Heat flushes through Mikey and his first thought is to hide. Turn his face into the pillow, roll away. Pete's asking too much.
But the instructions from his brain don't make it to his body. He just lies there, fingers around his cock, skin burning, totally lacking motion. Pete takes his silence as acquiescence and slides his fingers away, pushes his whole body away from Mikey's, robbing Mikey of his warmth. Pete shifts a few feet back on the bed, resting his head on his arm like he's about to watch a favourite movie, eyes all over Mikey, hungry.
Mikey still hasn't moved. He's not sure if he can.
"Pete, I can't-"
"Shhhh... just try okay? Please. Just try for me." Pete's begging with his eyes and Mikey's crumbling, last defences falling.
He slides his free hand beneath his glasses, covering his eyes because he can't look right now. Can't see Pete watching him and do this. Still not sure if he even can do this.
His cock hasn't softened. Not even a little. It's like his mortification is only making him hotter, feeding the fire in his crotch. He tightens his grip on his cock, feels the answering throb and starts to stroke. He can hear Pete's little sigh when he does. He tries not the think about it, tries to pretend he's alone in his bunk and he's gotta be so quiet or someone will hear.
He can still hear Pete. His breathing's rough and he's making wet sounds with his mouth. Mikey wants to know what he's doing, but he's still not ready to look. He polishes the head of his cock with his palm, spreading the little droplets of precome over skin til his hand slides. It feels good and his breath hitches, quietly. He can hear Pete moan a little at that and damn him if he doesn't want to know what Pete's doing now.
He's never felt more naked in his life. More naked than he felt five minutes ago, when he had Pete's skin to warm him and cover him. Now he's completely exposed, feeling like he's all angles and bones and awkward motion. Completely unsexy. Why would Pete want to see this? What could he possibly getting out of this?
"Mikey..." Pete's whispering is completely unneccessary, they're alone in the room, he could just talk. "Mikey, can you... I wanna see your face." There's that desperate begging tone again and it's doing something to Mikey's insides. It's making him, against his better judgement, slide his hand off his eyes and look at Pete.
He's completely unprepared for what he sees. Pete's rabid gaze, the pornography of his mouth, the way he's sucking on two of his own fingers and just eating Mikey up with his eyes. Pete's shifting and twitching, his free hand curled in the sheets and just staring at Mikey.
A thrill of heat at the attention, so intense it's like a physical caress, shoots through Mikey's bloodstream. He's in a new place now. He's centre stage and Pete's in his thrall, hypnotised by movements, his hands, his hips.
Mikey bites his lip and shifts, moving into his own touch, rolling his hips a little in time with his strokes. He's not comfortable with this, not by a long shot, but the way Pete's looking at him... he could take more of that. Definitely.
Re: Comment!Fic Ur doing it wrong
But the instructions from his brain don't make it to his body. He just lies there, fingers around his cock, skin burning, totally lacking motion. Pete takes his silence as acquiescence and slides his fingers away, pushes his whole body away from Mikey's, robbing Mikey of his warmth. Pete shifts a few feet back on the bed, resting his head on his arm like he's about to watch a favourite movie, eyes all over Mikey, hungry.
Mikey still hasn't moved. He's not sure if he can.
"Pete, I can't-"
"Shhhh... just try okay? Please. Just try for me." Pete's begging with his eyes and Mikey's crumbling, last defences falling.
He slides his free hand beneath his glasses, covering his eyes because he can't look right now. Can't see Pete watching him and do this. Still not sure if he even can do this.
His cock hasn't softened. Not even a little. It's like his mortification is only making him hotter, feeding the fire in his crotch. He tightens his grip on his cock, feels the answering throb and starts to stroke. He can hear Pete's little sigh when he does. He tries not the think about it, tries to pretend he's alone in his bunk and he's gotta be so quiet or someone will hear.
He can still hear Pete. His breathing's rough and he's making wet sounds with his mouth. Mikey wants to know what he's doing, but he's still not ready to look. He polishes the head of his cock with his palm, spreading the little droplets of precome over skin til his hand slides. It feels good and his breath hitches, quietly. He can hear Pete moan a little at that and damn him if he doesn't want to know what Pete's doing now.
He's never felt more naked in his life. More naked than he felt five minutes ago, when he had Pete's skin to warm him and cover him. Now he's completely exposed, feeling like he's all angles and bones and awkward motion. Completely unsexy. Why would Pete want to see this? What could he possibly getting out of this?
"Mikey..." Pete's whispering is completely unneccessary, they're alone in the room, he could just talk. "Mikey, can you... I wanna see your face." There's that desperate begging tone again and it's doing something to Mikey's insides. It's making him, against his better judgement, slide his hand off his eyes and look at Pete.
He's completely unprepared for what he sees. Pete's rabid gaze, the pornography of his mouth, the way he's sucking on two of his own fingers and just eating Mikey up with his eyes. Pete's shifting and twitching, his free hand curled in the sheets and just staring at Mikey.
A thrill of heat at the attention, so intense it's like a physical caress, shoots through Mikey's bloodstream. He's in a new place now. He's centre stage and Pete's in his thrall, hypnotised by movements, his hands, his hips.
Mikey bites his lip and shifts, moving into his own touch, rolling his hips a little in time with his strokes. He's not comfortable with this, not by a long shot, but the way Pete's looking at him... he could take more of that. Definitely.