Archive of Our Own

"Goddamn it!"

Dennis storms into the apartment, Mac following sheepishly behind. He scurries to the other side of the living room while Dennis slams the door shut, so hard it shakes in its frame.

Mac’s hand flies to the back of his neck and he rubs at the skin there, a sure-fire sign that he’s nervous as shit.

Silence hangs heavy in the air as Dennis scowls at him, blue eyes darkened and jaw ticking in irritation.

“This has to stop, Mac.” He insists angrily. “It’s getting ridiculous.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Mac practically shrieks, the words coming out too fast. “We were drinking and laughing and being bros and—”

“—and you kissed me! Again!” Dennis finishes for him, outraged, and Mac fights back his grimace.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, dude.” Mac gestures wildly with his hands. “I just tripped and fell and—”

“—that’s not going to work.” Dennis deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not again. You can’t keep using the I tripped and fell on your lips excuse. It’s just pathetic.”

Mac's nose scrunches up, his expression twisting into something forlorn. His skin starts to crawl, everything pulsing hotter and burning brighter than before. Panic grips at him as he tries to search for a way out, a way to bury this so they never have to speak of it again... again.

"Just forget it, man." Mac shrugs, feigning nonchalance, as he moves over to the kitchen. He flings the fridge door open, momentarily letting the cold air calm his frayed nerves, as he grabs two beers.

Dennis is eerily quiet as Mac flicks the tops off the Coors bottles. He places one on the table, gesturing for him to take it, while he gratefully takes a swig of the other.

"I don't want to forget it. I want it to stop."

Mac lets out a disbelieving breath.

"You're being dramatic."

"Goddamn it." Dennis mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes to the sky and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I couldn't give less of a shit that you're gay. I've known it my whole life. I'm happy that you've come to terms with it. Truly, I am. But, newsflash dude, I'm straight. I don't want you touching me."

"I know!" Mac rolls his eyes, embarrassment pooling in the pit of his belly. After the dance at the prison and coming out to his Dad, he thought all those repressed feelings of shame and guilt were a thing of the past. He hates that Dennis is the one person who can bring them all back, hurtling painfully to the surface. "You're beginning to sound like a broken record, dude."

Dennis' eyes flash, pupils blown to black, and Mac knows immediately that it was the wrong thing to say.

"Stop fucking kissing me then!" He explodes. "Stop looking at me like I'm a meal and you haven't eaten in weeks! Do you think I don't notice? The way you pine after me when you think I'm not looking? How you follow me around like a lost puppy? Jesus Christ, if I just bang you, get it goddamn over with, will that make you stop?"

His speech comes to a rambling end, eyes wide and jaw firmly set.

Mac falls into shocked silence.

He stares at him, jaw dropped to the floor. His mind floods and he can’t make sense of what he’s saying. All he can pick out is one word: bang, bang, bang. It echoes in his brain until he can’t hear anything else.

"Huh?"

Dennis sighs, exasperated.

"You're obsessed with me, Mac. I know it, you know it, we all know it. Whatever, that's fine. Back when you insisted you were straight, I didn't care. You pushed it down and repressed it and it was all a good time. A delicate ecosystem. But now you're out and proud - and again, very happy for you - and you're all over me. So, if you want to, I'll do it. We can bang, just the once, get it out of your system. And then everything can go back to normal."

Mac stares at him, unblinking.

"You..." He pauses for a moment, his entire vocabulary caught in his throat. "You are the most arrogant son of a bitch I've ever met."

"Yeah, yeah." Dennis shrugs easily, like this isn’t news to him. "Are we doing this or not?"

Mac splutters through his denial.

"Not! You're being ridiculous! And delusional! And an asshole! I am not going to bang you, Dennis."

Mac Bangs Dennis

"So, how is this going to work?"

Mac lasts a solid 4 minutes 38 seconds before he comes round to Dennis' plan.

He thinks about putting up a bigger fight, but Dennis has always been able to read his mind. He’s known since they were teenagers that he finds him attractive, has always been bewildered by his body’s response to him. He’s always used it to his advantage, expertly playing him like an instrument and winding him tightly round his finger. But now, so he says, it’s started to inconvenience him.

