slotted himself between them, grinding their cocks together.
"I don't know what you're doing to me," he confessed against March's lips, who raked his nails across Healy's back with a groan, probably leaving angry red welts in their wake.
"Just fuck me already," March needled him and Healy bit down on his lip until he tasted blood in retaliation.
Healy blindly searched for the bottle of lube, uncapped it and slicked up his cock as well as he could, smearing the rest on March's entrance.
He grabbed the underside of March's right thigh and bent it up as far as it would go. His other hand held onto the base of his cock as he lined it up, the blunt head catching on March's rim.
Healy looked March in the eyes, seeing a myriad of indecipherable emotions there, and then pushed himself inside.
March clenched his jaw, trying to bear the discomfort without making a sound.
Healy kissed him deeply in an attempt to take his mind off things. He then grabbing March's other leg and bending it up in much the same way until he was bent almost in half.
"Holy shit," March moaned once Healy was seated fully inside of him, hips pressed to March's delicious, perky ass. Healy groaned in agreement.
March was much tighter and hotter inside than he could possibly have anticipated. It almost felt like his dick was about to be cut off, painful yet perhaps the most pleasurable thing he had ever felt.
"Why the fuck are you so fucking thick?" March whined, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
"You make it sound like a complaint," Healy said, amused.
He didn't give March a chance to reply or adjust any further, just pulled out as far as he could without slipping free and slammed himself back inside.
March cried out as Healy went straight to pounding into him. Healy knew it was a little mean and probably not what he was supposed to do, but now that he was inside of March, he could no longer stop himself.
Healy grunted, the exertion already making itself known. He wasn't young anymore after all, but he didn't care.
March buried his nails in Healy's shoulder blades, holding on for dear life. Healy held onto March's waist, pushing and pounding him into the mattress with his whole body weight.
"Ah, wait—" March whimpered and it sounded all watery and frantic. Sure enough, when Healy turned his head to look, March was crying.
Healy moved one hand to cup March's cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.
"You're pretty when you cry," Healy rasped, surprised at the candid admission.
March stared at him, all wide-eyed and surprised. Healy couldn't help but kiss him again.
"H-Healy," March moaned when they parted. Healy angled his hips in an attempt to hit his prostate again. March threw his head back with a loud whine on the next thrust. Bingo.
Healy kept jackhammering into him, burying his face against the side of March's neck and nibbling on the skin just below his ear. Judging by the sounds March kept making, he was starting to really enjoy this now.
"Call me Jack," he ordered and March made a strangled sound, pulling him tighter against himself.
Healy could feel March's wedding ring dig into his chest and suddenly felt a little guilty. But that was something they could unpack later. Or knowing them not at all.
The hand that was still resting on March's cheek moved down to his neck. Healy closed it around March's throat and without really thinking it through, started to squeeze.
March wheezed and clenched down harder on Healy's cock as his eyes rolled back slightly.
"Look at you, falling apart on my cock like a cheap whore. Do you like getting fucked by other men? Look at how useless that pretty cock of yours is now. You think anyone else can make you feel this good?" Healy grunted right into March's ear. He didn't know what had come over him, he just felt a sudden urge to say these filthy things to March.
March gasped and panted and tightened up impossibly more. Healy throbbed inside him; he was getting close now.
"You're the tightest I've ever had," Healy said and it was true. He hoped June had fun with his father, because March sure as hell was an infinitely better lay than she had ever been. Good fucking riddance.
March was clawing at his back and sides so hard now, Healy was sure he must be drawing blood. Somehow the idea of March leaving marks on him too made his heart swell with an emotion he didn't care to identify right now. He was busy pounding March into another state of existence, after all. Or maybe he was just scared. Perhaps a bit of both.
Healy squeezed down on March's throat just a little tighter.
"You look real pretty stuffed full of my cock," Healy panted and he meant every word of it.
He licked up the shell of March's ear and that seemed to be enough to finally push him over the edge.
March went ramrod straight, then begun to tremble like a leaf as he spilled onto his stomach with a muted moan.
Healy finally let go of his throat and March gasped for air. Undeterred, Healy kept up his brutal pace, fucking March through his orgasm. Healy wouldn't hold out much longer himself, spurred on by March's spasming walls and the fact that he really had made March come on his cock.
Healy knew he should pull out, that fucking without protection at all was an absolutely unhinged idea, but he couldn't do it. March didn't seem to want him to come outside either, hooking both legs over his lower back to keep him from pulling out.
"Jack—" March groaned—still completely breathless—and Healy honest-to-God moaned at hearing March say his given name, during sex of all times. Sure, he had been the one to suggest it, but he wasn't prepared to actually hear it.
March grabbed his jaw with both hands and pulled him in for one last, searing kiss. Their faces knocked together clumsily, but neither of them seemed to care, too lost in the pleasure.
March was getting all twitchy now, writhing and moaning, probably overstimulated. He dragged his tongue along the roof of Healy's mouth and that was all Healy needed to finish.
His hips stilled, the sudden silence in the room deafening, and stars burst behind his eyelids as he came harder than he ever had before, spilling his load buried to the hilt inside of March.
They stayed like that for some time, attempting to catch their breath. Healy felt like he had just run a marathon; his joints already ached something fierce. He really was no longer in his prime.
March eventually let go of him, limbs flopping limply to the side like a starfish.
Healy pulled out and cringed at the mess. That would have to be a problem for later. He rolled off with a grunt and laid down next to March.
Neither of them said anything for a while. Healy felt like he had to say something, but didn't know what. They had never really talked about their feelings—just in general, but much less about how they felt for each other—about what they were. They had just gone with the flow. Perhaps that was fine for once.
He glanced over at March. He had his eyes closed, blissed out expression on his tear-stained face. It almost looked like he was asleep. Healy thought he looked beautiful like this.
March blindly reached onto the bedside table, grabbed a cigarette from his nearly empty pack and lit it with practised ease.
Healy simply watched him; his chest felt tight despite the mind-blowing orgasm he had just had.
The feeling only got worse as he watched March grab hold of the wedding band resting on his chest.
He just held onto it for a while as he took deep drags of his cigarette. Healy swallowed hard.
Just as he was about to open his mouth, March smiled and let go of the ring.
He turned to Healy, eyes still closed, then spoke with a grin.
"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow."
Healy gaped at him. Before he could help it, a laugh bubbled out of him, all gruff and raspy. Out of all the things to say after that, Healy had not been expecting this to be the first thing out of March's mouth. Perhaps regret, or anger, but not this. March's grin hadn't faded, he wasn't running. He didn't seem to be regretting what they had just done, and neither did Healy.
"Me neither. We should take tomorrow off," Healy said, plucking the cigarette from between March's fingers and taking a drag himself.
March halfheartedly slapped his shoulder, trying to get his smoke back. Healy huffed another laugh, handing the cigarette back to March. He was much too exhausted to put up a fight.
Maybe this was just how things were between them. Things seemed to be okay. Maybe they didn't have to talk about feelings yet, or have all of those difficult conversations that were surely to come, someday.
And maybe that was okay, just for today.