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Marco might have accidentally driven twenty miles over the town’s designated speed limit in his eagerness to get home. He hadn’t meant to, honestly -- the Eagle Scout in him cringed each time he pressed at the gas peddle, urging his little piece of shit car to go faster, to get him home quicker. But he had needed to be home. He couldn’t very well just control himself, with his hands clamped tight on the steering wheel and mind racing at a mile a minute chalked full of certain pamphlet induced information that hinted at a very specific activity he had had his heart set on for a while now.
Today was the day. He was confident, learned and well read in the verses of pleasing a lover, a lover whose genitalia, honestly, was as foreign to Marco as it could possibly get. But still, he felt ready, felt determined and courageous beyond belief. Today was the day Marco Bodt made Jean Kirschtein squeal and groan in pleasure as Marco gave him the best damn blowjob he had ever had in his entire life. Marco grinned in his car rearview mirror, his face flushed red from anticipation and arousal. Jean was going to be loved like he never had before.
…
It had all started weeks ago -- Marco perusing the internet on his laptop, checking his emails, deleting spam and the like -- when he came upon an email sent to him from Ymir, titled “Have fun”. A bit apprehensive, but curious anyway, Marco brought his cursor to the email, clicking it open. In an instant the speakers of his laptop started to blare obscene moans, panting and groaning. Marco, in a feat of flushed embarrassment, immediately clicked at the pause button on the clip, a porn clip to be exact. Swallowing thick in his throat, the image stopped on the blurry fixed motion of a guys face, throat bared, mouth in mid moan, he bit his lip.
“The fuck, Ymir?!” Marco whined, eye slightly twitching as he tried to comprehend why in the hell his coworker would send him porn… again.
The last time had been purely educational, to help Marco understand the uniqueness and diverseness of Trans men’s bodies, but this, this looked like blatant porn to him. Well, there was only one way to find out now wasn’t there? Huffing, and knowing he would more than likely regret it, he pressed play again, this time lowering his speakers to a normal volume -- as normal a volume as one can get when watching porn.
That was how Marco Bodt became very interested in the workings of preoperative-surgery genitals of Trans men.
…
That film clip had haunted him for days, though instead of the faceless guy in the video, Marco couldn’t get Jean out of his head -- the two toned blond playing lead role in every lust filled thought in the freckled man’s mind. Marco wanted to know what Jean’s moans would sound like as Marco stripped him of his boxers, if Jean would keen and groan as Marco teased him open with his tongue -- what Jean’s cock and cum would taste like. Marco licked his lips, the image of Jean’s legs, spread wide and inviting, capturing his thoughts. That was, until, a slightly worried filled voice caused his less than pure thoughts to come crashing to a halt.
“Mr. Bodt, class is over~!!!” Sang a familiar voice, Professor Hanji Zoe’s to be exact.
Sitting up straight in his seat, realizing with confusion that he was, indeed, the last student in the class, he laughed nervously. Ever since he had decided to be an auditor for Hanji’s class, he had never thought he would spring a boner at his desk.
“I um… I can’t move, just… just yet.” He warbled, face tinted red as he shifted indiscreetly in his seat. Hanji only quirked one of zher fine dark red eyebrows teasingly.
“Really, Mr. Bodt, I had no idea you would have found the subject of poisonous trail flora, especially poisonous ivy, to be so… enthralling.” Zhe snorted, amusing zherself only slightly in Marco’s pain.
Marco whined, hiding his face in his hands. Thankfully, however, his professor’s mocking had done at least some good -- his boner had been killed almost instantly.
“What’s this about, Bodt?” Hanji pulled a lab stool closer to his desk, sitting zher self down.
Marco took a steadying breath, curling his fingers against his thighs, grabbing a fistful of denim.
“I know what I want to do, and how I want to do it but I have no clue what I'm doing oh god oh god how does one give a blow job to a Pre-Op Trans guy? I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable -- he’s really sensitive about his junk. I’ve never even fucking seen it really, not up close! I mean, we fuck, but he always tries to keep my eyes up, never down --Hah, haha, oh my god I’m screwed.” Marco wailed, throwing his face in his hands again to hide his embarrassment at the rush of words that spilled from his mouth hastily, but Hanji, rather then laugh at his misfortune, laughed at the absurd notion that this was a complicated problem. They didn’t call Hanji the miracle worker in all things Queer for nothing.
