sorry, did I say a light dusting of blush before? what I actually meant to say was that by the time michael’s finished his mini-speech about how rich is the actual gift, his fiancé’s cheeks (and ears… and shoulders…) are so flushed, it’s surprising that kids don’t compare him to a flashlight or light bulb instead of rudolph.
despite the fact he seemingly doesn’t care, rich is quick to retract his hands from michael. a quiet apology is offered alongside it, and then… it’s back to their original position. mostly because of the “complaint,” but also because he’s taking advantage to continue that kiss michael so rudely ended too early.
unwrapping any sort of gifts - under the tree or otherwise - can wait. for now, he just wants to spoil his beautiful, brilliant fiancé with kisses. of the singular kind. just one kiss. a very long, very appreciative kiss.
“merry christmas, babe.”
Fun fact! Rich is unbearably cute when he gets all blushy like that. It’s hardly a slow spread of a flush - one minute he’s a soft pink, then all of a sudden he’s dipping down to a deep red. Michael adores the sight.
Less fond is he of those chilly hands being slipped off of his person, if that low noise that only just slips out of him is any indication. A kiss is an acceptable substitute for them, though. ...Or no. More than acceptable, really. It’s lovely. Wonderful.
“Merry Christmas, my dear.”
And then it’s right back to giving his fiancé those good good kisses.
dying a horribly dramatic death and then getting a second shot at life from your well-intentioned but a little misled best friend is something you never get used to, no matter how many months it’s been since you were revived! …or, at least, that’s her excuse for not dodging the cushion he throws as it bounces off of her chest.
it’s definitely slow zombie reflexes. it’s absolutely not the fact that she just wasn’t paying attention because she was busy laughing at her own joke.
at least aya’s nice, though!
the kiss that comes instead of jail time is appreciated, and the smile aya earns in response to it shows it. even em gets it directed at him, regardless of the fact he’s being a grinch like this. low holiday spirits or not, he’s still her partner who she loves! and she wants him to know that!
“don’t worry, em.”
“I’ve got snow many more where that came from.”
he can never be free from the terrible jokes, though.
“This is so cruel and unnecessary!”
It’s really not.
Aya’s giggling again at Pidge’s second horrible crime joke, and these awful holiday-based sins earn her another little kiss! This time to it’s to her jawline, mostly out of ease of reach.
“S’not so bad, Em! You should try coming up with a few of your own! Don’t you wanna just say somethin’ and get Pidge’s face lighting up? She’s so cute when she laughs! You might as well give it a go!” Where’s this going... “Might cracker up!”
Not as good as Pidge’s, honestly. Still enough to get him to shoot a glare at her.
“You two are evil.” His pout isn’t hard to identify as overly dramatic. “Christmas witches. Both of you.”
Em rises from where he’d fallen to the ground, only to plant himself facedown on the bed this time. What a baby. Aya’s laughing again.
“Sign my Christmas petition to send Pidge and Aya to gay baby jail. With your support, once and for all I will be free of the torment they love to put me through.”
nervous, that’s a good way to describe it. michael calls his joke awful, but there’s no small trace of a smile to show he’s fine with it even as he says otherwise, and rich… is nervous.
until a few moments pass and michael finally caves. kiss and comments alike settle his nerves from worried buzzing into more of a pleased hum, complete with a slight dusting of pink to his cheeks. rich knows he was just kidding around, but calling him an angel…
and then there’s that.
putting it politely: rich laughs. right in michael’s face. which, of course, seems rude, but he was caught off-guard! that’s why. that’s also why it takes him a few seconds to respond properly.
“y'ain’t wrong.” rich adjusts how he’s sitting now - it’s less that he’s found a comfortable way to chill out on his boy’s lap, and more that he’s unashamedly straddling him. and no matter how faint the motion is, the smirk that mirrors michael’s own means the fact that he’s lightly grinding his hips is definitely on purpose. “big’s a real good word for it.”
“but tree ain’t.”
it stops as quickly as it began. now, his arms are already removing themselves from where he’d only just put them… so rich can slide his hands underneath michael’s shirt.
“oughta call it a gift.” his fingers idly trace shapes against wherever they can touch, though they do keep creeping down towards the top of michael’s pants. too bad someone’s sitting there and preventing them from going any further. “both ‘cause I wanna thank y'for it-”
he leans in close to michael’s ear and, with another (more obvious) roll of his hips,
“-and I wanna unwrap it.”
Perhaps not his smartest move to tease like that if it’s bringing Rich such worry. Really, Michael should know better. He’ll just have to make up for it later.
