In hindsight, Monty needs to plan around his and Percy’s inability to keep their hands off each other. So yes, sometimes he makes mistakes and his painstakingly prepared ratatouille takes second fiddle; and no, he won’t make the obvious joke about whose fiddle he’d be playing first instead.
But God, he had no idea Percy would be like this.
“Monty, please…” he whines.
They're still in their clothes, dinner cooling on the table in front of him as Monty holds onto Percy's hips from behind and grinds into him.
Monty’s moans are muffled into the back of Percy’s shirt, “Percy.” He rolls his hips forward, again and again, almost manic with it. “Percy.”
Percy rests on his palms on the table, and the angle lets Monty rut against him so sweetly. Not to mention the way Percy’s pert arse is rolling back against him. The friction is hell on his nerves and he's sure he could come from this, Percy keening in his arms, arse nothing short of desperate.
“Percy, baby, do you want to come?”
Percy nods his head, arse unrelenting.
Monty reaches a hand to press against the fly of his jeans and Percy groans. “Like this?”
A moment passes, Monty's hand working at Percy's cock through his jeans, counterpoint to his hips against Percy’s clothed arse. Percy shakes his head.
“How?” he squeezes Percy's front, “How do you want to come?”
“You. Want you inside me,” Percy breathes.
He ruts against Percy a few more times to take the edge off, the pure want in Percy’s voice almost crumbling his resolve.
Percy straightens himself and turns around. Monty’s heart just about hammers out of his chest at the half-dazed look in Percy’s eyes, his eyes almost black with lust. He can't help but press a gentle kiss to Percy’s mouth. The gentle part is soon thwarted when Percy opens for him and their tongues slide over each other’s. Percy sucks on his tongue, hands lowering to grab Monty’s arse and a pleasure so electric crackles up his spine when he feels their cocks against each other through layers of denim.
He tears his mouth away from Percy’s, and Percy looks so thoroughly undone, Monty wants to see how much more he can unspool him. Percy deserves the world, and the world deserves to keep Percy horny and happy forever.
He swiftly drops to his knees, undoing Percy’s belt and fly and shoving all this stupid fabric down until there's nothing between his face and Percy’s thick cock in front of him.
Monty's mouth waters.
A gentle hand runs through his hair and he turns his head to see Percy gazing down at him. A few loose curls fall forward, swaying as soft breaths puff against them. There’s nothing but unadulterated lust written in his face.
He tugs Monty’s hair and Monty complies. His mouth kisses down Percy’s length, and he's encouraged to lick his way back up when Percy lets out soft swear. He repeats his antics a few times before the hand in his hair tightens, and Monty, being the gracious host he is, firmly closes his mouth around the head and sucks.
“Monty,” Percy groans.
He sucks and sucks just a little more, tonguing the slit, before moving to bob his head up and down the length. He pushes the underside of Percy’s cock with his tongue so that the head rubs against the roof of his mouth with every motion, and he's never considered himself a cockslut before but he's a veritable whore for the taste of Percy’s cock.
He moans with Percy in his mouth to tell him as much and Percy’s hips pump deeper into him. But Monty remembers Percy’s request and pulls off, enjoying the desperate cry it wrenches from Percy as his cock twitches against empty air, shiny with pre-come and Monty's spit.
He looks up, still on his knees. “You wanted me inside you?”
“What?” Percy, bless him, has his eyes shut, trying to regulate his panting. Monty won't have any of that tonight.
“You said you wanted to come with me inside you, remember?” he turns Percy to face the table and tells him, “Well, then. Bend over.”
Percy does as he's told and folds over onto the table. Monty shuffles forward. His knees are definitely bruised by now but it's worth it for the view his vantage point allows him. He runs his hands up Percy's spread thighs to cup his buttocks. He pulls them apart to reveal Percy’s hole.
“Fuck, Percy,” he whispers.
He licks a stripe up his crease. He does it again and again, starting at his perineum and sliding across his hole before finishing halfway up his crease.
“Monty,” Percy keens. He pushes his arse back as Monty slides his tongue over his tight furl. “Get inside me.”
He pats Percy the bum in acknowledgement, but keeps licking at his own leisurely pace.
Percy turns to glare at him. His gaze is hot and his tone is commanding. “Now,” he says.