Well, that’s fine. It just means Mac will finally get what his resistant mind has been longing for since they were fifteen years old.

Damn it, who is he to say no? Why is he saying no? He snaps into action almost immediately, game face on.

Dennis is pacing, brows knitted in concentration.

"Well, I don't know about you, but as soon as I bang a chick, any interest I may have had in her is long gone." He shrugs. "It's like this weird thing. Anyway, I'm almost certain the same will apply here. We'll bang, you'll get it out of your system and no longer find me irresistible and I won’t have to put up with you trying to kiss me every five minutes."

Mac rolls his eyes, grabbing another two beers from the fridge and slamming them down on the kitchen table. He uses more force than probably necessary and doesn’t miss the way Dennis grimaces, probably concerned he’s going to dent the shitty wood. What a neurotic freak, he is.

He sits down again opposite him, easily flicking the top off.

If they’re going to continue down this road, he definitely needs to be drunk.

"Okay. 1) I do not find you irresistible." He sniffs. "I'm merely... intrigued. Look dude, you know you're hot. You spend enough goddamn time on your appearance, you don't need me to fluff your ego. But irresistible is totally dramatic. 2) I do not try to kiss you every five minutes. Again, dramatic. And 3) what do you mean you're pretty sure the same applies? I really don't want this to go tits up and we never speak again. I don't want to ruin our friendship."

Dennis' expression remains stoic but he tips a brow as he takes a sip of his own beer.

"Dude, if carry on the way we're going, the friendship's going to be ruined anyway. You coming out had a monumental effect on the group dynamic. We all have to shift accordingly."

"How are you seriously making me coming to terms with my sexuality about you? You have, like, a talent for that, bro. Not everything in the world is about you."

"It should be." Dennis shrugs, looking confident and smug and entirely too attractive. "Everything in your world should be about me."

Mac pauses, suspended in disbelief. "You're unbelievable."

"Well, I know that. I'm trying to let you in on the secret."

Mac's gaze flies to his hands, where they rest on the table. He wrings them nervously, feeling his palms turning increasingly clammy.

Goddamn, he’s nervous.

"Nothing will change?" He asks quietly. "You promise?"

"Only for the better." Dennis sends him that signature smirk and Mac doesn’t even realise he’s being conquered.

"And you'll guide me through it?"

Dennis pauses, Coors bottle suspended at his lips. He swallows his mouthful of beer before slowly putting the bottle down.

"Guide you? Mac, I know you've had gay sex before. The walls are unspeakably thin." His face contorts into something ugly, a look of distaste peppered on his features. Mac feels his cheeks blossom into heat.

"Well sure, but..." He pauses, gnawing on his bottom lip as he tries to figure out how to keep this light, "I mean... it's me... and it's you. It's different."

Mac doesn’t want to dwell on the reasons why it’s different. Why no-one makes him feel quite like Dennis does. Why he just always, always wants to be near him and being away from him, even for an hour, makes him feel sick. Why the year he was in North Dakota was the worst year of his life.

All signs point to a four-letter word Mac refuses to name.

Maybe Dennis feels the same, because he tries to brush the words off with an easy flick of his hand - as though he can physically bat them away, stop them from penetrating too deep.

"We'll be in it together." He says finally, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes curling one corner of his mouth. "Like everything else."

Mac swallows, finishing his beer in one long gulp. It scorches down his throat, a pleasant burn that’s so familiar. He needs that; he needs familiar. This is all becoming very real.

Every nerve ending in his body seems to thrum with anticipation as Dennis slowly stands.

"Well. Come on." He holds out a hand, gesturing to the sofa.

Mac's stomach churns.

"Right- right now?" He stammers. "You wanna do it now?"

Dennis rolls his eyes, characteristic impatience flitting over his features.

"No time like the present."

Mac pauses, feeling like he’s standing on the edge of a precipice. He wants to give in; he’s sick of fighting. He’s sick of his emotions, always so confused, nervous energy buzzing through his veins. They crack at his walls and make him feel weak.