Or he’ll be punished. That seems to be what’s happening here. The grinding can count as a punishment, however enjoyable he may find it.
“Aren’t you a sweet one, sugarplum.” Is he the one who made the dirty joke first? Yes. Is he willing to go down that path right now? Also yes. But he can’t help getting a bit sappy too. “Unwrap away. Behaviour like that might go landing you on the naughty list, but nothing I can offer you will outshine the gift you give me just existing here with me. I love you, my star.”
He’s going overboard with this, isn’t he? It’s fine. He’s allowed to be sickly saccharine, it’s Christmas! So it’s totally, perfectly acceptable when he draws Rich in for a kiss that’s more driven by joy than desire, only to chuckle when he pulls back from it.
“Don’t.” is out before she’s even said anything, but of course that isn’t about to stop her. Nothing will stop her. Em is doomed to this, it’s his eternal punishment. “Please.”
His pleas are worthless this fine Christmas Day! He can’t stop his girls. You’d think he’d know that by now. Em groans, mimics a dramatic death, and flops off the end of the bed. That isn’t the end of him, luckily. He gets a second hurrah at life! ...Only to pick up a cushion and throw it at Pidge.
“You both suck.”
Aya, unlike Em, is enjoying every second of this.
She flops back on the bed just as he’d done. Only where he had a look about him like he was being tortured, Aya’s pretty blatantly giggling her head off at Pidge’s dumb little pun. When she calms herself she pops right back up, smile still firmly fixed on her face.
“Love it.”
She hops off the bed then, making her way to Pidge’s side and snaking an arm around her waist. Pidge’s reward for her crimes is not gay baby jail this time, but a quick kiss to the tip of her nose from her jolly girlfriend.
“Nice one, ya goof. Couple more like that and he’ll probably explode or somethin’.” In case it’s not painfully obvious who she means, she jabs a thumb in Em’s direction as she talks. She’s answered with a rather rude hand gesture from him, at which she scoffs. “He really ain’t feelin’ the holiday spirit.”
Maybe because you keep bullying him with awful puns, Aya.
"hey, babe. are you christmas?" here comes rich, climbing into michael's lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. he pauses before the punchline to give a single kiss, only to pull back and laugh, "'cause I really wanna merry you."
Richard is ridiculous. There’s no objection to the plopping himself in Michael’s lap, or to the single smooch, but that joke…
“Awful.”
…Of course, that blunt remark isn’t the end of it. A few seconds of stoicism pass, then a smile’s breaking out across Michael’s face. He gives Rich a peck of his own, then goes on to say -
“You sleigh me, darling. But… ah, are you sure this is where you should be sitting? Angels belong on top of the tree, don’t they?”
Another teeny tiny kiss, before he follows that up with the worst possible thing.
“I know it’s big, but it hardly qualifies as a tree.”
Rich comes at him with a cute little pun about marriage, and Michael proceeds to ruin it with that. He’s not even sorry! Look, his smile is turning to a sly little smirk, he’s definitely not sorry. Garbage man.
The last kick from Rich reaching his own climax earns a single extra cry from him, though this one comes far quieter than its predecessors. It’s really closer to a sigh than another ecstatic shout.
Then he’s done. Completely and utterly spent once again, twice as exhausted this time. He’s alone there for now, though, but lacking the energy to moan means he can instead force his still-fuzzy brain to focus on what he feels right this moment. After all, feeling Rich finish inside of him is always something he enjoys! Getting to feel it while pinned only makes it better, and those last few ending pumps are pure bliss for him.
When his ass is dickless again, he’s ready to drop to sleep. That would be a pain to do, however, considering the mess he’s made... but luckily there’s Rich here. Always the sweetheart and ready to help him out. Michael’s out of energy, even for simple tasks like parting his legs a little wider to make more room for his beefy boy. There’d be no chance of him cleaning himself up.
“We’ll need a bath later...” is delivered as a trembling arm is raised to pet Rich’s hair. Later is definitely the operative word there. Neither of them are going to be up to much other than cuddling for a while now. “Me especially.”
Much as he enjoys it, he’s not a cat! A tongue bath will only go so far.
As strength returns little by little, it brings his voice back. From the husky whisper it was reduced to, it’s now... pretty scratchy still, honestly. But better! He’ll just have to rest it a bit.
“Thank you, love. That was...” Amazing! Glorious! Astounding! “Wow. I swear, you only... you only get better. I’ll have to...” Michael yawns, as if his sleepiness wasn’t evident enough in his voice. “I’ll have to return the favour soon. I do hope I can match up for you.”