“Take a calming breath, Bodt, yes, yes, that’s good, deep breaths…” Hanji patted Marco’s back soothingly for a few seconds before zhe hopped off of the lab station stool, skipping down the aisle of desks to dig around in zher bright orange messenger bag. Marco, biting worryingly at his lip, shuffled his backpack over his shoulder, walking tentatively toward his professor who had furiously started to paw at zher bag.
“Ah-hah! Thought you could hide from me, eh, you little rascals?” Hanji jeered, producing a handful of slim and long glossy pamphlets, each with a title in light blue, encircled in white and pink. Marco recognized the colors.
“Transgender flag colors?” He murmured, Hanji looking up at him with excited big brown eyes. She grinned.
“Take ‘em, they’ll come in handy, promise.” Zhe hummed, shoving the informative pamphlets against Marco’s chest with a wink. Scrabbling to grab at the folded sheets of printed paper before they scattered on the floor, Marco unzipped his backpack and shoved the first five in, before grabbing at the remaining three. The first two were on information about surgeries and risks as well as benefits, so those two he shucked in with the others for another nights read. But the reaming one, a stout little folded paper with a picture of well, a picture of very detailed specific glared at him fiercely.
Marco swallowed nervously -- flashbacks of when Mina had filled Marco in on the process of menstruation. Wincing slightly, he flipped at the book, staring a few of the diagrams till he read the smaller captions beneath him, words like labia and clitoris startling the ever loving shit out of him. But, taking a steadying breath, he knew he wanted to do this, to share this with Jean, to make him comfortable and loved.
Nodding his head, slightly to himself, he gripped tightly at the informative text in his hand, giving Hanji a firm and unwavering smile before he walked out of zher classroom, Hanji mock saluting him as he left.
…
Praise the Gods for Hanji Zoe, Marco thought as he holed himself up in the front seat of his car, reading diligently at all the texts had to offer, studying closely at the drawn diagrams, learning the proper etiquette and usual precautions when engaging in oral sex with a pre-op trans guy.
After forty minutes of reading and re-reading, ignoring the confused looks of passerby staring at a grown man studying a sex-ed pamphlet that had a glaring vagina on its cover, and then drowning out his nerves with trashy 80’s music, Marco felt he was ready. Smirking to himself in the mirror, he shoved his car key in the ignition, feeling his car roar with life.
Marco was invincible, the skilled master of seduction, giver of oral orgasm, lover of Jean Kirschtein. Winking at himself in the mirror like the suave man he was, he pulled out of the community college parking lot, heading straight for the apartment.
…
That’s how it all began, and now, jogging down the hall, house keys already poised in his fist like a goddamn sword hilt, Marco was ready to go into battle. He had even practiced tonguing his ABC’s in the car rearview mirror -- he could never look at old Mrs. Michaels in the eye ever again, but that was the price paid for perfection. Jean was about to cum harder than he ever had in his entire life, Marco was sure of it. Humming as he opened the front door of the apartment, he felt giddy with a jolt of excitement.
The first thing he spied was the person of his affections, languidly sunken into the cushions of the couch. He was clad in his teal blue Sharks hockey sweatshirt and the most eye assaulting pair of boxers ever, colored neon green. He was clicking absently at the television set with the remote, skipping over a few channels before he settled on one playing a re-run of a movie. Marco knew today was his day off, his relaxing day, when he could unwind and not face the threat of having scalding hot coffee dumped on his crotch by a co-worker. It was the perfect time, Marco realized, watching Jean yawn tiredly, settling into his seat, muttering a, “hey babe,” to Marco.
Marco felt his heart seize in his throat, his nervousness and excitement melding into a sense of pure adrenaline, and before he could think much on a plan of seduction, he was already dropping his backpack to the floor, walking up to Jean with a strained tightness in his step.
Kneeling on the ground in between Jean’s legs, warm big hands spreading other’s knees apart to lightly massage at the other’s thighs, Marco smiled. Jean, tv remote in hand, merely quirked up his brow in interested confusion.
“Well hello to you too -- what’s up?” Jean murmured, voice amused.
Marco just shrugged and grinned shyly, he didn’t trust his voice to keep steady. “You just seemed stressed,” He murmured softly, sweetly, fingers massaging at Jean’s strong thighs.