He wants to feel, wants his body to take control, forget everything for a little while at least... because it’s him.

It’s Dennis - and he’s all he's ever wanted.

He feels like he’s burning from the inside out. Dennis watches him patiently, that eyebrow still quirked, and it’s scary and exhilarating, like dancing with the devil over an open pit of flames, knowing the only thing that keeps him suspended, keeps him safe, is Dennis' hold on him.

If he lets go, if he stops and pulls away, he'll fall. He'll burn up.

He knows he shouldn't let this happen, shouldn't stay here dancing above the flames. No matter how long it lasts, no matter how high it takes him, it’s going to end. It has to end. Because Dennis is still Dennis - cold and unfeeling and manipulative.

He'll play with him and toss him aside, just like he always does, and this time it will hurt beyond repair because Mac will know what it feels like to really have him.

He’ll sweep through his life again like wildfire, burning up all the good, and all Mac will have to show for it is the barren wasteland.

It’s hard... to look at him and see what’s really there - poison wrapped up in a pretty package. He ruins everything and hating him hurts just as much.

Everything with Dennis hurts.

"You're not gonna make me sign some creepy document first?" Mac asks, a humourless exhale escaping him.

Dennis' mouth twitches and his eyes flicker, before he tips his head slightly.

"No."

Mac stands, knowing his mind has been made up from the beginning. There’s no point resisting. He’s full of nervous energy, excitement fighting for precedence over hesitation.

Dennis smiles slightly at his submission and moves over to the couch. Mac follows him, the way he’s done since they were teenagers, a constant slave to his affection.

"So, how do you want to start?" Dennis asks when they’re standing in-front of the furniture. "It's your fantasy we need to fulfil so... what do you want?"

Mac swallows nervously, that question opening a can of worms. All sorts of debauched images flicker through his mind without his permission and he feels the first spikes of arousal.

"I like kissing."

Dennis clicks his tongue. "No. Nothing with my lips."

Mac frowns, disappointed.

"Fine." He doesn’t push it, even though he knows Dennis would. "Just get me off then, I guess."

"Charming. How?"

Mac rolls his eyes again, crossing his arms over his well-muscled chest. He doesn’t miss the way Dennis' gaze flickers to his biceps, a look of either awe or jealousy flashing through his eyes. He can never tell with him.

"Jerk me off or suck my dick, I don't care."

Dennis' mouth opens slightly, a small, outraged noise falling from his lips.

"Some savoir-faire, Mac. Please." He gestures dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know what that means."

"Finesse!" He practically yells, temper flaring. "Know-how! Sex is about seduction. A game of push and pull. If I just get to my knees and blow you right now..." He scoffs, "...where's the satisfaction in that?"

Mac's mouth suddenly feels very dry.

"I would find that very satisfying." He croaks out eventually.

Dennis sniffs in annoyance before that well-oiled mask is back on. The corner of his mouth quirks deviously and Mac holds his breath - he knows that look. Sure enough, there’s a beat before Dennis lifts his arm, slowly tracing the backs of two fingers down Mac's bicep and feeling goosebumps rise from the skin.

"See?" He murmurs, searching Mac's face. "I'm barely touching you..." He takes a step forward, his other hand coming up to lift his chin. His breath washes over him, so close their mouths are almost touching, and his darkened blue eyes focuses on his lips, "And yet, you're getting turned on... you're warmer... burning hotter. You think you're so tough, Mac. So experienced. But the things I could teach you..."

"Yeah..." Mac breathes, liquid heat pooling in his belly. Dennis' expert fingers continue to trail up and down his arm, electrifying every nerve ending. Mac can’t remember the last time he was so turned on and he’s barely touched him yet. "Fuck, yeah. Teach me."

"You'll be good?" Dennis teases, the fingers of his other hand trailing from Mac's chin down his strong chest until they rest on his belt. Slowly, he unbuckles it, not breaking heated eye contact as he pulls it out the loops. The small clink as it hits the floor is palpable, breaking the tension.

"If you want." Mac replies, not giving a shit. He'll be good, he'll be bad, he'll be anything - just as long as he keeps touching him.

"Sit down."

