He nearly topples and it's the hand moving his wrist to his back, his shoudler blade already feeling like it's on fire, that actually saves him from doing so.

The hand on his throat, constricting, the pain in his shoulders, pressing up, and that dick hard against Mike's ass is one hell of a sign. So are those words, hissed in his ear, and his dick grinds against the wall of his shitty place.

One hand moves to steady himself on the wall, already breathing heavily thanks to Tim, and after that it moves behind him and he grabs at Tim's hair as hard as he can.

"I've had plenty better fucks than you," he challenges.

It's a lie.

"Without this you can barely get it up."