turps

"Pete," Mikey says against his mouth. Pete's forgotten to keep kissing him again, lips just moving aimlessly against Mikey's.

"Mmmf," Pete says, mouth sliding hot and wet up Mikey's cheek and into his hair. Mikey's eyes slip shut and he sways back against the door, because Pete may be shoving his tongue into Mikey's ear in the least sexy wet willy ever, but he's got one clammy hand around both of their dicks and Mikey's only human.

"Shit," Mikey pants, dropping his head back and letting Pete gnaw at his neck a bit, both of Mikey's palms flat against the door while he shoves his hips into Pete's grip.

"God, Mikey," Pete groans into Mikey's neck, teeth blunt as they scrape the skin he's sucked raw, "you taste like fucking Banana Boat, what the fuck." They both laugh and then Pete must push up onto his toes because now it's not just the tip of his dick bumping Mikey's, but that's all of his cock, hot and hard and sliding against Mikey's in Pete's grip, their spit still dripping from between Pete's knuckles.

"Shut up," Mikey moans, "I burn easy, okay?"

"Yeah?" Pete says like he's already forgotten what he's responding to. His legs are trembling with the effort of holding himself on the balls of his feet, knees digging into the wall to keep them lined up. "God, I can feel all of you, it's like - ungh." He starts sucking at that same spot, the skin bruised and over-sensitive, and Mikey reflexively shrugs his shoulders up. "Let me fucking in, Mikey, come on." Pete noses at Mikey's jaw, nipping lightly at the stubble there. "Wanna see this on you later, wanna remember."

"Shut up," Mikey says through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut and forehead creased with the effort not to come, but he laughs a little when he hears Pete echo "Shut up!" in a high voice into Mikey's damp cheek, and it hitches into a moan. "This is why we were kissing," Mikey says, "because there are people on the other side of this door and you won't stop talking."

So Pete finds his lips again, tongue sweeping Mikey's mouth as Mikey dips his head down to meet him. Pete's thighs are tense and shaking and there's a thump as he braces his other arm on the door, hand moving faster on their cocks.

It's barely a minute later when Pete's attention is lost once more, tongue a heavy, hot weight in Mikey's mouth and lips still against his. Their noses bump as Pete jolts with the movement of his own arm, moaning into Mikey's mouth. Mikey hiccups a laugh because, seriously. Worst multi-tasker ever.

"Who you laughing at?" Pete mumbles into his lips, and Mikey can feel his mouth tilt up into that big smile, can smell Pete's sweat and aftershave, can feel Pete's heart jackhammering against Mikey's ribcage where they're plastered together.

"You, you're fucking -" but Mikey's words are lost when Pete drops his other hand to squeeze Mikey's balls gently, and Pete's laughing and Mikey's choking a moan into Pete's mouth that might sound a bit like "No fair," as his legs lock and he comes, hard and slick over both of them.

"You suck at kissing, Mikey Way," Pete breathes. He laughs into Mikey's motionless, open mouth, and it breaks off into a grunt as he twitches and comes into the slippery circle of his hand.

They stand like that for a while, breathing harshly, and Mikey can hear Pete wiping his hands off on the door on either side of him. It doesn't sound very effective.

"Practice," Mikey eventually says decisively into Pete's forehead. He lets Pete close the distance between them, up on his toes, to plant a messy kiss into Mikey's smile. "Clearly we need more practice."