Even now, while he says this is all for Mac, Dennis can't relinquish control. He has to set the pace and Mac does as he's told, knowing his place, knowing what works. Nerves and arousal and a hundred other emotions he can’t even begin to decipher rush through his blood.

Dennis stands in-front of him, the ice to his fire. He’s calm, collected, and if he notices the tent pitching Mac's pants, he doesn’t say.

He doesn’t say anything - because in the next breath, he’s leaning one knee next to Mac's thigh on the sofa and swinging the other over.

Stunned, Mac sits motionless as his best friend settles in his lap.

"Shit." Mac curses under his breath. He's dreamt about this, one way or another, for too many years to count. And now he’s here, and he can smell him and touch him and feel him and it just doesn’t seem real.

"Uhh… you can touch me." Dennis snorts, eyebrow raised.

“Don’t laugh at me.” Mac bites back and his hands shake.

“I’m not.”

Mac’s hands slowly come to rest on Dennis’ narrow hips. It feels monumental, like the ground might shake and moan and open up at any moment.

Wordlessly, Dennis holds Mac's gaze as he begins to move on top of him. His arms rest on his shoulders, hands looping around his neck to play with the hair at his nape. Mac's eyes flutter shut as Dennis swirls his hips and grinds down. He’s so hard, it’s practically painful but he’s not embarrassed because Dennis is hard too. Their cocks slide against each other, inhibited by rough denim, and lust snaps at Mac's heels when Dennis lets out a little moan.

The noise has his eyes flying open and he stares at him, mouth slightly open. His hands tighten on his waist, pushing him away and pulling him closer at the same time. At the back of his mind, he registers it as a pretty fitting metaphor for their relationship. Dennis spreads his legs wider, the extra room giving him more momentum to grind down harder on Mac's cock.

"Fuck." Mac hisses, his head tilting back against the sofa's edge. His hands are gripping Dennis' lean waist so tight he’s sure he'll leave bruises but neither seem to care. Lost to desire, he drags him over his dick, a wet patch belonging to one of them - or maybe both - forming between them.

"Look at me." Dennis says, his hand forming into a fist in Mac's hair. He tugs his head forward, forcing him to hold his gaze.

Mac bites his lip, forcing himself not to blow his load and ruin this before it’s even begun. Dennis' darkened gaze holds his, pupils blown to black, and his generous mouth is parted, soft pants falling from them. They’re so pouty and shiny, Mac has always loved his lips. 

Fuck, he wants to kiss him.

A bit smug, Mac thinks he looks pretty wrecked for a guy who’s only doing this for him… for a guy who hates his attention so much.

He doesn’t have much time to ponder on it because Dennis is flicking open the buttons on both their jeans. Without warning, he pulls Mac's fly down and slips his hand inside.

Mac's hips buck and another curse falls from his lips as Dennis wraps his hand around his throbbing cock. Squeezing tightly, he pumps in a steady motion, his thumb gathering the pre-cum at the tip.

"Yeah?" He murmurs. "You like that?"

"Fuck, yeah."                                   

"You're so hard for me." He says without a hint of surprise, bottom lip captured between his teeth.

"Always." Mac moans, his brain working without his permission. His eyes fly open but Dennis doesn’t seem to care, his eyes turning to a darker shade of blue.

In-fact, he leans in, his nose rubbing against Mac’s cheekbone. His breath is hot and heavy in his ear as he squeezes him and jerks him and touches him way too expertly for a man who insists he’s straight. His nose nudges his cheek slightly and Mac tips his head to the side, giving him access to his neck.

He kisses just below his ear – soft, peppery kisses that soon turn hot and open-mouthed.

“How long have you wanted this?” He whispers heatedly, tugging his earlobe between his teeth.

“Shut up.” Mac pants in reply, that familiar pressure building in the pit of his belly.

He feels the curve of Dennis’ lips against his neck as he smirks. “That’s it... I want you to come, Mac. Come all over me.”

“Dennis.”

His name is a strangled cry Mac doesn’t mean to make as liquid pleasure rushes through his veins. He does as he’s told, shooting hot and wet and sticky over Dennis’ palm. His hips stutter and his moan is almost a sob, head tipped back and eyes screwed shut.

