Work Text:
"I want you."
Mathieu did not hesitate to say his wish. It's the only thing he really wants.
"You want me," Wout frowns, a wrinkle crossing the middle of his forehead.
"Yeah, I want you."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean Wout. Your hole. Your asshole. Your virgin boy pussy."
"It's," Wout swallows, Mathieu's piercing gaze on him, "we already talked about that-"
"You get mine every day and night," Mathieu complains, "I'm a man too, did you forget that ? I like to fuck a pussy and I want yours."
"God," Wout sighs, clutching his head. "for sure I couldn't if you talk about pussy every time."
"Okay. Could I fuck your hole, sweetheart?"
Wout looks up at Mathieu, slightly blushes. They've talked about it before - the mere thought of being fucked terrifies Wout. Mathieu thinks it stupid and silly.
"I promise to be gentle," Mathieu lifts Wout's jaw, "I promise."
"I," Mathieu loves so much to see Wout blush and stutter like a little boy, "I don't know.."
"It won't be painful, promise. Just a bit weird but you get my fingers first- you already got some fingers inside, uhm? Medical stuff. It wasn't that awful, right?"
"It, 'Wout remembers latex gloves going inside, looking for swelling, weird but not that painful. "No it wasn't."
"See," Mathieu kisses Wout's lips. "Slow, good fingering," Mathieu licks Wout's lips, "then," Mathieu blows on Wout's wet, parted lips, "you get my dick."
Oh. They are in this, tense and warm presex atmosphere. Mathieu draws back his face, smiles. Wout feels his cock getting hard, how his stomach twists just because Mathieu is looking at him with this hot gaze and giving this fucking sexy smile.
Wout knows it's stupid and silly to be scared - but he's still scared.
"Do you want to realize my wish, Wout ?" Warm and mellow voice. Wout lets Mathieu lay him down on the bed.
"Gentle, you promised," the pillow is cool under Wout's head.
"I always keep my promises."
Deep, long kiss. Mathieu undresses Wout, kisses his jaw, his chest, slips his tongue into his navel, tickling, Wout shivers and laughs. Mathieu kisses Wout's belly then his thighs, gives him a slow handjob. Helps to relax.
"It'll be easier lying on your stomach," Mathieu says then opens the bedside table drawer to get the lube.
"How do you want to fuck me?", Wout asks. Mathieu looks at him for a while then closes the drawer.
"Stay like that," Mathieu comes back to the middle of the bed, spreads Wout's thighs. "You'll get more fingering."
"I guess it will be fine," a pop when Mathieu opens the tube.
"It will." Mathieu gets some lube on his fingers. "It's cold."
Difficult breathing. It's just a finger, Wout's trying to reassure himself. Not his dick yet.
"It's cold," Wout grimaces.
"I told you," Mathieu laughs softly. "Will become warm soon.."
Mathieu's finger moves inside Wout, it's not like medical stuff. Mathieu twists his finger, caresses the walls, goes back and forth. Mathieu kisses Wout's lips. Wout's cheeks are hot.
"Ready for the second," Mathieu asks.
"Yeah."
Wout feels his flesh being stretched, but it doesn't hurt. It's just weird how Mathieu's fingers work. How Mathieu's fingers fuck him. And then Mathieu still kissing Wout.
The third finger is a little more difficult. Wout contracts, tightens his muscle on Mathieu's fingers. Now it hurts.
"Wout, hey," Mathieu strokes Wout's hair, kisses his jaw. "Relax. It works. Three and you're stretched enough for my dick."
"Your dick is bigger than three," Wout protests, exhaling heavily as his body tries to push Mathieu's fingers out. "It can't work."
"I'm flattered but no, not that much. Relax, Woutje. It does."
Hearing his nickname seems to relax Wout. Mathieu waits, takes out his fingers to get more lube, goes back inside. Touch this little bump, and Wout doesn't understand the wave of well-being rising. Well-being and pleasure.
"Prostate," Mathieu whispers . The third finger joins the others easily. "Welcome to men's heaven."
Mathieu barely touches the magic bump, just enough to keep Wout relaxed. Then Wout is ready.
Wout's fear is back when Mathieu's fingers go out. Undresses. Kneels between Wout's thighs. Jerks off a bit with lube. Wout remembers why Mathieu just fingered him.
Mathieu sees the fear in Wout's eyes, leans over to kiss him tenderly.
"It's going to be fine. I promised."
Wout shakes but nods. I can do it. Mathieu promised.
Mathieu did not warn. Tongues entwined in Wout's mouth, Mathieu lets Wout get used to his head. Inch by inch. Mathieu is gentle, doesn't go that deep.
"You okay," Mathieu asks.
"Ye-yeah. You can move."
Mathieu moves. Gentle, like he promised. It's tight. Welcoming. Warm. Mathieu wanted Wout for so long. Could almost cry. Will come quickly.
"Could I go deeper," Mathieu asks between two lovely kisses.
"Please," Wout thinks of the magic bump. "Go deeper."
Deeper. They both moan. Mathieu closes his eyes, feels so good inside Wout. Their bodies dance together, Wout moans and groans every time Mathieu's head rubs his bump. Mathieuwas right. It was stupid and silly to be afraid.
Mathieu comes, stays inside. Makes Wout comes before laying down next to him, both exhausted and sweaty. Happy boys.
"So," Mathieu needs to cough several times, "am I keeping my promises?"
"You do," Wout smiled. Still shaking. "I wonder why I was so afraid about that."
"Thank you for making my wish come true," Mathieu is too happy, don't tease Wout and his (now resolved) fear of being fucked. "Santa Wout."
"Santa Wout," Wout chuckled.
"Yeah," Mathieu laughs. "And you know what? I love Santa."
"Glad to know that," Wout kisses Mathieu's neck. "I think Santa loves you back"
"Now you'll let me fuck you sometimes, yeah? Not just for Christmas – I didn't say my wish was just for once."
Wout don't say no. Men’s heaven. Being inside Wout is also heaven for Mathieu.