His boy really wants to see him finish, huh? He gets faster, harder, finally gets to pounding him hard without Michael even having to ask. It’s good, great, fantastic, he loves it. He pays Rich back by screaming, singing, crying out for the world to hear. He calls out curses, he calls out his boy’s name, he calls out unintelligible phrases, basic wordless grunts and groans.
A show is put on for Rich, giving him every and any reaction Michael knows he loves to see from him. It’s the least he deserves for this.
“God, god-” Michael believes in no god, of course, but that hardly stops him invoking them to cry out to. If there is any sort of god out there, he hopes they’re glad to watch how great and thorough of a fucking that Michael is getting from Rich right now. Hopes they enjoy hearing him pant and curse and call out to them yet again. And if they’re not there, then he hopes the universe itself can enjoy this instead. “Richard... I - I can do that.”
He’s not the only one who’s close, and he can tell! Michael adores that. Thinking about how Rich is maybe moments away from finishing inside of him... well, that only brings him closer to his own end. Rich wants to see him cum, and Rich is going to get what he wants.
Michael’s hand is off of himself now, and he peels Rich’s away as well so that he can hold it. It’s dragged up to his mouth to press a kiss to it, then he gives it a hell of a squeeze. Another thrust from Rich gets him crying out one final time, loud and passionate. The neighbours won’t have missed that one. The blissful, ecstatic face he makes, however... is for his lover’s eyes only.
Just like Rich had hoped to see, Michael finishes on his own stomach. Sticky mess now pooling on him, he goes limp and loses the strength to keep his grip on Rich’s hand. Even so, he’s happy! No matter how many times they do this, his response when done never changes. He smiles, shaky and weak, and hoarsely whispers.
Rich thumbs the head again, pairs it with grabbing at his ass, and Michael is all but singing out the chorus of moans that comes in response. No words to answer Rich, just cries to fill his ears and echo through the room.
The thought of being heard by others only gets him going louder - the very idea that other people, people he barely knows, can hear his moaning... That they hear him cry out so clearly they can tell just how deeply he’s being fucked, and how much he adores having Rich’s cock in his ass... That they hear him clear enough to even pick up on the little nuances of his cries, like how they shift in pitch or intensity depending on what’s being done to him.... That they can practically picture Michael, naked and painfully hard and coming undone as each thrust from Rich sends new feelings of pleasure coursing through him... god it’s exciting.
And the torment - oh, the torment - he can hardly take it. ...Or okay, maybe it’s not really torment when those hands no longer on him are lifting him, but losing that stimulating touch on his dick still has smaller whines dividing his cries.
It’s hard to keep your arm wrapped around your lover when all of a sudden your legs are being yanked up to where it is, so Michael lets both arms flop to his sides with a little fwump from the sheet impact. Look, he may be flexible, but there’s no reason to keep his arm up there!
A question’s posed, and Michael spends a second gathering himself to get out a coherent answer. It’s on track to work! ...And then Rich is cheating, catching his answer right on one of those particularly hard and deep thrusts. His voice pitches high, and he screams out his answer.
“Luh - let them hear-!”
One of those hands that has fallen useless at his side is wrapping around his own erection now, thumb on the head similar to where Rich’s had rested... but rather than pumping himself while trailing the thumb around, he presses the pad of it over his dickhole and holds it there. His other hand busies itself dancing over wherever on Rich he can reach from his new position.
“You - you - you know I’m not built t-to last, I... if you go any harder I - ah, god - I’m gonna - I’ll cum all over myself, and it’ll - it’ll be your fault...!”
When Rich stops to let him speak, Michael at first is almost positive that he must have heard his request and is now just messing about, teasing him further as he so loves to do. But he quickly disregards the thought! He knows Rich, and knows that for all his screwing around he’s not going to consistently go as far as he can to torment him here. It’s more likely a genuinely considerate move, so Michael takes that offered time to catch his breath and steady his voice, then repeats his request.
“Love you too.” is delivered a little hoarsely. His volume hasn’t even gone up that much yet, and his throat’s already giving out on him? He’s going to be resting his voice for the rest of the day, most likely. But that’s fine by him.
Rich gets back to it, which only pulls more tiny grunts and groans from Michael. Kisses turn to bites, and wordless vocalising turns to tiny gasps of oh fuck, yes, miraculously making it out of his mouth fully understandable in spite of the notable difficulty he has forming words right now. His volume grows the more Rich groans profanities against him, and his own curses turn to cries of Rich, Richard, darling, oh love. They don’t quite have the right enunciations to register perfectly when heard, but his heart’s clearly in his cries here.