Jean stared down suspiciously at Marco, very much interested in where this was going. “Yeah, I am kinda stressed, uh... What are you planning to do about it?“ Jean couldn’t help his voice crackling slightly, Marco smirking, trying to recall every memory of the diagrams to aid in his goal. Breathing deeply, steadying himself, he smiled determinately.
Snorting a huff of laughter at the other’s intensely resolute face, Jean chuckled.
“Uh, should I be like, worried, right now?” Jean said, but then, as if throwing any reservations to the wind, Marco dipped his head against Jean’s stomach, lifting the blond’s shirt up to expose his belly. Jean sucked in a quick gulp of air at the coldness of the air on his bare skin, Marco gently kissing along the other’s stomach.
Marco couldn’t stop nipping playfully at the other’s tummy, causing Jean to huff with giggles, teasingly hitting Marco’s shoulder because shit that tickles. Kicking with laughter as Marco tongues at his belly button, Jean is helpless as the giggles spill from his throat. Even Marco, finding the other’s glee infectious, started to chuckle, that was, until Jean’s legs had kicked up from the ticklish torture, the crook of either of his knees resting on Marco’s shoulders.
Jean was still giggling, even when Marco’s eyes grew to have a glint of something in his gaze, lips at the other’s flesh slowing. He remained as gentle as he could with his kisses and nips, traveling slowly down to Jean’s hipbones.
It still tickled, but in a softer way that had Jean laughing breathlessly, causing a gentle warmth in his stomach to flutter. It was only when Marco nipped and sucked little marks playfully against the other’s skin that it all became less ticklish and more pleasurable, more intense, more purposeful. Jean squirmed minutely at the touch, causing Marco to grin.
Jean’s hands deafly traveled upwards from Marco’s arms to his shoulders, to curl lightly at the nape of the other’s neck, running the soft black hair of the other through his fingers. Breathlessly still laughing, Jean’s voice became quieter, more strained with sudden hoarseness. Marco wasted no time then, licking at the small red bite and suck marks he left marred on Jean’s skin. Jean couldn’t help but swallow tight in his throat, his legs having started to shake slightly, like a tremor coursing through his veins.
The freckled man noticed the slight tremble in Jean's legs, murmuring soothing words into Jean’s skin as he traveled downward to kiss at his thighs. Pushing Jean's boxers away just slightly, he nipped at more skin, any he could find. Jean's toes curled and he was sure he'd be shaking more if Marco wasn't holding him down gently. His back arched lightly as Marco sucked a little harder than before, going back to kiss and soothe the new bruise.
Marco’s thumbs, fingers, tease underneath the other’s boxers, lightly brushing against Jean’s upper thighs, finding the warmth of the other’s skin. "Ah...ha...h." Jean breathes, fingers tightening in Marco’s hair as the other laves at the reddening bruise, humming against the blonde’s thighs that will not cease their tremors. Working at the skin for a few more seconds, Marco’s lips then travel upward, nosing at the other’s crotch, causing Jean to jump a little, sinking deeper into the couch to keep from wriggling and arching like a restless thing.
"Can...Can I?" Marco breathed, mouth open, as if he was about to pant, to beg softly against Jean’s hips. Jean bit at the corner of lips, a few seconds of worry flicking in the back of his head. "You don't have to..." Jean murmured, hoarsely, his voice strained. He cleared his throat.
“That's not what I asked,” Marco smiled, nuzzling at Jean once more. “Is it okay if I pleasure you?" He asked again, deep brown eyes flickering to the other’s slightly amber ones. By now, Jean’s face had tinged red, and shutting his eyes, he took a steadying breath. He nodded to the other. Within second his hold in Marco’s hair tightened, but his body seemed to relax, legs sliding open slightly to make room for the other.
Marco took his sweet time with Jean, relishing in being able to please him. He nuzzled Jean's crotch again, and the other man bit his lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. He was already so very turned on. Without any more hesitation, Marco started pressing opened mouthed kisses against the cloth and Jean felt a shiver go through his spine, he knew he was blushing, his face burning with desire.