Monty obeys. He pries Percy’s buttocks apart and mouths his hole. He can hear Percy’s head thud to the table, a half-yelp echoing against the tabletop. Monty works his tongue in and nothing, nothing, could tear him away short of universal apocalypse. Even then, that's pushing it.
He pushes his tongue in more, trying to get as deep as he can in Percy, hungry for Percy in every conceivable way. It's humid with his face buried in Percy’s arse, but he doubles his efforts and thrusts his tongue in and out, moaning when Percy’s arse starts back up again, thrusting back to chase his tongue.
“Fuck, that mouth of yours, Monty,” his hips are thrashing back wildly, “You love eating my hole, don't you? Do you love the way I taste, baby?”
God above, Monty is not going to last with Percy like this. He holds Percy’s hips still and puts his neck into it, fucking Percy with his tongue.
“Yeah, just like that. Get me slick with your spit so I can come on your cock later.” He reaches a hand back to grip at Monty's head, pushing him deeper into his arse and Monty loves it, he loves it.
A few more moments pass before Percy's pushing him off and, Monty, being horny out of his mind, finds himself turned and manhandled onto his back on the table. Percy's hands are undoing his clothes in a rush, and Monty helps by tugging Percy's shirt off before throwing off his own. They kick both of their jeans and pants off to the side and Monty’s about to make stupid jibe about laundry day when Percy shuts him up by putting his mouth on Monty’s cock and sucking him down to the root.
His hands scramble for purchase before holding onto Percy’s shoulders. Percy’s usually one to tease until Monty has tears leaking out of his eyes, but there's none of that now, Percy’s lips around his cock dragging up and down at a brutal pace.
Monty yells when he feels the head of his cock hit Percy’s throat, and Percy, being the death of him, brings his head down and up and down and up again and again, deepthroating Monty like his life depends on it.
“I'm so close,” Monty gasps, trying to quell the movement of hips, “Percy, you've got to stop, I'm too close--”
Percy doesn't listen.
“Please, Percy, please. I want to come inside you,” Monty begs, “Let me come inside your arse, Percy, baby--”
Finally, Percy pulls off. He wipes his mouth and nose, and he has to work his mouth a couple of times before his voice comes out, croaky and used.
“I am going to ride you until you scream.”
Monty’s breath promptly deserts him. Percy climbs onto the table and positions himself on top of Monty. He’s upright on his knees, giving Monty's cock a rough jerk or two before guiding it to his opening and sinking down— so tight without being properly fucked open by fingers, with nothing but Monty’s tongue—
“Percy,” Monty moans. “Percy, Percy, Percy.”
He knows nothing beyond Percy and the tight heat that envelopes his cock. Knows nothing but the unrelenting pressure as Percy bottoms out, hands planted on Monty's chest, thumbs idly scraping his nipples. All he knows is torn out of him in a wild moan, his voice high and hoarse—
“Percy, fuck, move, baby. Ride me, bounce on my cock. You are so unbelievably tight around me, so fucking hot.”
Percy’s hands move to brace himself against the table and he lifts his arse. Monty watches as his flesh clings to Monty’s cock, and then Monty watches as he drops back down with a loud groan.
“It feels so good, Monty,” Percy’s voice is wrecked, “Gonna ride you so good.”
And he does just that, gradually moving faster and faster, Monty's hips rising to meet him at every thrust. The sounds that fill the kitchen – Monty knows he’ll never be able to make tea in here without hearing the wet slap of Percy’s arse against his cock, without hearing Percy whining and panting.
His thighs must be burning but he continues screwing himself down onto Monty, his mouth open and wanton, eyes closed as he chases his bliss. He grips Percy’s hips, slams him down.
“Faster, Percy, faster.”
Percy lets out a whine and opens his eyes. A bead of sweat drops onto Monty’s chest as he leans forward, bracing himself on his palms, and slams back down, jackhammering his hole onto Monty’s prick.
“Fuck!” Percy yells. “Fuck me harder, Monty!”
Monty plants his feet on the tabletop and thrusts and thrusts and thrusts. The table drags across the floor as they fuck into each other. How he’ll eat anything without sporting a hard-on at this table, Monty doesn’t know, but it's worth it for the way Percy is bouncing on him without a care in the world, both of them crazed in the slick hot friction.
