23. ❌ TUNE IN NOW For A Sneak Peek Preview Of The Condom Slingshot Olympics!

TW: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, food play


Micah expected Alistair to comment on the hotel he was staying at and the price it must have cost. Instead of belittling him and questioning his moral integrity, Alistair didn't bat an eye.

Though, in the elevator, he asked, "How long does room service last?"

Micah only knew because he'd thought the same thing the previous night after work. It was all on Lennon's card anyway, but he didn't want to abuse such privileges (no matter how many times Lennon assured him it was fine).

"They do appetizers and desserts all night," he said as he produced his phone to pull up the menu.

Rather than take the phone, Alistair was content to study the list from over Micah's shoulder. He hummed for Micah to scroll, so he did. He could taste the tobacco on Alistair's breath, acrid and sharp enough for Micah to unknowingly turn to glance at him.

Alistair met his eyes and lingered there. He was close enough to kiss, close enough for Micah to feel the words brush his own lips. Alistair's lips were silky soft. "Charcuterie sounds good."

Micah blinked at the pronunciation. He'd tried. "Did you take French or something?"

Alistair grinned. "No. I just got embarrassed one too many times saying the word 'cooter' unironically."

Micah snickered. He returned to his phone to add it to the cart, which was then followed by Alistair insisting on the chocolate lava cake. They were at the door when Micah cast the order in.

Once inside, Alistair whistled low, stepped in a broad circle around the room, and said, "Holy shit, sweet digs."

"Thanks," Micah said, locking the door. Lennon had his own keycard, but he very seriously doubted Lennon would be "out on the town" at two in the morning. The anxiety was still there, though, especially when Alistair asked:

"Can I expect anyone to show up unannounced?"

Micah debated the obviously wanted answer and feigning dismissal. The lie didn't come so easy. "Probably not," Micah said, which earned him an arched brow. "Don't laugh."

"I'm not laughing. Is it something I should be concerned about?"

"No," he said, truthfully. That answer came smooth.

Slowly, he approached Alistair at the windows overlooking the electrified city. The apartments nearby were quiet. Only a sparse few were occupied by televisions running.

"Do you have a fear of heights," Alistair asked, his shoulder brushing the windows.

Micah's stomach lurched. His eyes had instinctively dropped, plummeting like his stomach to the street below. Taxis dotted the curb. "A little," he confessed as he felt Alistair's hand along the side of his neck, thumb pushing his chin up and away from the fall.

Alistair caught hold of Micah's bottom lip and sucked it in. Their mouths opened as one, colliding with a lick and a suck that pulled Alistair to him. He leaned back, hand to the window as Alistair pressed him against it.

A frigid gasp escaped him. The cold permeated from the glass and through his clothes as they made out against the window. It quelled the sudden and constant heat stirring inside him as he rolled his hips into Alistair's, only to have Alistair's pelvis push back and pin him to the glass.

They rocked against one another, each straddling a leg. The friction against his dick wasn't enough—Micah needed to be naked. He needed to be on top of Alistair. He needed—

"Fuck," Alistair swore, voice low and gritty. He paused Micah's attack on his jawline with a light graze of his hand to Micah's throat. "I need to shower. Can you join me?"

Micah blinked. His lips were sore from kissing, and Alistair's were no better. In fact, he looked better with his mouth swollen and pink due to an assault from Micah's teeth.

"In the shower?"

"Yes."

Micah agreed, and so the make out session continued on to the bathroom where, under Micah's forceful hands to undress him, his fingers hitched on flimsy elastic.

"Wait," Micah said.

Alistair didn't respond because he knew exactly what Micah was waiting on. Their eyes dropped to Alistair's open jeans and the half-fallen waistband of a pair of lacy undergarments.

"You didn't," Micah breathed, trembling with unbridled desperation. He wanted to get on his knees and shove his nose into Alistair's crack through those panties.

Alistair hitched his jeans lower, aided by Micah's hands all but fusing to Alistair's hips to keep the lingerie in place. They weren't just any panties—they were boy-shorts with scalloped hems and, as Micah circled him—

Oh my God, a heart-shaped window.

And then Alistair ruined the scene by striking a pose. "You like?"

