fic: i'd play along
Title: i'd play along
Pairings: Mike/Michael
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 893
Disclaimer: I admit it! I made it up! Also: Don't google yourself.
Notes: For Porn Battle VI, prompt was play.
"We've got a few hours," Michael says. "Do you want to go play?"
Mike looks up from his book, surprised. "Are there some fans outside, or...?"
"No, I just thought..." Michael shrugs, looking hesitant. "We're parked next to the building, so it's shady. Might be... nice."
Mike nods and goes to get his guitar.
******
It feels reasonably nice outside, Mike has to admit. They've been dealing with 100 degree days for most of Warped Tour, but today is overcast and the breeze feels perfect.
He listens to Michael play, moving his fingers to shape chords that flow together with his music. He lets himself get lost in the music for a while, then looks up to give Michael a smile.
He doesn't expect the look Michael is giving him. His eyes are dark and his mouth is hanging open slightly, and really Mike can't help it that he fucks up the next chord. He curses and returns his attention to his guitar.
When he looks up again, Michael isn't looking at him anymore. He keeps his eyes on Michael and walks toward him, moving with the music.
Michael bites his lip and strums three loud, fast chords as he glances up. As the notes hang in the air, Mike repeats something similar and leans in to Michael before the notes die out.
Michael's mouth is slightly open as their lips meet, and Mike wastes no time sliding his tongue forward. Michael makes a satisfied noise and shifts toward Mike. The guitars crash together, and they pull apart quickly in surprise.
They stare at each other for only a moment before they both start laughing. Mike keeps smiling until both of their guitars are out of the way, and then Michael moves in to kiss that smile.
"Been waiting for you to do something," Michael murmurs as his hands find their way under Mike's shirt.
"Too on top of each other all the time," Mike replies, unable to keep his hands still. He wants to touch everywhere, wants this moment not to end. "We shouldn't even be doing this. Not outside." His words are belied by the fact that he's just backed Michael up against the wall and is showing no intention of backing away.
"No one's found us yet," Michael says, turning his head and kissing along Mike's neck.
"Oh god, I need a shower so bad, what are you even doing?"
Michael pauses just behind Mike's ear and whispers, "Do you want me to stop?"
Mike makes a desperate noise and pushes forward, verifying that Michael is just as hard as he is. The smirk drops off of Michael's face and he pushes his hips forward in time with Mike's thrusts. Happy with that result, Mike tilts his head to kiss Michael again, but freezes when Michael's hands find their way to the zipper of his jeans.
Michael stops, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he asks.
"Fuck," Mike says, breathing out hard. Maybe he was wrong about it not being too hot outside. "Yeah." Michael's hand wraps firmly around his dick in almost an instant, like he was just waiting for the word. He pulls roughly, keeping up a perfect rhythm, and Mike fucking loses it. "Such a bad idea, god, so long, shouldn't be out here, fuck, Michael."
An idea comes into Mike's head, and he reaches out to still Michael's hand. "Wait." He fumbles with Michael's zipper until he can push his pants down low enough, then he does the same with his own. Michael pulls Mike toward him and they fist their cocks together. It's awkward at first, but then they find a good rhythm and Mike crashes their mouths together to keep from crying out.
Michael's breath catches every few seconds, and goddamn if it's not the hottest thing Mike has ever heard. He pulls harder and is rewarded with a quiet moan from Michael, but then Michael twists his hand and it's Mike that can't hold back. Heat begins to rise up his spine as he gets closer, and he starts chanting Michael's name against his lips before he finally comes.
"You have no idea what you look like," Michael says, swallowing hard. "What you sound like."
Mike bats Michael's hand away and takes him in hand, pulling hard and fast. He kisses Michael hard, tongue practically down his throat when Michael thrusts forward one last time and comes with the filthiest cry Mike has ever heard. His heart races when he realizes he caused that.
"Mike," Michael says as he comes down. He places his hands on either side of Mike's face and leans forward again, kissing him slowly and sweetly.
When they pull away, they are both smiling goofily at each other. They rearrange their clothes as best they can, ditching the shirts completely. "Fuck, now I really need a shower," Mike complains.
Michael splays a hand across Mike's chest and says, "I know one way we can conserve water," as he brings their lips together again.
Mike makes a face when Michael pulls back. "That is such a horrible line." Michael laughs. "Seriously, where'd you get that from?"
Michael shrugs and heads back into the bus. Mike grabs both of their guitars and follows him, thinking. This really wasn't what he had in mind when Michael asked him to play, but he's not complaining.
