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Raffy hated Rome’s guts.
When Rome opened the door, music was blasting out. He pulled Raffy in by the forearm, then closed the door with a bang, barely audible above the hard techno beats rumbling in the room.
“Turn down the music!” Raffy scolded. He crossed his arms, annoyed.
Rome smirked. His hands were already on Raffy’s body, playing with the hem of his shirt, grabbing his hips, squeezing his ass.
“I want you to hear this new piece I’m mixing”.
Rome grabbed him by the neck, pushed him against the wall. Raffy couldn’t even complain, since Rome’s lips were already clashing against his own. Messy, eager, skilled.
Raffy was there for sex and sex only. He didn’t have time for Rome’s restless teasing. As Rome left open mouthed kisses on his neck, Raffy unzipped Rome’s pants.
Raffy wondered if Rome could even hear the soft whimpers escaping his mouth whenever his dick hit as hard as the music. In sync.
“How you like this beat, Raffy?”
Raffy bit down his bottom lip, his body rocking with every thrust. “…Not my cup of tea”.
Rome was way hotter than Raffy would have liked to admit. His sharp gaze alone was able to turn Raffy on. Not to mention his mouth and, god, his hands… They grabbed Raffy’s hips tightly as Rome was panting and his skin slapped against Raffy’s in a constant, restless rhythm.
“You always say you don’t like me either. Yet here you are” Rome teased.
The music hammered hard, and vibrated in every cell of Raffy’s body. Somehow, Rome was pounding even harder and each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through Raffy’s nervous system.
Raffy moaned hard, brows furrowing in pleasure. He was such a bad liar, after all.
He took the chance to shut Rome up himself, pulling him in for another kiss.
Raffy couldn’t step foot into a club anymore without the hard beats reminding him of Rome pounding inside him.