"I fucking hate. Take them off."

They knew it was a lie. Micah's voice was choked up and desperate as he hitched his thumb into the bottom of the heart and pulled.

where, against the windowed divider, Alistair scrubbed him down with soap and his lips.

By the time they were done wasting water, Micah pulled himself away at the sound of a knock on the front door. He wound a robe around himself as Alistair shut the water off and shook out his hair.

"Five minutes," Alistair promised, and so Micah shut the bathroom door behind him.

As he waited, he wheeled the room service cart into the room. Under the large silver dome waited an elaborate spread of cheeses, crackers, sausages, and grapes. He stole a few in obvious places just to make his mark known when Alistair came back.

Micah couldn't sit still. He paced. He circled. He ended at the window where he could torture himself with the thought of falling splat on the concrete below. And, in the midst of wondering if anyone down there could see him, his eyes scanned the apartments once more.

In a corner unit with windows Micah could see straight through to the other street, he saw it.

There was a couple going at it against the windows. The woman's tits were flattened into two flat cushions against the glass, her head turned away as her partner rutted into her from behind. Micah didn't think much when he saw other naked women except, Kennedy's tits are bigger.

The bathroom door clicked unlocked. Micah glanced over his shoulder once before resuming his spectating privileges. Alistair's footsteps were quiet, but not completely unregistered as he went first to the charcuterie board and then took his cracker with him to the window.

"See something you like," Alistair said from over his shoulder, following Micah's gaze. "Oh, wow."

"They've been at it for a minute before you opened the door," Micah reported. He tipped his head to the side and, likewise, so did Alistair. The man had the woman's leg nearly parallel to the window like a ballerina doing a standing split.

"Can you do that?" Micah asked.

"Yeah," he said. Micah stared at him, not impressed nor turned on, but horrified. "Give me, like, two months."

Micah elbowed him in the rib.

Alistair laughed, popped the rest of the cracker in his mouth, and said, "I wanna eat chocolate off you. Are you interested in that?"

"Do we—" Micah sputtered, but then remembered the lava cake. "Won't that shit burn me?"

"Hardly." And then, after a beat, Alistair circled back to the smaller of the two domes. "Let me see."

Micah was still processing the idea of Alistair licking chocolate off him and decided he liked it, so he followed after Alistair to where the man had already pressed a finger through the hollow, brownie sphere. Liquid fudge oozed out.

"Slightly warmer than room temperature," he reported.

That doesn't sound too bad, Micah thought. "Won't it ruin the sheets?"

"Tonight's your last night, isn't it?"

Micah shrugged. "I guess."

Alistair grinned at him, fangs and all. "Get on the bed then."

When Micah turned to sit on the edge, he found several towels waiting for him, spread out on the comforter. He sat atop one until Alistair had taken the open platter with him.

He was hypnotized by Alistair's lips wrapping around his finger and sucking the fudge off the tip. He delicately licked the pad of his freshly-cleaned finger as his knees fell on either side of Micah's.

"Scoot up," Alistair said.

Micah pulled himself back by his hands, and then his elbows, as Alistair's saliva-slicked finger pushed his chest down. He flopped onto the mattress, a deep breath shuddering out of him.

Alistair's fluffy white robe was wide open. With one deft hand, he undid Micah's tie and ripped the sash away, revealing Micah's bare necessities, the simple bear necessities forget about your worries and your strife—

Only then did Alistair set the platter to his left. From his robe pocket, he produced the condom. Micah's eyes wouldn't leave Alistair's hands until they were no longer in proximity of his dick, which Alistair took his sweet time tending to. He rolled the sleeve to Micah's balls where it fit snug around all of him.

And then, with both hands, Alistair lifted the cake off the plate. He cradled it like it was a gift to the gods and raised it above his head. The look on his face was wide open and wild.

Oh my God, Micah realized, perking up with fascination. It's that look again. Like he's going to eat someone alive.

"Ready?" Alistair asked.

Micah nodded.

Alistair lowered the cake to Micah's stomach.

Micah's breath hitched and so too did his abdomen. The muscles were taught, tensing with anticipation. The cake wasn't even touching his skin when the first tear in the foamy exterior was breached by chocolate ooze.