“Jesus.” He mutters as he comes back down to Earth, tiny aftershocks sparking the length of his spine. He’s still shaking when Dennis stands, wiping his hand on his unbuttoned pants.

He stares up at him, silent for a moment.

“Is that it?” He asks finally – nervously – and he thinks he might cry if he says yes.

“Well, are you cured?” Dennis quirks a brow and his pupils are still dilated. “Do you still want me?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Mac blurts quickly and his stomach twists and drops because he’s pretty sure there will never be a time he doesn’t want Dennis.

He shoves that down and buries it, though; he’s good at that.

“Come on then.”

He tips his chin, beckoning him to follow.

Mac follows him to his room, shutting the door behind him, and he’s nervous all over again. He tries to calm his racing heart with the reminder that he’s been in Dennis’ bedroom a thousand times before – but not when both their pants are undone and they’re both hard and Dennis’ hand is still wet with his come. 

“Top or bottom?” Dennis asks, like he’s trying to work out the logistics of a business transaction.

Mac’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. “Well, top but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t wanna, like, hurt you.” He shifts awkwardly. “It can really hurt the first time.”

“Not my first time.” Dennis answers simply, readjusting a bottle of moisturiser on his dresser so it’s straight.

Mac stares at him, stunned. His skin prickles and burns and suddenly he’s blind with jealous rage.

“What the fuck, dude! Who? What was all that you’re so gross,  I’m so straight bullshit about, then?”

Dennis rolls his eyes, as though he couldn’t be more bored with this conversation.

“I am straight… most of the time. It’s a spectrum, a complicated matter I wouldn’t expect an uneducated heathen like you to understand.”

“Goddamn, you son of a bitch.” Mac mutters, his erection quickly waning. Dennis seems to notice and he sighs, walking over to him and snaking an arm around his waist.

“Relax.” He mutters against his cheek, hand slipping down his back pocket to grab his ass. “I’m gonna make this so good for you, Mac.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dennis tugs at the bottom of his shirt and Mac enthusiastically lifts his arms, helping him to pull it over his head. He sheds Dennis of his too and then they’re chest to chest, skin to skin, and it’s different to that time they wrestled filming Lethal Weapon 6.

There’s nothing playful about this and both Dennis’ hands go to his ass, roughly crashing their hips together, hardening cocks rubbing against each other again.

He sucks at his neck again and Mac groans, before remembering that it’s a soft spot of his. When he watches his tapes, which is often, he always notices the inordinate amount of time Dennis spends kissing the girl’s neck, sucking at her collarbone. It just always seems to get him off.  

That thought brings another sparking to his mind.

“Den.” He gasps, grabbing his hips and pushing him away.

“What?”

Mac glances around the room, feeling uneasy.

“The cameras…” He swallows. “Can we — can you, like — turn them off?”

Dennis frowns, confused.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late to go back in the closet?”

“It’s not that.” Mac shakes his head and gnaws on his bottom lip. “I just—”

I don’t want to be like everyone else, he thinks. I want this to be different.

He doesn’t want to be another nameless face, another notch on his crowded bedpost. One star or five, he doesn’t think he can bear to open his drawer and see a tape marked Mac. He knows how little Dennis gives a shit and he wants to be more.

He knows he can’t say that, so as usual, he lies.

“You know what I’m like, I’ll just be sneaking in to watch it all the time and I’ll keep bugging you to do it again.”

Dennis makes a disgusted sound, the wool pulled over his eyes. Mac thinks he’s not as smart as he thinks he is.

“Yeah, okay. That will be annoying as shit. I’ll turn them off.” He concedes and walks over to the cameras, not forgetting about the ones he has hidden because Mac knows about them too. “Get on the bed.”

Lust sparks at Mac’s heels again at the command. He doesn’t mind doing as he’s told. He worships him like a dog – why not get fucked like one too?

He shimmies out of his jeans and underwear, sitting on the edge of the bed. He's unashamed by his nakedness because he's jacked and hot as shit now and goddamn Dennis if he thinks any different. His hand drifts over the sheets and they’re soft under his palm, much nicer than his own.