“You're getting wet,” Marco hummed, kissing a few more times at the slightly growing wet boxers, a small patch of Jean’s pre-cum tingeing the green cloth a darker shade. Jean squirmed, eyes slightly shut in what he was sure was embarrassing arousal. No one had ever done this for him, been so gentle, so attentive -- dared to pay special attention to Jean like Marco was now.
“I-…” Jean was interrupted by his own breathy moan. He wanted to tell Marco that no one had come close to being this loving for him, but he was already flushed from embarrassment and arousal, telling Marco this was his first time would probably kill him. He tries to steady his breathing, but Marco was covering him in sweet and delicious kisses, making it very hard for him to concentrate on anything but the other’s lips on him.
Hips twitching up slightly, Jean bit down on a whine, catching it in his throat before it could escape past his lips. Sneaky hands, fingers curling, lightly peeled Jean’s boxers downward, Jean tilting his hips up slightly with thighs aching as Marco dragged his boxers down to his ankles where they pooled at the floor. Finally feeling the cool air of the apartment hit his naked legs, his exposed body, Jean felt a nervous thumping in his heart. Would Marco change his mind, realize perhaps this was a bad idea, that he didn't want to do anything involving Jean’s unique... situation? But those thoughts were soon burned from his mind with a gasp and a groan as Marco, set Jean’s legs farther apart, the blonde’s feet now planted on the floor. The black haired man simply nestled himself between Jean’s legs, hot breath panting against Jean’s hips, against the inside of his thighs. Jean keened.
Marco gave Jean another kiss on his thigh, looking up and smiling lovingly at his boyfriend. His eyes were warm and Jean melted, reaching to stroke Marco's cheek. Marco nuzzled into his hand, kissing his palm before going back to his task. He was nervous, yes, but he was doing his best to swallow it down. Leaning forward, he lapped at Jean tentatively, and the way Jean gasped at the feeling made his cock stir in his pants.
Marco’s nervous heartbeat thrummed in his ears, but his eagerness seemed to drown out any trembling he might have possessed at the task set before him. He had to focus; he wanted to make Jean shake with un-curbed pleasure. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but he knew this meant something, something big to the other, and Marco would be damned if he screwed it up. Nostrils flaring, Marco licked back up against Jean, the other so wet, so soft, so warm. It was, it was different, yes, but not strange, and Marco felt his half hardening dick twitch as he tentatively used his tongue against the folds that made up Jean’s cock, humming softly, causing the other to tighten his legs ever so slightly, Jean’s knuckles were white as they grabbed at Marco’s hair, teeth clenching, whining.
It felt good; it felt so fucking good as Marco licked at his cock diligently, sliding his tongue across different areas, finding spots that would make Jean twitch and arch. Marco was being so attentive, his mouth warm and careful; it made Jean's heart swell and his body quiver. Within a few seconds Marco was already becoming more confident in his movements, quickly learning Jean's most sensitive areas.
Tongue swiping at the littlest crevice, anywhere he could find, Marco began to suck timidly, laving at Jean, causing the other to hiss and buck his hips back and forth, urging Marco on with breathless little moans and hands that had slid down to the other’s shoulders. His fingers clamped tight. "Sh...Shit," Jean gasped as Marco found a little special spot, pulling it between his lips to suck greedily. Jean’s breath hitched, and he swore that he had tears forming in the corner of his eyes.
“M-Marco, that feels…ah!” Jean whined and Marco hummed softly in return, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through the blond. The freckled man kept up his diligent sucking at that spot, flicking his tongue rapidly against it, and Jean bucked his hips into the motion, spreading his legs wider, desperate for more, more of Marco. "F-fuck…" Jean's cock was wet with his cum already.
He could feel his resolve slipping, his inhibition waning as he rocked languidly into Marco’s waiting mouth, the other doing his damnest to make Jean come undone. With the tip of his tongue Marco practically fucked him, curling against Jean’s wetness till Jean was afraid he would pass out, Marco’s mouth a constant hotness against him. Practically slurping, the other licked upwards and back down, a greedy smile on his face as he watched Jean, lust clouding in his eyes and he rolled his hips, trying to keep in time with Marco’s rhythm.
Marco's nose brushed against coarse hair but he loved it, he loved how Jean was leaning in to fuck Marco's face, his tongue moving dangerously close to slipping inside him, making Jean whine and arch for more. His body was trembling, Marco's calloused fingers holding his hips but not restraining him, allowing Jean to do as he pleased.
