Through the Lenses
E | glasses kink marcmarc | WC: 2.1K
Marc steals Marco's reading glasses.
on ao3 or read here below
Staying at each other’s place has been a routine for them since they started dating. They've exchanged keys at some point, so to see Marco sitting in Marc’s super large living room is a normal circumstance for Alex (and he definitely has seen enough of things he didn’t sign up for.) It also goes the same for Marc, except Marco’s place is much tinier and he lives alone; Rubik is also there sometimes but Marco usually has someone to look after him.
That’s also what’s happening this weekend, Marc had to attend a sponsor thing with Ducati, so he thought it’ll be nice to also stay over at his boyfriend’s place. Plus the next race is still a few weeks away, meaning that they’ll have a lot of time to spend together. It’s early though, when Marc left to drive to Bologna, and Marco was still asleep. He might’ve not heard what Marc’s business really is, but he sure did feel a peck on his forehead while he’s still wrapped warmly under his blanket.
He woke up hours after that because of Rubik’s barking, starting his morning slow. Eating his breakfast alone feels weird when he has gotten used to someone else’s presence across from him. The longing sets in deeper when he looks at the pair of their toothbrushes inside of his bathroom, and Marc’s expensive collection of skincare is lined up on the mirror’s table. It hasn’t even been hours but he has missed Marc again. Talk about being stupidly in love.
Another bark from Rubik awakens him from his daydream, reminding him that he needs to walk the dog outside. In the end, he spent another good hour playing fetch in the nearest park and talking to some neighbors he met along the way.
Finishing his morning routine, he realized that he pretty much has a free schedule—he could spend it lazing around until Marc comes back. That though, until he remembers he has picked up some good books he wanted to read: most are borrowed by his friends and some are from his sisters too. He puts the pile of them on the table as he makes himself comfortable on his sofa. A glasses case is also placed near them, he has taken out the inside to help him read.
He hasn’t been looking at the time since he started reading, but he quickly turns around when he hears the noise of a car parking then a key clicking. It means that Marc’s home. He doesn’t move, because Marc hurries to him as soon as he steps inside.
Marc kisses him softly on the lips, but his reading glasses are somewhat in the way, he wants to take them off, but Marc pins his hand to the armchair, stopping from doing so.
“I’ve missed you,” he says as they break off, his hand has traveled to the lower part of Marc’s back.
Marc chuckles, “It’s only been hours.” He’s still standing in front of Marco who’s sitting, their hands touching, his is cold while Marco’s warm. Then he notices it, his boyfriend is holding a book open on his other hand—that explains the glasses.
“What are you reading?”
Marco glances at the book. “Eh, some fantasy novel a friend lent me. Thought it’ll fill the time as I wait for you.”
Looking at it, he hums. Then his attention is back on Marco. “That looks good on you.”
“This?” Marco points at the glasses. He himself didn’t look in the mirror the whole time he has it on, so he can’t be the judge of himself.
“Mhm, I like it. You should wear them more often.”
He blushes at the compliment. It’s not like Marc never does it, but every time he does it always leaves him stunned. He still can’t believe the man returned his feelings sometimes.
Looking at Marco’s dumbfounded face, Marc feels like he wants to tease him even more, the situation is just too good to move on from. Also, he really meant it when he said he liked the glasses look on his boyfriend. He settles to sit on his lap, his hands both placed on Marco’s shoulders.
“Kiss me again, please?” He asks, tilting his head.
And does the view make an impression on Marco’s brain. Marc on his lap, his curls dangling prettily over his forehead, asking him sweetly. He won’t let him wait much longer—he closes the gap between them right after, discarding the book aside to let himself hold onto Marc’s waist, their chests brushing. He can taste Marc’s lip balm on his tongue when he deepens the kiss, a whimper coming out from the man above him. Their tongues keep on brushing, to the point where the only sounds that can be heard are their lips smacking and their heavy breaths.
Too deep in a haze, Marco didn’t realize when Marc stole his glasses and put it on himself. It’s already on Marc when he opened his eyes, leaving him confused. He intensely looks at Marc, going back and forth between his eyes and wet lips (him being the culprit), as if he’s inspecting Marc. And of course it isn’t left unnoticed.
“Hm? Does it look good on me too?”
Marco chokes on his spit, triggering Marc’s laugh. “Y-yeah,” he answers weakly. He isn’t lying, he likes the look, too much even. Marc wearing any of his things might be his weakness. Last time he wore Marco’s oversized fanclub t-shirt, they had to extend their stay at the hotel because he just couldn’t get enough of it. Now, the glasses. It’s already something that’s Marco’s, and it really fits Marc—aside from him always looking good. It makes him look hotter and Marco himself hot.
However, the response left Marc unsatisfied, a yes isn’t enough for him. He gets his face closer, until there’s only a few centimeters between their noses. “Just that? Do you like it though?” He asks, teasing. Marco’s hold on him tightens after that, his eyes going unfocused between Marc’s right and left eye, unable to speak.
The truth is, Marc already knows the answer—judging from the thing that’s poking between his ass now. He didn’t know that it’ll have this much effect on Marco, after all it’s only a pair of glasses. He was only thinking of teasing the man he turns red but now—he has a brand new objective. Still not getting any reactions, he gives one trial grind on Marco’s still clothed dick.
“Fuck,” he cusses, his hands gripping on Marc’s waist—it might bruise at this point.