He’s just thinking about how he should wash his bedding more often because the cotton feels and smells nice as shit, when he notices Dennis is standing in-front of him.

He falters and glances up, painfully aware that he’s at eye-level with Dennis’ crotch.

His hands travel to the waistband of his jeans and he swears to God, his mouth is watering. He feels drunk on desire and Dennis’ left hand is calmly threading through his hair and he can’t believe there was ever a time he thought he didn’t want this.

“Let me suck your dick.” He says, strangely bold, and Dennis quirks a brow in reply.

He doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t say no either, so Mac yanks his jeans and his briefs down at the same time. Dennis’ cock springs free, hard and glistening with pre-cum, and Mac doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so perfect.

Dennis’ fingers tangle in Mac’s hair while his right hand lazily pumps his cock.

“Open your mouth.” He demands, as if the whole thing was his idea to begin with. He’s so transparent, Mac fights the urge to roll his eyes. He opens his mouth nonetheless and looks up at him through hooded eyes.

Dennis’ cock is heavy on his tongue and he tastes salty and sweet at the same time. Mac moans around him, eyes fluttering shut as he takes him further into his mouth. Dennis’ hand comes up to meet the other until they’re both tangling in Mac’s hair and he tugs slightly, fingernails scratching his scalp and adding to the pleasure.

Mac hums, the vibrations making Dennis shudder. Suddenly, he’s overcome by this frantic need to please him, to show him that he’s good, that he’s worthy, that he can do this. He wants to be better than anyone who’s ever come before. His hands travel to Dennis’ ass and he squeezes and jerks him forward, cock hitting the back of his throat.

Dennis lets out this long, guttural groan and it’s probably the most erotic thing Mac’s ever heard. His own cock feels heavy between his thighs but he focuses on the task at hand, opening his throat and flicking his eyes up to look at him.

“Fuck. You’re so good, Mac.” Dennis babbles, his grip on Mac’s hair tightening, “So good for me.”

Mac hums around him, delighted by the seal of approval. He’s done this before, nameless cocks belonging to nameless faces in the Rainbow's dirty toilets. Back when he was lonely and pathetic and in denial. This is different - he’s never wanted so much to get something right.

He swirls his tongue around the tip before he sucks it. He hollows his cheeks and his hand pumps what his mouth can’t take. He’s watched girls do this to Dennis more times than he can count so he knows what suck, what lick, what kiss will tip him over the edge. He squeezes with the same amount of pressure he likes, and revels in the strangled moan Dennis makes.

“Shit…” His hips stutter and he bats Mac’s hands away. He lets out a little growl, animalistic and utterly male, and Mac doesn’t need words to understand. He keeps his head still as Dennis’ hands clutch tighter and his hips move and he starts to fuck his mouth.

Mac forces himself not to choke, even as tears spring to his eyes. Dennis is relentless, head tipped back and little grunts falling from his lips. Just as Mac feels him twitch and swell in his mouth and prepares himself for the taste, it’s gone.

His mouth slams shut, confused, as he looks up at him.

Dennis’ eyes are dark sapphire, his chest rising and falling with every rapid breath.

“Fuck me.” He demands - when does he do anything but?

Mac doesn’t need to be told twice. Dennis lays down on the bed. His cock rests against his lean stomach, throbbing and almost purple with need, and Mac marvels at his self-control. There’s no way in hell he’d be able to stop a bj when he was that close to coming. But Dennis probably gets off on it, the freak.

He carefully gets on top of him, silently grateful that it’s this position he’s chosen. He really wants to see his face, wants to drink in every expression he makes, even as he refuses to think about what that means.

Dennis is pliant, unhurried and unwilling to show his own eagerness. His tendency to seize power remains, even as his skin glistens with sweat and his limbs seem to shake.

Mac returns his attention to Dennis’ cock, taking it in his hand and giving it a stroke. His thumb caresses the tip, spreading the pre-cum that’s gathered there.