With a little insistent buck of his hips, Jean felt like he was about to die, rutting against the other’s face, the flatness of Marco’s tongue a constant feeling. Swallowing a moan, Jean shifted, causing Marco’s nose to be buried in Jean’s coarse curls, tongue darting around Jean’s tight hole, Marco’s jaws, lips, chin soaking wet with spit and Jean’s own cum.
The blond himself could feel the other grinning against him, Marco having perfected the art of reducing Jean to a withering mess on the couch, legs slack, open wide, cock twitching and dripping, his own mouth gritting back whines and moans. But it was when, as if Marco had been gaining courage during the last few minutes, that he teasingly dipped his tongue slightly inside Jean, causing the other to gasp at the slightly weird feeling, like a tightening ache.
But in an instant it was gone, Marco going back to his ministrations of drawing Jean deeper into his waiting mouth. Jean keened slightly, knowing Marco was trying to be as gentle as he possibly could -- to make sure Jean was comfortable -- but now, now Jean was needy, insistent. He could feel his cum leaking, dripping down his thighs, smearing on Marco’s face and he wanted more, he wanted to feel Marco inside him. Fingers biting into Marco’s shoulder, Jean arched up, urging Marco deeper.
“Marc..o…” Jean ground out, fucking himself on Marco's waiting tongue, and oh, yes, right there. “Please…” He had begun to pant now, tears beading at the corners of his eyes. Marco hummed in confusion and Jean, poor Jean, was past the point of speaking full sentences, so he simply fucked Marco's face harder hoping Marco would understand his need.
He could feel his toes curling from his desperation, and if Marco didn’t hurry the fuck up Jean was sure he would faint. Stuttering his hips, he snapped them in a constant fevered roll, causing Marco to slightly gag, forcing himself to breath through his nose as Jean messily rutted into him.
Hastily throwing his head back, he gasped out a “Please,” before it's stolen from his mouth by a moan. Marco, still a bit confused at what Jean needed, decided to try his best, dipping his tongue in and out of the other’s folds and crevices as best as he could, lips sucking tightly at Jean’s cock, but it's not enough.
Jean was panting; pathetic little wrecked sobs escaping his lips. It's then, flicking his eyes to watch the other’s desperation, the way he almost seems clenched, poised, that Marco realized what Jean wanted, what he needed. Pulling back to lick his lips, tasting the other’s cum, Marco dived back in, this time, mouthing at a certain spot, groaning into Jean’s wetness. Hands clenched around the other’s thighs to spread his legs wider, Marco eagerly fucked at Jean’s hole with the tip of his tongue, earning a strangled groan from the other. “Shit..." Marco thinks, his neglected cock jumping, twitching as the other squirmed in his hold.
“More…Marco, I-ah shit!” Jean cried out as Marco slid his tongue into Jean deeper, faster, his touch remaining loving as he turned Jean into a sobbing mess. He’s close, he's so close and he's moaning at every breath, his fingers tangled deeply into Marco's dark hair, his legs having come upward to wrap around Marco's broad back. Marco's cock is aching, but he's focused solely on Jean's pleasure, his need to absolutely wreck his boyfriend.
And wreck Jean he has. Marco’s mouth was hot, unwavering, greedy as he made a mess of Jean, tongue thrusting deeper and deeper into him, the tip coming back to flick upward as Marco lapped insistently at the other’s cavern. Marco’s pace started to speed up, spurred on by Jean’s gasps of "Oh God, yes" and his shattered mantra of "Marco, Mar-aah--co". With a particularly harsh thrust, Marco curling the wet muscle inside the other, Jean let out a sharp sob that shook him violently, his legs tightening themselves around Marco so that the other man could feel Jean’s need even more urgently.
If Marco's face hadn’t so occupied, he'd be positively beaming at the way he was unraveling Jean. He curled his tongue again, hoping to get the same reaction. He wasn't disappointed as Jean's whole body spasmed, his grip on Marco's hair almost painful. But he loved it, he loved it so much. He flicked his tongue upwards again, massaging that spot slowly, watching as Jean's body writhed in need.
