"Fuck you," Mike snaps, and it's about just as much as he can say. He's flipped from his back to his stomach in a matter of seconds and he finds even if he wanted to not comply, he wouldn't be able to.
There will never be a last time, he thinks, because not only can Mike take everything Tim gives him, he can dish it out twice as bad. They're doomed to claw at each other's throats until one of them dies.
The rough kiss is responded in kind--Mike bites down on Tim's lip, hard, and while he can't speak he can definitely moan appreciatively. It's that hand on his throat, that fucking pressure that's just right.
His hips raise up, wanting. Needing, despite himself, though he's at that stage where Tim could do just about anything and it would be hot.
So he kisses back a second time, rough and wanting, and his hands move to the other's throat, pressing into the flesh and knowing damn well where he's going to mark.
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There will never be a last time, he thinks, because not only can Mike take everything Tim gives him, he can dish it out twice as bad. They're doomed to claw at each other's throats until one of them dies.
The rough kiss is responded in kind--Mike bites down on Tim's lip, hard, and while he can't speak he can definitely moan appreciatively. It's that hand on his throat, that fucking pressure that's just right.
His hips raise up, wanting. Needing, despite himself, though he's at that stage where Tim could do just about anything and it would be hot.
So he kisses back a second time, rough and wanting, and his hands move to the other's throat, pressing into the flesh and knowing damn well where he's going to mark.