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“Yeah.” He slid his fingers over Fillion’s body, tracing pecs and delts and abs, skirting the sensitive little nips and coming back to tease them again, then to pinch them.
Fillion was beautifully responsive, eyes focused on him, lips parted and wet.
Oh, his boy was stunning. Every single inch.
Bending, he took one of Fillion’s nipples into his mouth and sucked. That earned him a cry and a buck of Fillion’s hips, Fillion’s eyes rolling back in his head.
It was time to move this to the bed so his boy didn’t fall. He picked Fillion up and laid him down on the mattress.
Fillion stretched out like he was unfurling under the sun, and it was beautiful to see.
Leaning down, Rome undid Fillion’s belt. He was eager to see every inch of his boy without anything in the way. The sweet prick was hard, long and thin and red-tipped.
Needy boy. Lovely needy boy.
He stood there, admiring his boy as he pulled off his own clothing. He didn’t tease, but he didn’t speed through it either, letting Fillion look his fill.
“You’re so fine,” Fillion moaned. “Beautiful.”
“I was just thinking the same about you.”
“Me? No. I’m not pretty like you.”
“No, we have entirely different body types. You are beautiful in an entirely different way.” He climbed onto the bed. “You’re lean and fine, and you make me ache, deep inside.”
Fillion’s entire body seemed to flush, going warm against him.
He let Fillion take most of his weight, letting his boy feel how much he wanted and needed their connection, their lovemaking. Then he kissed Fillion, tongue pushing deep, tasting him inside.
His boy opened and let him in all the way, the soft moan filling his lips. Holding onto Fillion’s hip with one hand, he propped himself partially up with the other. Each kiss led to the next, his hips moving, sliding their bodies together. Fillion felt so good against him, warmth and silk.
Fillion wasn’t scared to touch him either, fingers dancing on his skin.
It made him groan and hum, every touch stoking the fire inside him. He deepened the kisses, his fingers tightening on Fillion’s hip.
“Want you, Daddy. I’m empty.”
“I’ll fill you up, boy. I promise.” He pushed his nose into Fillion’s neck and breathed in deeply, then latched on and sucked up a mark. He wanted everyone who saw his boy to know he’d staked a claim.
Fillion’s chin lifted, and he sighed, long and slow.
Rome rumbled a little, the sound almost a growl, pleased with Fillion’s response. His. His boy. He slowly pulled away, admiring the lurid mark already worked up.
Fillion panted, his body rolling, bucking restlessly. “Daddy…”
“I’ll give you what you need,” he promised. What they both needed.
He reached up for a condom and the lube, setting them within easy reach for when they got there.
“Yes, Daddy. What we need. I want to make you happy.”
“The feeling is absolutely mutual.” It was a good goal, making each other happy. Satisfied. Fulfilled.
Fillion teared up, but the smile was beautiful.
He moved back in for another kiss, sliding one hand across Fillion’s chest to rub Fillion’s sensitive little nips.
They drew up immediately, firming in a heartbeat, begging for more. He was happy to give it, plucking at them, pinching them. He could have rings put in them. Fillion would never forget they were there.
