Six words; Detective Abe. Is. A. Power. Bottom. (Please I’m begging you to write something about him ;-;)
Wilford was a mess when he looked like this. Hair plastered to his face, lips red from being bitten and teased, red marks littering his neck and chest that Abe knows is going to look wonderful when they turn into a wonderful purple to match the man’s famous pink look.
His arms were handcuffed behind his back, but they both knew that didn’t matter. What mattered was the intention, and the threats Abe had laid into him when he’d first cuffed him on the bed in the dirty cell he used for detaining people.
“God, look at you. The great Wilford Warfstache all at my mercy.” Abe rolled a nipple between his fingers, smirking as the other squirmed underneath him, attempting to buck his hips up into Abe to get him to move.
Every thrust earned him a scolding in the form of Abe leaving another harsh mark on his body, the countless ones littering tanned skin showing how much more time Abe had been teasing him instead of riding him.
“Abe...old friend...Please, can’t you see I’m a little desperate?” Wilford tried to play it off, attempting to give an easy smile, but it came off more strained.
“That’s why you keep squirming and ignoring my orders, right?” Wilford didn’t even look ashamed at that, giving an apologetic smile.
“I can’t help it when your ass feels so heavenly.” He grinned and couldn’t help himself as his eyes roamed Abe’s body. “My gun just really wants to shoot a load in you, Abey! Can you play little Willy?”
If looks could kill, Wilford would have never left that manor as the detective gave him a glare that could level a city. “You’re insufferable.” Abe lifted himself up, rolling his eyes before dropping back down, both men groaning in pleasure. “You talk about guns so much, it’s almost like you have a fetish.”
Wilford refused to look him in the eyes, Abe laughing before pausing, really looking at the man. “Seriously? What, you want me to fuck you with a gun or something?”
His eyes widened as he felt Wilford twitch inside of him, the man’s face getting as pink as his hair. “God, you’re such a fucking slut.”
Wilford was about to retort before Abe clenched around him, stealing the words right out of his mouth and turning them into a grunt.
“New rule: you’re not allowed to speak. Every time you say something I hit you.”
Wilford winked, laughing as he thrust his hips up, delighted when he watched Abe squirm. “Is that a promise, detective?”
“That’s a mark and a hit.”
“Oh, Abe, you can’t be seri- ow!”