Marriage... that’s coming soon, isn’t it? Clarity of mind isn’t something he has right now, thoughts are hazy with ecstasy and all that, but Michael likes the thought of that. Rich will be his husband soon. He’ll be Rich’s husband soon. They’ll be in a place to spend their lives together, if all goes well. He loves him. He loves him so fucking much and -
He hits a peak with his volume at that next toying thrust, calling out his future husband’s name loud enough that it would be impressive for it to go unheard by those living nearby. It’s just the one shout, though! He quickly moves to muffle himself, removing one of those hands that’s been at work clawing up Rich’s back to clamp it over his mouth.
Then, when the pace has evened out again, he’s giggling. It’s not a cute laugh - it’s quiet and gritty and obviously dirty. He mutters something that’s barely more than a whisper, laughs again. Then manages to choke out something easier for Rich to hear.
“Loud, you - you’re making me so loud... they’ll know - they’ll... they’re go - going to know exactly w-what you’re doing to me...”
Can you tell he’s enjoying the idea of the neighbours hearing him? Because he’s enjoying the idea of the neighbours hearing him.
Michael mid-intercourse is an undeniably unattractive sight. If not for the amount he tends to sweat (his hair is all but soaked by now), then for the variety of hideous facial contortions that pleasure tends to bring about from him. The idea of someone finding him tolerable, let alone attractive like this is astonishing. Yet here’s Rich, going beyond begrudgingly dealing with his lover’s looks, and managing to find them endearing, attractive. One could dismiss his sweet words as kind lies, but Rich is no liar. Which means in return for that, he’s gifted to the unconditional love of this ugly, ugly sex man.
At least he’s cute when he’s not getting off!
Well, he did ask for slowly. That means he doesn’t really get to call Rich out on the teasing. Not that he has the voice to do that anyway, since any sound coming out of his mouth is limited to strained groans as Rich pushes back inside, dissolving completely into a gasp and quick breaths when that thumb’s running over his head.
Rich beats Michael to prime neck-kissing position, meaning there’s nothing for him to occupy his mouth with. That in turn means that there’s nothing filling his mouth to disguise the new noises he’s making. His breath is hot by Rich’s ear as he takes those torturously slow thrusts, jaw hanging open as he pants. Nothing Michael can do about this delicious torment but hold Rich tighter and determinedly bite back the temptation to beg for the exact pounding that his boy also happens to be fantasising about.
“You-” is all he gets out before his attempt to talk breaks down into a loud cry. That sudden, single quick thrust really wasn’t fair. Is that reaction cute enough for you, Richard? Hope it’s worth it, because Michael’s stammering out faux-irritated grumbles about it being a dirty move now. Those complaints come to a quick end when the agonisingly slow jacking is added to the equation. No more words, just entirely broken little mewls and grunts.
If he could get himself together enough to give a coherent answer, Michael would surely take to waxing lyrical about how if Rich thinks he’s lucky, then he himself must be the single luckiest man on the entire planet. How it’s such a divine feeling to get to see that ring on Rich, to get to have Rich touch him with those hands, and how to get to have all this and get him inside of him is bringing him indescribable bliss.
None of that comes, however, because Michael’s a mess that can barely speak a word right now that doesn’t fall apart into a moan upon leaving his lips. So rather than try to express his love with words, he presses a light kiss to Rich’s shoulder before forcing himself to stutter out a request.
There’s no time for him to respond with his own I love you, because it’s back to hungry, deep kisses. That’s hardly a problem! It simply gives him the task of returning those words when the vigour of their makeout dies down a bit. Considering the hand securing his hip and the cock preparing to ease its way inside of him, it’s gonna be a minute before then.
Rich pushes in, and Michael’s guiding hands are no longer needed at his entrance, which means he’s free to bring them up and throw them around Rich’s neck. The further inside Rich gets, the tighter an embrace Michael holds him in. He breaks their kiss, only for a few seconds, and with a smile on his lips he finally answers Rich’s declaration with one of his own.
“I - hah - I love you too. My beau - my beautiful Richard, I love you so fucking much.” Then his mouth is back where it belongs, his kisses growing even more feverish in intensity now.
Maybe he’s digging his nails in, fingers trembling as they drag down his boy’s skin, but if he is it’s not a conscious action. His focused mind registers very little beyond the stimulation the dick in his ass offers and the moaning directly into his mouth that Rich is doing, and said moaning triggers the same response from Michael right back.
