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Mal’ik inhaled sharply when Oliver licked a broad stripe right over his hole, and his rim twitched.
Oh fuck, this was happening.
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had eaten him out, and that was Oliver down there.
Oliver licked again, this time probing at his entrance with the tip of his tongue.
Mal’ik twisted his fingers in Oliver’s hair, and his thighs shook. “Oh fuck.”
He felt rather than heard Oliver’s small growl, and that was the only warning he got before Oliver assaulted his hole with his tongue.
Mal’ik snarled and dropped his head back, letting all his senses narrow down to the wet heat of Oliver licking and sucking at him. And then the invading feel of Oliver thrusting his tongue into him, fighting against the muscle of his rim to get into him.
“Oh god, Oliver. Fuck, that’s amazing.” Mal’ik’s continuous praise was starting to tip over into babbling, and he clenched his metal hand in the bedsheets.
Oliver grunted and dug his nails into Mal’ik’s skin. He pressed Mal’ik’s thighs wider and pulled his entrance open with his thumbs. He licked deeper into Mal’ik, twisting his tongue around Mal’ik’s rim, kissing at him and moaning.
“Oliver.” Mal’ik’s gasp came out breathy and broken. “Oliver.”
Oliver finally left Mal’ik’s hole and sucked sloppily back up Mal’ik’s cock. He gave his cockhead one last wet suck and then looked up at Mal’ik with wide, desperate eyes.
“Come on me, Mal’ik. Please.” Oliver dropped his hand to his own neglected length, and his hips twitched when he wrapped his fingers around it. “Please, like the first time. I want—”
“Fuck yes, Oliver. Anything for you.” Mal’ik surged forward and grabbed Oliver’s jaw with his metal hand. “Don’t stop touching yourself.”
He pushed himself from the bed and stood over Oliver to get a good angle, bending Oliver backward until he arched his spine. Oliver whined and started pulling on his own length. Mal’ik held his face tightly, just where he wanted it, Oliver’s soft, spit-shined lips just inches from Mal’ik’s cock.
Mal’ik started stroking himself, fast and hard, watching Oliver’s face twist with anticipation and eagerness.
“Yes, Mal’ik. I want it, please.”
Mal’ik growled, and his balls drew up tight and painful. His hand got sloppy. His knees shook.
“Oh fuck, Oliver.”
With a yell, Mal’ik burst all over Oliver’s beautiful face. White ribbons of his spend landed on Oliver’s lips, his high cheekbones, his pointed nose, his forehead. Droplets hung suspended in his eyelashes. Mal’ik milked himself until the weakening spurts missed Oliver’s face and landed on his collarbones and chest.
Oliver whimpered and twisted, and his hand jacked desperately over himself. Mal’ik fell to his knees, not even feeling the pain of the impact, and pushed Oliver onto his back.
“I’ve got you, Oliver. I’ve got you.”
Oliver sobbed when Mal’ik pushed his hand away to take Oliver’s length into his own soft hand.
“I’ve got you. Come for me.”
Mal’ik had barely tightened his grip when Oliver’s cock kicked against his palm and Oliver was coming with another sob, painting his own chest with milky white. Mal’ik stroked him—his grip slick with cum—until Oliver’s cock softened and Oliver started mewling and writhing with the overstimulation.
Mal’ik let out a deep, shuddering sigh and fell forward over Oliver. He braced himself with his metal hand and petted Oliver’s hipbone with his soft one. He nuzzled into Oliver’s temple, heard Oliver sigh with contentment, and inhaled that sunshine and linen scent.
“You’re so beautiful, Oliver. I—” He caught himself, not sure where he’d been about to go. Then he kissed Oliver’s forehead. “I love doing this to you.”
Before Oliver could reply and before he could come back from whatever blissful, faraway place being painted in cum took him, Mal’ik slipped one arm around Oliver’s shoulders, one arm under his knees, and lifted him.
Oliver yelped and quickly wrapped his arms around Mal’ik’s neck. “What—what are you doing?”
“Getting you clean.” Mal’ik dropped another kiss onto Oliver’s forehead and strode the handful of steps into the bathroom.
He set Oliver’s feet down on the cool tile, still keeping one arm around his shoulders, and used his free hand to open the stall door and turn the water on. The water in the pipes was still warm from Oliver’s last shower, so Mal’ik gently nudged him.