Percy drops onto his forearms, his arse furiously pounding back onto Monty, and he yells at the change in angle.
“There, right there. Fuck— yes—”
Monty can't breathe, can't think, can't feel anything else and they keep fucking into each other, Percy’s arse hot around him as he pounds down again and again and –
The table creaks and groans, and the end they're currently bearing down on with the force of their fucking collapses. Percy moans as they fall down, Monty still buried in his hole, hitting him deep inside, but he's still moving, still riding Monty among cutlery and plates and a mess of food.
“Don't stop, Monty, don't fucking stop—”
Monty obeys, like an animal in heat, hands holding onto Percy's hips to fuck him down onto him. Percy is beautiful above him, hair bouncing wildly, skin gleaming with sweat as he jacks his arse up and down on Monty’s cock.
“Do you want to feel me come around your cock, Monty? Wanna feel my hole tight around you?”
Monty whines. He nods.
Percy's still moving wildly, despite the pieces of broken table surrounding them.
“Didn't hear you there.” He wraps a hand around his cock, moving up and down.
Monty swallows. “Yes, Percy, come on me, I wanna feel you come, riding me, splitting your hole open on my cock.” Percy's hand speeds up, his face creasing in concentration, “Please, Percy, I want to see you come. Please—”
Hot stripes of come hit Monty's stomach. Monty moans at the feeling.
“Yes, yes— fuck, Monty.” his hips are still grinding against Monty, cock still pumping out come, “Feel my arse around your cock? Do you like it, baby? Like my arse squeezing your cock as I come?”
Monty moans “yes, yes, yes, Percy” as Percy’s arse flutters around his prick.
Percy leans down, his breath hot in Monty’s ear. “Then fill me up, Monty. Come for me.”
And Monty does. He feels the whine building in his throat as he comes and comes, and it tears out of him in a long hoarse yell he almost doesn't register as his own. He's screaming, he realises.
His hips pump wildly up into Percy, mouth pouring out a litany of fuck, Percy, yes and he faintly hopes the neighbours are out of town as he shouts the roof down. Hell, he hopes the entire town is out of town, given how loud Percy’s got him. He fills Percy up, gets inside him and fills him up so well.
His thrusts finally slow and he comes around to Percy against his chest, his soft voice in his ear.
“So good for me, Monty, you were so good.”
“Percy,” Monty pants.
He feels like he’s just run a marathon, chest heaving, sticky with come and sweat. Monty shifts his legs, trying to get comfortable. Percy’s weight against him is similarly warm and sticky on top of him.
“Might need to get off me now, darling,” he says. Fuck, he sounds debauched.
They both look it, too. They’re surrounded by complete chaos because they were too crazy fucking each other.
Percy groans as he moves off Monty’s cock, come trailing out of him. “You need to tell me to calm down sometimes.” He winces as he collapses beside Monty, “I’m going to be feeling this for days.”
Monty smirks. “Like I’d want to deprive myself of that. ‘My hole tight around your cock’?” he repeats coyly. He turns to face Percy, whose cheeks are blooming a shy flush, and wetly mouths at his ear. “What did I do to deserve a crazed minx like you?”
“Drive me insane?” Percy looks so adorably embarrassed, Monty gives in to the urge to rain kisses on his forehead, the freckles under his eye, his nose. “You’re such a nuisance, I don't know how I put up with you.”
Monty presses a soft kiss to Percy’s mouth. “Please, you love me.”
There’s a brief moment where uncertainty grips Monty but Percy leans into him and succinctly dissolves his fears with his lips on Monty’s. Their kiss is as gentle and searing as a sunrise, and when they part, Monty feels like everything within him has fallen into place, gravity returning them to where they belong.
Percy smiles at him. “You love me, too.”
Monty would give him the moon and stars if he asked, physics be damned.
“So,” he waves a hand around them, “Do you want to help clean the mess you made of my kitchen?”
Percy blanches, like he finally notices the demolition around him. “We broke the table.”
“And some plates."
"I made all this mess riding your cock?”
"It was a team effort, I should say."
“Hmm.” He trails a hand through the drying mess on Monty’s stomach. “I think we should clean ourselves up first, don’t you think?”
It’s safe to say the toiletries and shower shelving don’t fare any better either.