legs lay crossed in bare sand ( to hell with towels, he boastfully called before, as a lavender beach towel, embroidered with a massive gold M, blew down to blue waters ). he does not turn nose up from book, perhaps for fear that any movement could cause massive sunglasses, perched at tip of nose, to make like beach towel and end in the sea. ❛❛ it’s VITAL to remember how beautiful we are…. on the outside. ❜❜
Trevor sighed audibly, his warm breath ghosting over Michael's neck where his lips had just been attached. He pulled back and glared at his best friend's flushed face.
"What does it look like?" he deadpanned, resisting the urge to smack Michael upside the head. He wasn't sure what else sucking on another guy's neck could possibly mean, but Mikey obviously thought otherwise.
"'Gay as shit'?" repeated Trevor, still in that deadpan voice. He rolled off Michael and scooted to his side of the squeaky motel bed. Michael barely resisted the urge to grab his collar to keep him from taking his warmth away. "So sucking your dick is perfectly okay–nothin' wrong with shooting a load of jizz in your bud's mouth, right?–but kissing you on the fucking neck is gay as shit?"
"Hey," Michael began defensively, holding his hands up, "I said 'no homo'."
"Well that makes it perfectly fucking okay, then!" snapped Trevor in a mocking voice. He cleared his throat and, in a poor imitation of Michael, squealed, "Hey, Trevor, jerk me off, no homo! Hey, Trevor, stick your ass in the air and let me shove my cock in, no homo! Hey, Trevor, take a face-full of my cum, but no homo! No homo, Trevor, but I really wanna make out and rub our cocks together till we both orgasm! Let me taste your dick, Trevor, but no homo! LET'S FUCK EVERYDAY WITHOUT CONDOMS BUT NO FUCKING HOMO!"
Trevor predatorily drew closer, jabbing Michael’s chest after each exclamation. Spittle flew from his mouth but he didn't care. Now he had Michael pinned against the headboard with a shaking hand pressed roughly against his throat.
Michael tried to shove him away, but Trevor held on.
"I beg to differ, M," he growled lowly, really up in Michael's stunned face now. Their noses touched, breaths met. "But I have a feeling there's a bit of homo in our relationship."
Michael bit his lip. He remained silent as he stared Trevor down, never once looking away from those crazed brown eyes. Finally he shook his head.
"No homo," he repeated, just as he threw his arms around Trevor's neck and pulled him down for a long, heartfelt kiss.
No homo, he thought, as he ripped Trevor's clothes from his body and ran his hands up and down that frustratingly toned torso.
No homo, he thought again, as he stripped sensually for Trevor, who then flipped their position and gave him an enthusiastic lap dance.
No homo, he thought desperately, as he rolled to his back and spread his legs for his partner-in-crime. He moaned as Trevor stuck a slick finger in his opening, then two, then three.
No homo! his mind screamed, while Trevor simultaneously stretched his hole and jerked him off, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
No–, he mentally began, but the last word was drowned out by the heated groan that left his lips as Trevor slowly pushed in, wearing that handsomely determined look on his sinful face.
Michael threw his head back, breathless, and embraced the pleasure Trevor generously gave him.