He kept up his rhythm, thrusting his tongue upward and in fast, then flicking it higher, deep inside of the other. After a few seconds Marco even found if he rolled his tongue slightly, that Jean would respond with a high pitched whine and a hitch in his jerking hips. God, Marco felt like he could do this for ages, Jean on his mouth, the taste of him, the other tugging at his hair to get him to fuck him open faster, longer, harder. Marco almost choked once again in his own eagerness, laving at Jean’s walls, thrusting harder this time, faster, curling upward on every rut and he could feel Jean tighten, could hear the other’s pants of "fuckfuckfuck" so close in his ears.
In the end what pushed him over the edge was looking down and seeing Marco, Marco so focused on his task of bringing Jean pleasure, Marco, fucking so deeply into Jean that his nose was buried in coarse hair, Marco, the only person in the world who had ever touched him like this, Marco, Marco, Marco. "I..I, FUCK!" Jean thrust into Marco once, twice more and came with a strangled cry, his boyfriend working him through it.
To feel Jean tighten around his tongue, around his mouth, made Marco’s pulse hammer in his throat, his jaw moving, working to slot slowly back in and out, easing Jean out of his orgasm. After Jean had calmed down, his taste left on the other’s lips, Marco flattened the muscle, soothing Jean, whose cock gave a last few twitches of pleasure. Jean was warm, so warm, smelled so strongly of musk, of sex. Marco loved it, loved how Jean still had his fingers threaded in his hair, his hands more relaxed. His legs had slid open again from their tight death grip around Marco. Jean lazily snuggled into the couch cushions as he panted, trying to greedily suck air into his lungs. He was spent, and Marco couldn't help but feel so proud, watching Jean with his hooded exhausted eyes. Marco finally, with one last quick lick and kiss, drew back, knees aching as he sat back, erection throbbing in his pants -- but he ignored it. All that mattered was Jean. Jean, who was watching Marco lick at his lips, trying to catch every taste of the other. Jean whimpered slightly at the gesture.
With ease, the black haired man leaned in to press soft kisses to Jean's thighs, lapping at the cum there. Jean twitched, his body oversensitive, but still he craved it. Marco kissed every bite mark, almost as an apology, and Jean couldn't take it anymore. He could feel tears fall down his face but he didn't care, he felt so good, so happy. Marco looked up and his expression fell to one of deep concern, which made Jean even happier. "Jean, are you alright?" Jean didn't have words; instead he nodded fervently and yanked Marco up to kiss him deeply.
He could taste him on the other as he almost viciously kissed him, trying to show Marco just how much he loved him, how much that meant to him. Hands locking Marco towards his chest, Jean wriggled on the couch, heaving Marco up and over him so that he was settled on top of him, having the life hugged out of him as Jean hiccupped into his shoulder, mumbling, "I love you so much, you idiot, you don't even know."
Realization then quickly dawned on Marco as he pulled back just enough to look at Jean's face. "Was that your first…?" And Jean flushed bright red; looking away, "Don't make me say it out loud." And Marco could do nothing but stare in surprise and absolute love for Jean, before he surged forward to claim Jean's mouth with his own, conveying his love and how absolutely grateful he was for Jean's trust.
Jean, breathing into the kiss, pulled Marco tighter to him, trying to press himself to the other as close as he could, to nuzzle his hands against Marco’s rib cage, to embrace him. He hoped his actions conveyed to the other just how dearly he loved him, how his body and heart loved Marco so very much. Smiling giddily into the kiss, Jean felt so safe, wrapped up in the other’s loving arms.
Marco easily enveloped Jean with his larger body, kissing him with equal enthusiasm. Jean couldn’t help the slight noise of protest against the other’s mouth as he suddenly remembered, "Let me take care of you," and slid his hand down Marco's torso. Marco smiled and pecked Jean's lips. Jean still had a tired, fucked out look on his face and Marco absolutely loved it.
"You don't have to..." Marco sighed against the other’s cheeks as Jean’s sneaky hands lightly massaged at Marco’s clothed dick. Jean smirked, "That's not what I was asking," He cooed, giving a tight squeeze at the bulge, causing Marco to instantly rock his hips forward and into Jean’s waiting palm.