He can see that Marc looks satisfied by his reaction, judging from how he’s smiling, It feels sinister. The next second, Marc’s lips are basically on his ear, whispering “Say…I’ll let you fuck my throat right now,” Marco whines. “You just have to ask nicely. Remember, you haven’t answered me.” His voice’s low and tempting. Once he said it, he straightened his posture again to get a good look on Marco. As expected, his face has turned fully red and sweaty.
“I-,” Marco’s voice comes out shaky. “I like it!” Admitting it feels like he needs to bury himself and his stupidly hard dick. “So please, I need—,” he cuts himself off, wincing because Marc’s spreading his legs and lowers himself to the ground, looking pretty and perfect. His eyes fully fixated on Marco.
“Go on.”
“I need you,” he sounds like he’s sobbing now. Marc always enjoys making him beg and cry, it’s the best version of Marco only he can see.
He runs his fingers from Marco’s lower stomach to his crotch, rubbing his cock over the clothing. “Where do you need me though?”
Marco whimpers at the sensation. “On-on my cock,” his voice is getting smaller as he goes on, “please….”
Marc smiles. “Good boy. There you go.” Pulling off Marco’s sweatpants, he leaves off some kisses on the way. Marco’s dick bobs out of it when it finally comes off, pooling at his feet. It’s standing completely still under Marc’s observation, twitching lightly when Marc blows his hot breath on it. Unconsciously, Marco’s hands went to grab on Marc’s hair, but Marc had stopped him from doing so.
“Keep your hands to yourself, got it?”
He nods. Marc has trained him enough to always be obedient. He grabs on the hem of his t-shirt instead, holding his breath, his eyes focusing on Marc gently stroking him, before taking the tip inside of his mouth. He gasps when he feels Marc’s tongue licking on the urethral opening, as if he’s trying to intrude. He barely started but Marco’s already trying hard not to force himself all the way down Marc’s warm throat.
Marc lets his spit run down the tip, making the whole shaft wetter. Once he feels like it’s wet enough, he slowly starts taking everything in, until it hits the back of his throat. Tears start forming in the corner of his eye, but his years of experience has left him with little to no gag reflex. Marco can feel his tongue rubbing on the underside of his cock, making him sensitive. It isn’t fully in yet, but without realization he has thrusted his hip, causing Marc to choke on it. He makes a weird sound, and his nose is inhaling at the faint hair near the base—the scent musky and addicting, his own cock twitching in interest.
“S-sorry,” he rushes to apologize, “I didn’t mean to-” his hands try to push Marc off instead, but Marc bobs his head instead, lips sucking vigorously. He lets out a loud moan, one hand grabbing on Marc’s hair, the other trying to cover his voice.
Pleased with the reaction, he does it again, picking up his pace—letting the tip keep hitting the back of his throat. A tear ran down his eye, and his forehead started sweating more, his curls sticking on it. Marco is all spread out on the sofa, hair messy and lips red—already parted, heavy breaths keep coming out of them. Marc’s very much enjoying the view from where he’s kneeling.
He keeps on sucking, his other hand palming at his own erection—until Marco pulls on his hair harder, whimpering louder. “Marc—marc,” he’s probably close. Marc only hums around his dick, with zero intention of stopping his action. He already feels a salty tang inside his mouth, trying not to wince on it.
“Ah–close close, may I-” Marc sucks on harder, using his hand as a support to stroke the spit-wet base. “-’m gonna come.” His voice is now a pitch higher. Must be desperate, then.
He takes Marco’s hand that’s on his hair, moving it to gesture to Marco so he’ll just do whatever he likes—to use him for his pleasure. Marco is left confused when Marc just falls soft on his dick, yet his eyes are still staring deep into his. And he’s already so so close, why would Marc stop? So he thrusts deeper, and all he hears is Marc’s muffled whimpers, all compliant. Like he’s giving Marco a taste of freedom—
That’s when he gets it. He settles into a more comfortable position, both hands holding on the sides of Marc’s head, pulling out almost completely—leaving the tip in—slamming it fully in after. Marc takes it all up like the champion he is, letting himself be used like a toy. Marco’s thighs are practically crushing his skull at this point, he feels lightheaded, maybe he’ll reach his orgasm by only this. There’s almost no oxygen he breathes in, by the pace Marco is going, like a fucking wild dog. Unlike the poor puppy Marc picked up to pamper a year ago.
His eyes roll back when Marco finally gives a final thrust, his throat fully accommodating the intrusion. He can feel the thick white fluid pouring inside and he can only give in to the pleasure and cry. His tears are falling on the lenses then Marco’s pubis, adding the wetness of his spit on the hair there. Strings of whimpers are heard from above him, along with his name chanted again and again.
He can die like this. Willing and pliant—choking on his lover’s cock.
Marco pulls out slowly, and as if that wasn’t enough—Marc grabs his cock again to jerk it off on top of his face, milking everything Marco possibly still has left. Oversensitive, he can only succumb to the act, ropes of come paints Marc’s red lips, pretty nose, and the black frame glasses white. With that, they’re now both left out of energy, heavily panting. Marc lets his head fall on Marco’s thigh, beside his already softening dick. He kisses it, smiling at his exhausted lover. The whole scene’s just filthy and obscene.
Marco will need to buy a new pair of glasses after this. Or maybe two.