November 1, 2015

Mitch:

It's six o'clock at night and I'm already exhausted. I barely recorded anything today, and the videos I did finish weren't what I would call my greatest works. It's just too much. Every time I turn a corner, it seems like something is going wrong, that something is my fault, that I should have done more, better, sooner. I'm tired of the judgment and the endless arms race for perfection, both inside and outside of my head. I just want to be for a little while without hearing griping or accusations. Is that so much to ask for? I played my part in their charade at the funeral and I gave in to their demands on YouTube. Now I just want a little peace. I just want to relax and grieve.

I curl up in the middle of the bed and throw the bedspread over my head, listening to Jerome scream about something down the hall. He doesn't sound hysterical, so he must be recording something. He hasn't been a fan of Florida from the beginning, but the cooler temperatures have been pushing the clutches of roaches and beetles through the cracks under the doors and up through the plumbing into the drains. He has taken to wearing sneakers inside now, keeping them on the nightstand on his side of the bed every night so he always has a melee weapon available. Next he'll be asking if he can get a BB gun so he won't have to worry about them touching him. His shrieking dies down and I can hear him talking in a normal voice to someone through his microphone, or maybe he's just narrating to himself. He goes on like that for quite a while and I start to doze off in the relative peace of the semi-quiet house. Everything fades away into a warm, comforting nothingness for a little while. He scares the living shit out of me when he finally crawls into bed and puts his arms around me, but he only laughs until I instinctively kick him in the shin.

"Holy shit fuck, fuck, fuck. Why'd you do that?!"

"I thought I heard a Creeper hissing in my ear. I might have to use my sword on you next time." I slurp at him while he grunts in pain, and I smile when I see his dark eyes glaring at me in the dim light from a car driving by on the street.

"Wouldn't hurt a tenth as bad as your goddamn clubfeet. You and your fucking soccer."

"I'm sorry, Biggums."

"No, you're not." He sulks while he sits up and rubs his undoubtedly bruised leg, and I move over to sit next to him, massaging his leg a little higher than where I had kicked him. Within a minute, I am sucking on his collar bone and working my hand even higher, feeling him swell up in his well-worn banana pajamas. Even the comically thin, stretched out fabric can't hide his raging boner. He is the perfect distraction away from all of the drama and nagging.

"I got something for you. It came in the mail a couple of days ago."

"If it already came, why would I want it? That's not how this works, Benj." He starts pulling at the zipper on my hoodie and I shrug it off before getting up and carrying it over to the closet. He turns and watches me, obviously not sure if he should be happy about me getting him a present. I pull out the unopened Amazon box and carry it back to the bed for him to open in the dark while I strip my jeans and underwear off and throw them aside. I lay down on the bed next to him as he finally starts to rip the paper tape away, and when he reaches into the box, he freezes. "Mitch. What the fuck is this?"

"I don't know. What does it feel like, Jerome?"

"It feels like a cold, hard dick."

"That's exactly what it is." He doesn't move, so I sit up and start peeling his shirt up over his stomach. He doesn't look like he was prepared for this little development. "We agreed that the winner got to choose what we did for a night, and you lost the bet. Alex is still watching lame ass TV shows downstairs and yesterday was Halloween. I won the bet."

"But Mitch..."

"The only 'but' here is yours, sweetness. You aren't the only one who wants to fuck somebody." I finally manage to get his shirt off over his head and I throw it over by where my clothes landed. I dig through the box to find the other thing I'd ordered, watching him stare at me, dumbfounded. "You might want to go find a magical lube tube or you'll have to call in sick from the group recording session tomorrow." He takes his time getting up, skittering crab-like across the room to his stash of trial-sized bottles of lube in my sock drawer, afraid I might stage an assault on his unguarded ass as soon as he turns his back on me. I slip the underwear-style harness on and take his new toy into the bathroom to clean it with soap and hot water in the sink. He is still digging around in the drawer when I come back. "Sometime this year would be nice. There aren't that many choices."

"I don't know if I like this idea."