THE END
Pairings: Mike/Michael
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 893
Disclaimer: I admit it! I made it up! Also: Don't google yourself.
Notes: For Porn Battle VI, prompt was play.
"We've got a few hours," Michael says. "Do you want to go play?"
Mike looks up from his book, surprised. "Are there some fans outside, or...?"
"No, I just thought..." Michael shrugs, looking hesitant. "We're parked next to the building, so it's shady. Might be... nice."
Mike nods and goes to get his guitar.
******
It feels reasonably nice outside, Mike has to admit. They've been dealing with 100 degree days for most of Warped Tour, but today is overcast and the breeze feels perfect.
He listens to Michael play, moving his fingers to shape chords that flow together with his music. He lets himself get lost in the music for a while, then looks up to give Michael a smile.
He doesn't expect the look Michael is giving him. His eyes are dark and his mouth is hanging open slightly, and really Mike can't help it that he fucks up the next chord. He curses and returns his attention to his guitar.
When he looks up again, Michael isn't looking at him anymore. He keeps his eyes on Michael and walks toward him, moving with the music.
Michael bites his lip and strums three loud, fast chords as he glances up. As the notes hang in the air, Mike repeats something similar and leans in to Michael before the notes die out.
Michael's mouth is slightly open as their lips meet, and Mike wastes no time sliding his tongue forward. Michael makes a satisfied noise and shifts toward Mike. The guitars crash together, and they pull apart quickly in surprise.
They stare at each other for only a moment before they both start laughing. Mike keeps smiling until both of their guitars are out of the way, and then Michael moves in to kiss that smile.
"Been waiting for you to do something," Michael murmurs as his hands find their way under Mike's shirt.
"Too on top of each other all the time," Mike replies, unable to keep his hands still. He wants to touch everywhere, wants this moment not to end. "We shouldn't even be doing this. Not outside." His words are belied by the fact that he's just backed Michael up against the wall and is showing no intention of backing away.
"No one's found us yet," Michael says, turning his head and kissing along Mike's neck.
"Oh god, I need a shower so bad, what are you even doing?"
Michael pauses just behind Mike's ear and whispers, "Do you want me to stop?"
Mike makes a desperate noise and pushes forward, verifying that Michael is just as hard as he is. The smirk drops off of Michael's face and he pushes his hips forward in time with Mike's thrusts. Happy with that result, Mike tilts his head to kiss Michael again, but freezes when Michael's hands find their way to the zipper of his jeans.
Michael stops, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he asks.
"Fuck," Mike says, breathing out hard. Maybe he was wrong about it not being too hot outside. "Yeah." Michael's hand wraps firmly around his dick in almost an instant, like he was just waiting for the word. He pulls roughly, keeping up a perfect rhythm, and Mike fucking loses it. "Such a bad idea, god, so long, shouldn't be out here, fuck, Michael."
An idea comes into Mike's head, and he reaches out to still Michael's hand. "Wait." He fumbles with Michael's zipper until he can push his pants down low enough, then he does the same with his own. Michael pulls Mike toward him and they fist their cocks together. It's awkward at first, but then they find a good rhythm and Mike crashes their mouths together to keep from crying out.
Michael's breath catches every few seconds, and goddamn if it's not the hottest thing Mike has ever heard. He pulls harder and is rewarded with a quiet moan from Michael, but then Michael twists his hand and it's Mike that can't hold back. Heat begins to rise up his spine as he gets closer, and he starts chanting Michael's name against his lips before he finally comes.
"You have no idea what you look like," Michael says, swallowing hard. "What you sound like."
Mike bats Michael's hand away and takes him in hand, pulling hard and fast. He kisses Michael hard, tongue practically down his throat when Michael thrusts forward one last time and comes with the filthiest cry Mike has ever heard. His heart races when he realizes he caused that.
"Mike," Michael says as he comes down. He places his hands on either side of Mike's face and leans forward again, kissing him slowly and sweetly.
When they pull away, they are both smiling goofily at each other. They rearrange their clothes as best they can, ditching the shirts completely. "Fuck, now I really need a shower," Mike complains.
Michael splays a hand across Mike's chest and says, "I know one way we can conserve water," as he brings their lips together again.
Mike makes a face when Michael pulls back. "That is such a horrible line." Michael laughs. "Seriously, where'd you get that from?"
Michael shrugs and heads back into the bus. Mike grabs both of their guitars and follows him, thinking. This really wasn't what he had in mind when Michael asked him to play, but he's not complaining.
THE END