Jean kept his palm firmly against Marco's crotch, watching as Marco began to roll his hips eagerly into the pressure. He was already close, the sight and taste of Jean still fresh in his mind. Jean watched him, and a wicked grin came over his face. He leaned in close to Marco's ear, licking at the shell and tugging at the lobe, murmuring, "How does it feel knowing you're the first? The first to touch me like that? To suck my cock?" Marco shivered violently, rolling his hips harder. He was going to cum in his pants, he just knew it.
Jean flexed his fingers before squeezing them almost painful, causing a gasping howl to escape Marco’s throat as he rolled his hips, chasing the pressure of Jean’s hand, almost over the edge. "How did I taste? I bet you can still feel me on your tongue, you suck cock so well," Jean flicked his wrist, cupping at Marco’s clothed dick as he fucked into his hand, a whimper escaping his lips. "Bet you never thought virgin cock would taste so good...did ya'?" Jean murmured, biting at Marco’s ear, causing Marco to stutter, hips hitching, "f-fuck, Jean."
"Tell me, Marco. Tell me how good it was." Jean whispered, rubbing at the bulge in Marco's pants. "A-ah! Oh god, It was amazing, Jean…" Marco breathed. Jean smiles, "I bet you were close to cumming without even touching yourself." Marco whined and nodded, Jean had looked so hot, he was close just thinking about it again.
Chancing to look at Jean, Marco blinked hooded eyes, lashes feeling heavy as he rutted against the blonds hand, desperately trying to find his relief. Jean was still so hot, smirk in place, white teeth bitten into a grin. His sharp eyes, staring into Marco’s own, made the black haired man flinch, needing so much, wanting so much. "And now look at you, about to cum in your pants like a horny teenager," Jean hummed, stroking harshly at Marco’s twitching clothed cock, "So needy..." Marco bucked, a low whine in his throat as he grabbed at Jean’s wrist, forcing the other to be faster with his strokes, to be merciful. Jean leaned into Marco, lips at the flesh below his ear, "Beg."
Marco whined.
"Oh fuck…" Marco moaned, hips stuttering for more. "I..I need--" A sharp inhale as Jean pressed his palm against Marco's erection, "Fuck, I need to cum, Jean," he groaned loudly. "P-please." Jean smirked, pulling Marco closer, drunk on the feeling of dominating the other man. "Be specific, Marco." Marco whined again, rutting up into Jean's hand desperately. "To-shit! T-touch me, please"
"I am touching you, Marco." Jean replied, a teasing tone dripping from his voice as he gave another fleeting squeeze at the other’s cock. It was warm in his hand. Jean smirked. Marco groaned pitifully, forehead drooping to rest on his shoulder, he panted. "Need... Need your hand...fuck, on my dic-ah, dick." He growled out, earning a huff from Jean. "Well, why didn't you just say so?" Marco whined pitifully, the sound croaking into a long-winded groan as Jean’s fingers un-zipped Marco’s pants, shoving his palm downward against the other’s shaft. Jean’s slightly cool fingers against Marco’s weeping cock head made the other yelp.
"Oh fuck yes" Marco sighed, fucking into Jean's hand wantonly, whining as Jean stroked at the shaft, thumb coming up to tease at the head. Marco keened, Jean still nibbling at his ear, whispering filthy things. He had never seen Jean so confident, so dominant, and it turned him on immensely. He bucked up into that perfect grip a few more times before he came, coating Jean's hand with his cum. He laughed breathlessly at Jean's satisfied grin.
“That’s a good boy…” Jean mumbled, petting at the nape of Marco’s neck as he greedily sucked in air. He winced as he sat up, muscles aching, crotch sticky from cumming against his belly.
“I’m glad it was you…” Jean murmured sleepily against Marco’s neck, causing the other’s face to tint pink, breath stuttering. Swallowing hard, Marco gathered Jean up in his arms, setting him to lie partly on his lap. Jean wrapped his arms around Marco’s neck, shuffling against his chest, eyes closed.
“I’m glad too.” Marco hummed, the happiness in his heart so real, so pure, it slightly scared even him.
Fingers brushing back Jean’s hair away from his slightly sweaty forehead, Marco made himself comfortable against the arm of the couch, finding he would just have to deal with wet boxers for a bit, until Jean fell deep into sleep and he could move without fear of waking the other.
Sending a sweet fleeting glance back at his boyfriend, Marco kissed the top of his head, settling into his own sleep, one of peaceful dreams and warmth.