“What are you waiting for?” Dennis inflects. He tilts his head back, his boredom evident, despite the attention his cock is getting. He wants it in his ass, Mac can tell.

“Don’t rush me, dude.” Mac frowns. If they’re only going to do this once, he’s going to make damn sure it counts. He reaches over their bodies to the nightstand, opening the drawer and fetching the bottle of lube he knows Dennis keeps there.

He wets his fingers and, despite his insistence on going slow, traces Dennis’ rim before pushing two inside. He twists them softly.

Dennis hisses, releasing a drawn out breath. His eyes flutter shut as Mac scissors his fingers, slowly pushing in and out. When they open again, Mac’s reminded of why he wanted him on his back in the first place. He's never seen eyes like it. He can’t count the number of times he’s walked into the Rainbow and searched for that exact shade of blue, only to be bitterly disappointed every time.

“You’re so pretty, Den.” He feels the need to say, something akin to awe filling his chest.

Dennis scoffs but shudders at the same time and Mac knows that he’s appreciative of the compliment. His back arches, eyes sliding closed again.

“Are you ready?” He asks and he doesn’t want to be dramatic, but he thinks he might die if he says no.

Luckily, Dennis grunts in response. “Yes. I’ll repeat myself, fuck me.”

Dennis spreads his legs wider, wrapping them around Mac’s thick waist. He arches beneath him, rubbing against him, trying to pull him inside.

“Slow.” Mac mutters dangerously, taking his cock in his hand and lining himself up with Dennis’ entrance. He grits his teeth as he presses into him, the heat and wet inviting him in. His nostrils flare but he only pushes in slightly, giving Dennis time to adjust. He watches his eyelids flutter closed with a feeling akin to worship.

“Shit.” He murmurs, sinking in further, glancing to check his progress. Only half way. “You’re tight as fuck, Dennis.”

“Supposed to be tight, dickhead.” Dennis mumbles, but he reaches for his hands, linking his fingers with his.

Mac balances with his left hand, his right resting next to Dennis’ head, fingers entwined. He begins to thrust lazily, each thrust knocking the breath from his lungs. Dennis hooks his leg more firmly around his hip. Mac eases back, still rocking at a leisurely pace, frowning in concentration.

“Holy fuck…” He breathes. “I’m inside you, Dennis.”

Dennis screws his eyes shut and Mac can’t tell whether he’s angry or turned on. Probably both.

“I noticed.”

Mac thrusts harder now, sharp and shallow. His chest feels tight and his mind floods. It’s all very intense and he looks to Dennis for help, for grounding.

“Is it good?” He asks breathlessly. Dennis’ fingers tighten around his in response.

“Yeah.” His other hand reaches behind him, loosely gripping the iron bars that make up the headboard. “You can go harder though. I can take it.”

“I don’t want to be too rough.” Mac whispers raggedly, “I need to make this last.”

Dennis closes his eyes as Mac continues to thrust, the corner of his mouth tipping into a smirk.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna blow your load already, dude.”

“Might do.” Mac replies through gritted teeth – because being honest and secure in yourself is badass and he’s a total badass.

“Why? Because it’s an ass not a pussy?”

“Because it’s you.”

Something flickers over Dennis’ face – something real – but it’s gone before Mac can fully decipher it.

“Yeah well, you’re thinking too much.” He sniffs. “Maybe you don’t want me that bad—”

Mac thrusts harder, involuntarily, at the thought..

“No one will ever want you more than I do.”

He slams harder into him and Dennis smirks like he’s won a battle. He lets himself fall onto his forearms and increases his pace. Dennis lets out a gasp of triumph and Mac feels it against his lips, their mouths brushing against each other.

“That’s it, baby…” Dennis breathes against his mouth and the pet name has Mac shuddering against him.

The atmosphere blisters as Mac gathers Dennis up, sliding his ankle up to his neck to deepen and intensity the sensation. He pants open mouthed against his calf and bites the inside of his cheek.

“Oh fuck.” Dennis groans at the new angle and Mac’s hypnotised. “Jesus, that’s it — fuck, keep going…”

“Yeah?” Mac slams into him, “Like this?”

