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You’re No Good for Me (But You’re The Only One I See)

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Of course they end up here.

 

That kiss—that incredible fucking kiss ignites desire that Michael can’t—won’tignore. 

 

Nothing else matters but chasing the pure pleasure that heats his blood at the feeling of Alex’s lips on his. Michael backs Alex against the edge of the bed, gives him a light shove, tipping him down onto the bed. Michael drags a deep breath as his hands curl around the sweat damp collar of his v-neck before he strips it over his head and discards it to the floor in a messy heap. Alex stares at him from the mattress, watching him with a naked hunger as Michael goes for his belt. A hunger that echoes in Michael’s chest. 

 

Alex’s hands move to his belt, begins to work it but that hunger has made Michael needy, damn near greedy as he lowers himself onto Alex, mouth claiming his in another kiss. Alex abandons working on his belt and holds him tight. Eventually their hands find their way down to Michael’s belt and get it undone. Frantic desperation get Michael onto his feet, undressing impatiently.

 

Once he’s naked, Michael climbs on top of Alex again, mouth eager to taste his lips again. Alex’s calloused finger tips scratch across his skin, leaving fire in their wake. Michael may not be human but the need for contact, for touch is something both species share.

 

Michael nips at the tender column of Alex’s throat, traces his racing pulse with his tongue. As good as it feels to have the contrast of Alex’s clothes against his naked skin, he needs more. Craves that feeling of naked skin to naked skin. Michael maneuvers them into a sitting position and up off the bed.

 

Grabbing a fistful of Alex’s shirt, Michael pulls it over his head and throws it across the room. His eyes flick down, finding the once smooth skin of Alex’s abs and the top of his hip marred by scars on the right side of his body. Michael traces the marks where they flare out, looking like a phoenix’s wing to where they disappear underneath the waistband of Alex’s jeans. Alex’s body stiffens under Michael’s exploration.

 

“We can stop—“ Alex interjects, “If…that…if I make you uncomfortable.”

 

Uncomfortable? Michael’s head snaps up sharply. “Why would I be uncomfortable? Because you have scars? Because you’re missing part of your leg?” His words come out a challenge, tinted with an anger that feels all too familiar at the thought of Alex pushing him away like all those years ago. 

 

“Yes.” Alex’s voice comes out hushed, his dark eyes waver for a second but it’s enough for Michael to get a clear picture of why Alex chose those words. Knows he’s not the first; knows that it has been an issue with somebody else.

 

Michael slides his hand into the front of Alex’s jeans and yanks him forward. The denim chafes at his bare skin, adding a tantalizing friction as Alex collides into him. “I’m not most men, Manes.” He hisses softy, “You made it back.” To me. He almost says the two words on his tongue but knows that it’s his last line of defense; that last bit of ground he can cling to for safety, saying them out loud would leave him naked in a way that he’s not ready for, “That’s what matters.” 

 

Before Alex can say another word, offer another superficial protest, Michael kisses him again and pours all the lust, the need into it. For all his vast vocabulary, he can’t find a word to name how Alex makes him feel. His fingertips undo the button of Alex’s jeans and pull down the zipper, careful not to catch Alex’s erection. After sliding the jeans down Alex’s hips, Michael navigates him over to the bed. Alex settles onto it heavily, his eyes never leaving Michael as Michael sinks to his knees in front of him. 

 

Michael unlaces Alex’s boots and slips them off, tossing them carelessly behind him, not giving a shit where they land. He works down Alex’s jeans next with more care, not wanting to damage the prosthetic. Alex works his boxers down until Michael can strip them the rest of the way off. Now that Alex is finally naked, Michael rises to his feet and takes him in. Alex is more muscular than he had been, harder in places where he had been soft. The raised, red scars go all the way down, sloping over his hip, wrapping around his thigh and knee. The metallic prosthetic finishes the rest of his leg, in the absence of flesh and bone.

 

“Does it hurt?” Michael wants to punch himself for even asking.

 

“Sometimes.” Alex answers as he slipped the appendage off and sets it next to his crutch, “I hope this doesn’t kill the mood.” 

 

That brings a laugh. Michael looks down at his dick, still hard, ready. He takes it into his palm and works it in slow rhythm. “I’m doing just fine. Don’t you agree?”

 

Alex nods, eyes not leaving Michael’s dick. “Nice to know that not much can kill your boner still.” 

 

“Oh, fuck off.” Michael groans and grabs Alex around the waist, hauling him further up on the mattress and settling himself on top of him. 

 

A groan built up in Michael’s chest, spilled past his lips at the touch of Alex’s skin against his, his hard body under his. His cock against his. Michael kisses Alex until his lips are swollen and he’s gasping for breath. Michael makes his way lower; kissing, sucking, nipping at Alex’s skin. Reacquainting himself with the spots that make Alex’s hips jerk, drawing moans and quiet curses. Michael pauses between his thighs, rolling his eyes up to meet Alex’s as he takes his cock into his mouth.

 

Alex’s hands bury into his curls, tugging enough that it caused a nice burn. Michael moans around Alex’s cock before taking it as far as he could into his throat.

 

“Fuck! Michael!” Alex grits out, fingers tugging hard at Michael’s hair as his head bobs.

 

Michael hums in approval, rutting his own cock against the sheets, needing friction, needing relief. He pulls off Alex’s shaft with a small pop and crawls up his body until their bodies are aligned, so he can rub against Alex’s cock with his.

 

He reaches between their bodies and circles their cocks with his hand, squeezing gently with a grip that makes Alex moan. Michael drinks it from his lips, stealing it as he rocks his hips to get that delicious friction. 

 

Pre-come dripped from Alex’s tip onto Michael’s fingers, slicking his skin. Michael releases their cocks for a moment only to take Alex’s shaft in his palm once more. He strokes his thumb over the flared head, spreading the liquid across the tip. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Michael sucked his fingertips, moaning at the taste. 

 

“Fuck you taste so good.” Michael groans, his eyes locking with Alex’s.

 

Alex’s breath caught in a soft hitch. “You and your dirty mouth. Always such a cock tease.” 

 

Michael lets out a rough laugh. “Won’t be teasin’ for long.”

 

Michael stretches out against Alex, working his cock along Alex’s until all thoughts leave his head and there’s nothing but bliss. He loses himself in Alex, the solid feeling of his body, the perfection of his cock. Fuck, he was getting close, almost embarrassingly fast. It would have been had it been anyone but Alex. Michael grabs their cocks again, pumping them along with the thrusting. Electricity curls up his spine and Michael can feel his orgasm cresting to a hard climax.

 

“Alex!” Michael came with his name on his lip, his come spilling over Alex’s cock, over his hand.

 

“Michael.” Alex grits out, coming as well, coating their shafts, Michael’s fist with shot after shot of come.

 

With a soft groan, Michael collapses beside Alex onto the firm mattress. He brings his fingers to Alex’s lips, a shiver running down his spine as Alex’s tongue swipes over his fingertips. 

 

“Welcome home.” Michael murmurs with a lopsided grin.