He couldn't see it until a sliver of dark chocolate dripped next to his belly button. He cursed, lungs spasming as he tried to remind himself to breathe, goddammit!

The sensation was immediately and glaringly not "just above room temperature." It leveled out as Alistair eased the cake up between the valleys of Micah's abs and between his pecs. He let the chocolate sweep in low loops near Micah's nipples, casting a hot flash through Micah's core.

He tipped his chin back the moment the chocolate pooled at the hollow of his collarbone. It was climbing.

"Ah, ah," Alistair chastised.

"Don't 'ah-ah' me, you bastard," Micah seethed, teeth gritted.

"Tip your chin down. Open wide."

He'd swept the cake up to catch what remained of the fudge. A stray splotch caught on Micah's chin anyway.

After a brief glaring contest, Micah parted his lips.

"Tongue out."

"Fuck y—mm." Micah's insult was cut off by chocolate on his lips, catching at the back of his throat. He swallowed hard. Bittersweet dark chocolate colored his senses. "Oh. Fuck, that's good."

"It'll taste better on your dick."

"That's so corny," Micah said, but once again, the words were stolen from him by a shuttering curse when Alistair hot chocolate-drizzled his dick like a goddamn ice cream sundae banana.

And then, the devouring of Micah commenced and started with his lips.

For a man who, outside of sex, despised saliva, Alistair made a mess of Micah's mouth just then. Like a dog teased by a treat, Alistair sucked in excess before coating Micah's chin with his tongue and licking the stray splotches clean. He sucked the corners of Micah's lips before licking inside to clean his fucking teeth.

"Oh my God," was all Micah could manage in between attacks on his mouth.

Alistair licked incessantly down Micah's throat and into the hollow beneath his jaw where his tongue worked to swallow hard. Alistair's head tipped to the side to close his mouth over Micah's neck like he could take a chomp out of it like the side of a goddamn corndog.

His ravishing only escalated at Micah's collarbone. He sucked hard into the hollow there, slurping up every last drop of thickening fudge from the pool that had formed there. Alistair was careful not to touch him any lower, lest he smudge his prize, but Micah was shaking with restraint. At the sensations. At how horribly filthy Alistair was acting for someone claiming to be a germaphobe.

Micah wasn't normally a fan of having his nipples toyed with, but was nothing if not a master with his tongue. He rolled the bud between his teeth and sucked. Hard enough to hurt.

"Fuck," Micah choked out, back arching.

With his teeth latched gently around his nipple, thumbs pressing into the dips in Micah's hips, Alistair said, "Easy."

Micah didn't think he was an impatient person when it came to foreplay, but his body was on fire and he needed relief.

His hand gripped at Alistair's hair as his head delved lower, tongue kneading into his abdomen. The force he used on the rim of his belly button sent a shock of unexpected pain through him. It stung, for a second, as his tip breached inside and surrounded all of the entrance.

Alistair popped off with a particularly harsh suck that left Micah's stomach tingling with pleasurable discomfort. He knew his abdomen was spasming with every frantic breath. He couldn't get enough.

And then, to top it off, Alistair kissed down his length.

The fudge, despite being warmed by literally all of the blood in Micah's body migrating south, had turned thick and gooey on Alistair's lips. One kiss to Micah's tip was followed by Alistair prowling up the length of him to make out with him one last time.

"Don't wait for me," Alistair said, casually, like he hadn't just slobbered all over Micah's torso.

Made completely lopsided by Alistair's husky tone, Micah slumped onto one elbow, dizzy, and watched as the whole of him was swallowed down Alistair's throat in one go. The fudge pushed up around his lips, only to streak down the condom with every thrust Alistair made of his mouth.

Alistair popped off to swallow and lick the fudge up to the base. He laved open-mouthed kisses down Micah's length, sending Micah muffling a groan against the back of his hand as he fell to the towels and comforter in a daze.

The sensation was debilitating. Alistair cupped him underneath as he cleaned the condom, holding his erection firm like it was nothing but a utensil to eat his dessert with. Micah's thighs trembled to stay put when Alistair was rocking himself against Micah's knee. The friction there was made tacky by their freshly-cleaned bodies gathering sweat all over again.

