kersen | Michael

Michael

Kersen had kept Michael at least somewhat informed about how things were going with Bonnie, over a phone phone calls. But he hadn't felt comfortable having Michael come to the house, and it was a few days before he felt comfortable leaving her there alone. But... as far as he could guess, she was just going to stay in bed crying.

He told Michael to meet him at the bar. He spent some time getting things in order, trying not to let on to his employees in what bad shape he was in.

But he was relieved as hell as soon as Michael walked in. He wanted to run over and throw himself into his arms - but that would be bad for many reasons. So instead he just gestured for Michael to follow him back to his office.

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And... it was perfect. Kersen was indeed out of his mind. He didn't even realize when he started saying Michael's name, in whispers and moans.

Michael kept it up, moving the plug in increasingly wider motions, so pleasure would build, with the intention of stopping just in time, once again.

"Michael," Kersen moaned. "Oh god..." He found himself writhing a little, which only made his body spark more, and finally he started to feel himself lose control. "Oh god stop, stop..."

"Don't move," Michael told him, shifting so he could use his other hand to still Kersen's hips. "Focus. Do it for me." The movements of his other hand slowed, becoming less excruciating, but he trusted Kersen to hold for a few seconds more, wanting to push him as far as he could.

Kersen exhaled deeply as he stilled his body, and looked into Michael's eyes, focusing himself there. He whimpered, but maintained control.

"You're doing great," Michael assured him once again, keeping eye contact. He gradually pushed the plug more strongly onto his prostate, paying close attention to Kersen's responses. When one whimper seemed particularly urgent, he stilled his hand and shifted back to Kersen's side to stroke the side of his face. "I've got you. Fight it off. For me."

"Y-y-yes," Kersen managed, still looking at Michael. And his whole body shuddered as he fought it off. "Oh god, Michael..." He felt like he was come from a soft breeze at this point.

"I've got you," Michael assured him, not moving the plug an inch for now. For now. "I've got you, you've only got to focus." He kept assuring him that things would be all right for a short while, letting Kersen settle down. "I'm going to take it out now," he warned him, even as he pulled the plug out of him, leaving him temporarily empty.

Kersen gasped a little as he took it out and then said breathlessly, "I want you inside me, please."

"I've got you," Michael assured him, even as he'd moved away to grab the lube and coat his erection with it. He lined himself up then pushed in, hooking one of Kersen's legs over his arm. He stilled once he was inside, dipping his head to claim Kersen's lips in a rough kiss. "Mine," he told him, voice dark, eyes hard. He was more like himself now than he had been, and he pulled his hips back, then forward again, slowly pushing into Kersen when all he wanted was to shove into him.

"Yours," Kersen gasped automatically. He didn't even need to think. Which was good, because he really couldn't think of anything but the way his body felt and trying not to come.

For now, Michael kept up a slow, steady rhythm, wanting Kersen to feel every inch of him. It demanded a lot of self-control on his part, but that thankfully wasn't a problem.

"Michael please...." Kersen gasped, and he wasn't even sure what he was asking, for a moment, but then realize... "Will you untie my hands, I want to be holding you when you come - "

Michael didn't really think about it; he reached up and undid Kersen's ties with the one hand, braced on the other one as he temporarily stopped moving. Once Kersen's hands were free, he caught his lips in another possessive, complicated kiss as he took up moving.

Kersen immediately wrapped his arms around Michael, clutching at him as it pulled his body even closer. Now the please lingering on his lips was a plea for something else - as Michael pushed inside him, even with his cock untouched between him, he felt as if he could come with just a word.

Every sound that poured from Kersen's lips only added to the moment, to knowing that he had managed, that he had pushed Kersen into the very state of mind he had hoped to achieve - or close enough. He trusted that Kersen could be more desperate yet; there was an edge missing to his pleas, an urgency that was still lacking. So Michael gradually picked up the force of his thrusts, trusting, from past experience, that it would provide Kersen with the last thing he needed. "How desperate are you?" he muttered roughly against his ear, driving into him again and again, merciless and loving all at once.

Kersen moaned again, and it did sound more desperate this time, like a wordless plea. "M-michael," he managed, and his fingers curled in at Michael's back, nails digging slightly into his skin. "Please, I - oh god please. I don't know how much longer I can - " He moaned again.

"You can," Michael assured him darkly, his own voice strained as his hips pumped into Kersen. "You are. For me, Kersen."

If he could still use sentences, then he wasn't desperate enough.

Kersen cried out then, sounding almost pained. He could feel his body shaking underneath Michael. Then he moaned again. "Please..."

"A little longer," Michael told him, wanting him further gone, much further gone than this. His pace was relentless, and it was an effort for him not to come yet, too, but Kersen would come first - if only so the sweet clench of his body might drag Michael into orgasm right after him.

Kersen moaned again, and then made a sound that was nearly a sob.

Michael drove a few more such sounds out of him, until he was certain that he had fucked Kersen into incoherency, then dipped his head to whisper into his ear, "You can come now."

Whatever string of Kersen's willpower had been holding him together, those words made it snap immediately. As the orgasm ripped through him he practically screamed, nails drawing blood from Michael's back.

The pain didn't distract Michael from the moment, far from it; it only added to it, and he pumped fiercely into Kersen until he too, could follow over the edge and come with a choked, rough cry. He gradually slowed down, thrusts turning lazy and gentle, until he came to a halt, breathing hard and having definitely broken into a sweat. He pressed his face to the side of Kersen's, breathing against his skin.

Kersen couldn't have spoken even if he'd wanted to. He was so spent that he wasn't even reacting (much) to the scent of Michael's blood in the air.

But it wasn't just spent, he felt... cleansed somehow. He felt a sob forming at the back of his throat and did his best to hold it back.

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