“Goddamn it.” Dennis hisses, fisting the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

“You feel so good, Den.” Mac moans, waves of pleasure spiralling tight in his belly. He reaches between them, grabbing Dennis’ swollen cock and pumping it. He fucks him harder, ramming into him, increasingly losing any semblance of rhythm.

Dennis doesn’t seem to mind. In-fact, he curses under his breath and his brows pull together. He gnaws on his bottom lip and it’s shiny and red and goddamn it, Mac wants to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

He settles for rubbing his nose against his sharp cheekbone instead, mumbling nonsensical words of praise. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot. Wanted this for so long. Always wanted you.” He babbles, not caring anymore, “Shit, man…”

Suddenly, Dennis’ body jerks under him and time seems to stand still. He fists Mac’s hair in his hand, pulling his face away from his neck. With an unrestrained growl, Dennis crashes his mouth into his. Just like that, Mac’s world – upside down and out of focus for so long – snaps into place.

Mac closes his eyes and kisses him back. His mouth slants over his furiously, as he pours every feeling he’s had over the past forty years into him.  He’s been broken for so long, shrouded in a fog so thick he can’t remember what it’s like to breathe clean air. His lips press into his, hard and desperate, and he feels happy – stupidly happy – when Dennis moans into his mouth.

His tongue licks along Dennis’ bottom lip, demanding entry. Dennis opens his mouth and their tongues fight for dominance, mimicking the movement of their hips below. It’s a game of push and pull, both fighting to control something that’s never been theirs to control.

“Oh fuck, that’s it.” Dennis breaks away with an audible wet sound, babbling against Mac’s mouth. “Right there, oh fuck baby, right there, I’m gonna—”

Mac grips Dennis’ cock tighter as he comes, fisting streams of it onto his belly and chest. Dennis shutters, eyes screwed shut as his body spasms in the afterglow. His hands grip Mac’s hips, nails carving moon-shaped crescents into his taut skin.

Lost to pleasure and teetering on the edge, Mac retains his pace and Dennis hisses, oversensitive. Mac lets out a grunt and leans down, licking a hot stripe and gathering the come that’s painting Dennis' chest.

“Goddamn...” Dennis mutters, chin tipped forward as he watches him. “That’s hot.”

Mac keeps thrusting until he feels that familiar tightening in his gut. I love you, I love you, I love you. Those three little words burn on his tongue. He fights them back, knowing Dennis has no time for them. He kisses him instead and Dennis swallows his moan as he comes, volcanic pleasure rushing through his veins and eclipsing anything he ever thought was pleasure in the past. White stars explode before his eyes and his vision goes blank, before he collapses against him.

“Oh shit.” He mutters against Dennis’ swollen mouth, body shaking in the afterglow. He pulls out and Dennis winces and he already feels empty.

For a moment, it’s calm, silent - and it’s everything Mac’s ever wanted since he was fifteen…

…except it isn’t.

Because Dennis is tapping his side and telling him to get off and calling him a fat shit and it brings Mac hurtling back to reality.

Mac wants him to come home to him at night. He wants him to crawl into their bed and let him massage his tired shoulders while he tells him about his day, and it’ll be so mundane to everyone else but to him, it’ll be perfect, because it’s normal. He wants him to kiss him when he cries and actually smile at him now and then and hold his hand like they’re fucking teenagers and he wants this to be real.

He wants him to love him.

But it isn’t real. And he doesn’t love him.

So, he pushes him away.

Dennis quirks a brow and folds his arms over his head as Mac stands up.

“I thought you wanted this.”

“I did. I do.” Mac concedes with a whisper. There’s no point lying. He’s already seen straight through him, taken everything. There’s nothing left to hide now. “But you don’t.”

“This is what we agreed, right?” Dennis asks and his voice sounds almost concerned, almost genuine, “We can go back to normal now.”

Mac stares at him for a moment and he doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince. Eventually, he concedes with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah. Of course we can, dude. We’re best friends, we’ll always be best friends.” He mumbles, and he means it, because he’ll take whatever he can get.

There will never be anyone else for him, so he’ll live for that friendship.

It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to be enough.