Alistair swallowed him down again, this time hard and fast. Every extraction nearly sent Micah over the edge with how desperately Alistair hollowed his cheeks and pulled. And, to make matters worse, the hand Alistair cupped to the base of him to hold the condom steady played a dangerous game with his balls, massaging them, rubbing them until he came.

Alistair held Micah in his mouth as the condom became buoyant on his tongue with cum. He played with it, toyed with the beaded tip, and puckered his lips around it before leaning back onto Micah's legs.

"How was that," Alistair asked.

Micah was made unresponsive, dead by orgasm. With a hand flopped over his stomach, he stared at the ceiling and said, "Good."

"'Good'? That's all I get?"

Micah waved a hand, tired. "I'll be more articulate in the morning."

Alistair was in front of him once more. After having wiped his mouth off with a towel, all evidence that remained was in the redness of his skin and the smile on his lips. Micah kept his eyes closed until Alistair's voice leaned into his ear, a mere whisper, "I think we had an audience."

Micah's thoughts and prayers went to the couple in the corner apartment. He tipped his head toward the window and, though the couple was no longer against the pane, he caught a glimpse of the woman's backside as she crossed the room. They were barely visible just above the fold of the window. With the bed in the way, he doubted they'd seen anything.

"They were not watching us."

"It's kinda hot to think they could," Alistair suggested.

Micah tilted his head like he could see that idea before him in a different angle. By that point in life, he'd looked at it from every angle. Across the street, or in the same room. "So you're an exhibitionist."

"From a distance," Alistair said. "You?"

Micah studied him. He considered admitting to having watched Benny jerk off once when he didn't know Micah was at the flat. The story felt like it would become incestuous if he mentioned it to Benny's brother.

Instead, Micah glanced down at Alistair's erection hanging between Micah's legs. "Where do you think that's going?"

"Between your thighs."

Micah rolled his eyes. The preconceived assertion just made Micah want it less. "Presumptuous much."

Alistair pretended to consider something else. "Do you do blowjobs?"

"As of five seconds ago, no."

"Why?"

"Because I can't top whatever fucking crime you just committed on my dick." He reached down between them to prepare to take the condom off.

Alistair tipped to the side and onto his ass. He sat and watched as Micah stood, freed his dick from the condom, and tied it like a water balloon. Just as it swung limp in his hand, Alistair lurched out to snatch it.

Micah swung it away, out of reach. Alistair came at him with his big dick swinging and yanked Micah's arm down, hand in reach. He plucked the condom out of Micah's hand.

"What do you think you're gonna do with that?" Micah said.

"Have you ever slingshot one of these?"

"Um, no."

Micah followed him to the bathroom where, at the threshold, Alistair took aim. "Dude, it's gonna break."

"No it won't, trust me," he said, and promptly missed.

The condom went splat! on the wall next to the trash. The sound was made all the more satisfying by Micah's cum being there for special effects. It slapped onto the tiles unceremoniously.

"I'm not picking that up."

Micah sputtered, crying, "Why'd you slingshot it if you weren't gonna clean up after yourself when you missed?!"

Alistair was already at the charcuterie board picking his helping of cheeses and meats. Micah groaned, trudged across the bathroom, and remedied the littering travesty. In the mirror, he decided he didn't look terribly dirty, but he felt Alistair's saliva on him like a transparent glue film drying.

While Micah was taking his second shower of the early morning, he missed the sound of the front door closing. When he emerged, Alistair had vacated the premises with nearly half the charcuterie board gone and the eviscerated lava cake still on the tray.

The hotel-branded notepad next to the phone read: "Fuck you l8er, man."

Micah slapped his hand down with an exhausted, confused, and amused scoff. "Did I just get a blowjob from a suffer bro?" he thought aloud, astonished. If he was even talking to Kennedy or Benny now, he would have saved the note.

Just thinking about how little he wanted to share this with them now, he tore the paper in half and threw it in the bin. Without bothering to remedy the towel situation on his comforter, he face-planted on the bed to suffocate the unwanted heat burning in his eyes.

He wriggled his arms up from his sides to hug the pillow. 

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