It’s entirely shameless, and when Rich is breaking their kiss again Michael’s left panting. Their foreheads touch, his already sweat-slick bangs now pressed into and sticking against Rich’s skin. He doesn’t speak back, instead settling for smiling and nuzzling against his boy.
When he does, after a minute, pipe up again, his whisper is soft enough that it would almost surely be inaudible if the two of them weren’t pressed so close together.
“...Slowly now, to start?” He wants to savour this.
The sound that Rich gives in response to his touch is beautiful. Michael loves it. He continues his work happily once his request is out there, unashamedly enjoying the touch he’s giving himself, and letting the sounds he plucks from his boy fill his ears.
The bite brings it back to Michael’s turn to voice his pleasure. Another grunt, and Rich’s reward is a finger fiddling with his drawn-back foreskin and a thumb stretching to lightly stroke along his shaft. This doubles as another gift to himself from Michael with the pressure that stretching his digits around his own dick to reach the other side of Rich’s provides.
When it’s time to receive what he’s asked for, he compensates for the removal of his hand by rolling his hips a few times. Just to get that last teeny tiny bit of teasing in there. He goes to stick his tongue out as he’s pinned back, but then Rich’s mouth is on his again. Convenient! ...At least until Rich is moving on, not that Michael minds that.
Is it weird to find someone ripping a condom open attractive? Is it weird to find someone putting on a condom attractive? If the answer to either is yes, then surprise - Michael is weird! Everything about this is attractive to him.
“You’re one to talk. Just look at you.” Once all is sorted and ready, Michael’s back up in Rich’s space. He’s proudly presenting himself with legs open and hands between them, further spreading himself for easy access. “My love, you are the stunning one here.”
Richard... Richard, Richard, Richard.
Michael enjoys seeing the grin grow on him, but his own promptly shrinks when he realises where this is going. He’s played himself here with that last quip, hasn’t he? Whoops.
A grumpy whine just barely slips from the back of his throat when the fingers are out. He sits up, freeing the sheets he’d balled up in his fists as he folds his arms, and pouts at his teasing fiancé. Hard. The pout, however, is undermined by the fact that it’s not the only part of him that’s hard right now. A traitorous twitch of his cock comes as an unfairly-delayed reaction to the teasing, and again he leaks.
“How could you.” It’s unclear if he's addressing Rich or himself. Rich has, after all, already proven today that his dick is worthy of being included in the conversation. And clearly it’s aware enough to be working against Michael himself. How awful.
“Actually... I’ll be honest. I’m far from feeling the denial today.” Now it’s his turn to be crawling up to his boy, planting himself right on top of him. Will this make it difficult to get what he wants from him? You know it. Is that stopping him? Nope. “And I know that you don’t care for denying yourself.”
With their respective arousals so neatly lined up, it’s easy for Michael in this new position to take both in his hand and rub. Is this an extra treat? A moment of ‘revenge’ for Rich’s little tricks? Both? Who knows! The only thing certain right now is that those dicks are getting some very nice treatment.
“So,” is spoken only when there’s a pause in his motions. Even without that pleasurable distraction, it still only comes as barely more than a whisper. “What I actually want here is for you to pin me down and fuck me. But... romantically. Is that alright?”
Neither of them have ever cared for the phrase ‘making love,’ but that’s pretty much what he’s asking for. He wants his gorgeous fiancé to make love to him.
As cute and considerate as they are, those reminders aren’t anything he doesn’t know. That doesn’t keep Michael from catching his breath in his throat, then heaving out a big sigh once Rich has pushed that first finger inside. The second joins, and kisses are delivered alongside compliments, and he just can’t stop the whimpers that slip free from him.
Freed from duty, his hands lay at his sides and act of indicators for whenever Rich’s fingers hit just the right spot or make the perfect movement. They grip the sheets beneath, bunching them up as they curl into fists around them long before any attempts to tease are made by Rich. “Mm-” is all he can answer before the sudden curling of those fingers pulls another absurdly immodest moan from him. Knuckles are white with the tightness of his grip now, and Michael only manages to force his eyes half open to look at his boy after that.
“Oh? You’re - you’re trying to tell me you - ah - you don’t want to fuck me now?” Keeping a grin on his face is difficult, but he’s determined to turn this teasing around on Rich or nut trying. “Just... just never going to - to get yourself taken care of, eh? I thought I was the one with a taste for denial here.”
Smug words for a man with another man’s fingers crammed in his asshole. A man very clearly craving having more than just Rich’s fingers crammed in there, at that.
“But if you really have no interest, I - I suppose it can’t be helped...”
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