"Why's that? You get all three of my holes, but I barely get one of yours? That doesn't sound like a fair trade to me." I slip the fairly large dildo through the elastic loop in the front of the extra tight briefs before I go stand behind him, feeling him jump when it brushes against his ass. I reach into his waistband and pull the rest of his clothes off for him, and he quickly chooses a mini tube and takes off for the bed. He obviously never thought he would be on this side of the equation. I push him down backwards on the bed and crawl on top of him, pinning him down on the mattress and quickly winning the pitiful battle for his mouth. It looks like he has completely given up on winning the war, but he hasn't said I couldn't do it. I try to grab the tube from him, but he doesn't seem as enthusiastic as he usually is. "I need that, unless you don't want me to use it."

"Please don't destroy my ass. I kinda need it."

"I'm not that mean to you. Jeez." I twist the little cap off of the tube and squeeze a little out on my palm to butter his dick up with. Who knew he would bitch about it this much? He huffs at me and I recapture his mouth before he can whine any more. I wait until he is well on his way to losing it before I pull away and start preparing him to take my dues. He tenses up and tries to fight me before he starts to get into it. "Hey, dood... It's okay. It's just like when I let you try it with my vag. We both agreed we would give it a shot." There is a long pause and he doesn't speak. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right? I might mess with you a little bit, but I wouldn't hurt you."

"I know that. But this isn't exactly what I was expecting to do when I woke up this morning. I thought you'd make me buy you like ten pizzas or some shit."

"No, this is better. This beats Domino's any day of the week."

"PeteZahHutt'd probably beat off to it, too." While he is distracted with laughing at his stupid pun, I take the opportunity to slip the well-lubed tip into him and he gasps and reflexively tries to move away. I push in a little deeper before I grab onto his hips and hold him in place, leaning over him to leave a mark or three on his chest. He moans but he doesn't protest. It looks like his hesitancy was more about nerves than about him not wanting to try it, and now that he is starting to relax a little bit, he seems more convinced. This is the first thing we've done together that he hasn't done with someone else, not counting our food fun downstairs. We agreed to try everything, but I don't think he took it as seriously as I did. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck."

"Now you know how I feel. I'm only about halfway in."

"I'd say hurry up... but don't do that. Uhhh..." His thighs begin to relax shakily as he adjusts to the size of the rubbery cock. It looks like he enjoys it a lot more than he thought he would. I wish I could feel him completely because what I can feel is amazing. Once he takes all of it, we start slow before we work up to a steady rhythm, and it feels great to watch him turn into a writhing mess beneath me. I love the power, the control, knowing that I'm the one doing that to him. I love that he was willing to trust me enough to let me see him vulnerable like this. I pull up on his legs to change the position and he lets out a quiet whimper when I plunge into him again. I pause to see if he is okay and he reaches up to grab my hips to bring them forward again. "No... don't stop. Please."

"I thought you said this wasn't a good idea." I lean down towards him even closer and I feel his tip paint a warm line horizontally across my stomach as I go at him.

"No. It's... a great idea." I push into him harder and faster and his breathing gets heavier and deeper. I can feel his muscles pumping against the cock as he releases with a soft whine, and it only takes a few seconds for me to jerk myself across the finish line. Topping definitely isn't the same for him as it is for me, but it is still very satisfying. Hopefully someday we can both enjoy it fully without having to rely on chemical-scented sex toys. I pull out and slide the harness off, hooking one of the legs around the post of the headboard before turning to collapse back on top of him, resting on his chest like he always does to me. I can hear his heart still pounding and his hot skin sends a shiver through my body as I realize how cool the air is. He starts running his fingers through my hair, mussing it up just for the fun of it like the jag that he is. He knows just how to get on my nerves and I love him for it. Two can play at that game.

"How do you feel, Biggums?"

"Big. Sore. Tired. Never thought I'd say I liked something like this... But I like your Mudkip."

"Oh god. We aren't naming it."

"Mud-kip. Mud-kip. Mud-kip." I wonder what would be going through Alex's head if he heard him right now. He probably doesn't question anything anymore.

"Poor Quentin is probably having nightmares right now."

"All the better. Mud-kip. Mud-kip. Mud-kip."