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It’s dark in the hotel room. It has been for a while— the street lights of Key Largo filtering through the window are the only thing illuminating the room, bathing everything in a dim, golden glow.
It’s late and they’ve both have completely lost track of time; Avery is pressed against the bed, the full weight of Cohen’s body on him as he fucks him senseless.
All things considered, the date has been going pretty well. It had been a little awkward at first, with both of them dancing around most subjects that normal people talk about, but they’d managed to pull through dinner admirably. They joked and they laughed and they both acknowledged that they probably shouldn’t be doing this as they made out in the elevator on the way to the room they’d just rented.
I think it makes it even better, Cohen had admitted, one thigh pressed between Avery’s legs, wandering hands making their way under his shirt.
Avery, shameless, had rubbed himself against him, sighing his agreement between open mouthed kisses that they both desperately tried —and failed— to keep chaste.
It’s hours later, now. The room smells like sweat and sex and neither of them are anywhere near being done with each other. Cohen has made Avery come enough times that he’s lost count already, making him all loose-limbed and drunk with pleasure. Nothing in that moment matters more than the way that he greedily and possessively grips his hip as he fucks into him, sweaty and unhurried. It borders on sweet— he kisses Avery between shaky moans, one hand pushing the hair back from his face, his fingers running through the dark blond locks as he pets him.
“So good to me,” he sighs, leaning down to kiss his neck, rubbing his face against Avery’s beard. “You’re so good to me, baby.”
Baby, he calls him. Baby and sweet and good boy— making Avery tremble with each bit of praise that leaves his mouth.
Avery whimpers, his legs squeezing Cohen, urging him to move faster.
“Please,” he begs, and his voice doesn’t sound like his own anymore, dripping with desperation and hoarse from moaning. “Cohen, fuck- I’m so close.”
It earns him a pleased chuckle and an open mouthed kiss that makes him whine. “Again, baby? How many times is that, already?”
“Seven,” Avery lies. He has no fucking idea. He paws at Cohen’s back, finding purchase on the lean muscle there and holding on for dear life. His insides squeeze Cohen’s dick as he pulls his hips back and Avery’s eyes briefly roll back in pleasure. “-Ten. God. I don’t know. Please.”
Cohen’s hips stutter when Avery begs and he stops for a moment, breathing heavily through his nose, squeezing his hip again before moving up to frame his face with both arms.
“Fuck, you’re so- fuck. Avery.” He gives him one hard, long thrust that makes Avery’s toes curl. He’s close, too, his entire body burning with need. Heat pools deep in his gut and his cock throbs with it, but he doesn’t want to come, not yet— it’ll be his third time this night, and he knows his own limitations.
He pulls out hard and fast, before the stimulation gets to him, and Avery whines like he’s been wounded, pulling at him to come back, pleading in between frustrated noises that he can't seem to keep quiet. Cohen shushes him, sweet and drunk on pleasure. Desperate, too, to please him. All he wants is to make him come again and again until Avery forgets his own name, until he forgets how to talk.
“Shh- I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
Avery nods, and when he kisses him his lips are trembling, his entire body wound tight. He doesn’t want to let him go, too fucking needy, but relaxes slightly when Cohen starts kissing his way down his body, his hands squeezing appreciatively everything he touches— he rubs at his shoulder, hand trailing down and squeezing a strong bicep that Avery flexes on instinct; the soft muscle of his chest, then, and the hardness of his nipples. He caresses both of them, laughing when he gives them a lick and Avery’s entire body bucks up, fucked and touched to a point of near over-sensitivity.
“What are you doing to me,” Avery asks the ceiling, tangling his fingers on Cohen’s short hair, pushing at him gently, trying to get him to go lower still. “God.”
Cohen kisses down Avery’s stomach, extra appreciative of the softness there, the way that it blankets the hard muscle underneath. He’s told him before, how hot he finds him— everything about Avery is built for strength and efficiency. It makes for a really great sight.
What he hasn’t shared is how fucking good it is to have Avery undone under him like this. It’s too much, too close to his chest, but he can’t help but think about it anyways. It’s such a rush to have a man that could snap him in half submit so prettily to him.
“Oh, yeah, that’s me,” he smiles, running his hands down Avery’s flanks.
Avery laughs, out of breath, hazy eyes focusing on Cohen. He pets his face, sliding a thumb over his lips that Cohen catches with his mouth and lightly sucks on. Avery shivers, stuttering out a sigh. “This is getting to your head.”
“Kinda hard not to, in my defense.”
He gets pulled up for another kiss, one he happily goes for, laughing when Avery presses him close with his legs again, trying to get him back inside.
“So needy,” Cohen accuses, still laughing, so very tempted to fuck back into him. He slides the wet head of his cock against Avery’s hole and then up against the hardness of his clit, teasing a moan out of him— it feels like a reward for his self control.
“Yes.”
“For me?” He rubs their cocks together again and then goes back to teasing his hole, pressing the tip of the head inside— nothing more. The warm, wet heat of him makes Cohen feel dizzy with want, and the effort to stay still is taking years off his life. He wants nothing more to sink back in and fuck Avery senseless.
“-Yes. Cohen.” It sounds so urgent. It’s lovely. He shouldn’t like it so much. He exhales through his nose, wrestling with his self-control.
“You sound so pretty like that, fuck.”
“Ah-”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Cohen-”
He begs, but he doesn’t say what he wants, so Cohen pulls his hips back, moving away from Avery’s hole, instead choosing to press his full erection against Avery’s, making him whine again, and this time it really sounds like he might cry.
“Come on,” he kisses his neck, his chest, mouths at the soft line of the surgery scars nestled there while he rubs their cocks together. “Be a good boy. Tell me.”
“Mh-” Avery tries and Cohen thwarts that attempt by pressing a little more insistently against him, feeling the hardness of his clit rubbing against the underside of his cock. It’s so damn good he might come just like that if he’s not careful. Avery whines again, a high, desperate sound that escapes him as he tries to press his thighs together, bucking against the pressure, seeking more.
“What’s that?” He stops moving again, and it takes considerable effort to talk like he’s not just every bit as desperate as Avery. “I didn’t catch that, baby.”
“I need you-” Avery tries again, his voice starting to get shaky. He paws at him again, seeking something to hold on to. He gets one hand on the back of his neck, carefully filed nails scratching at the skin there; his other one finding his lower back to press him down and up against him, seeking more friction.
Cohen shivers and curses when scratched, nearly coming on the spot. Avery does it again and again, getting his back, too.
“Fuck- shit. Avery. Yeah? You need me?”
“Yes. Yes- Please. Keep fucking me, I can’t- I need-”
A full body shiver runs through Cohen. He doesn’t have it in him to tease him any more.
“I’m going to cum real quick if I do that,” he warns, and Avery, bless him, whines again, seeking his mouth to kiss him, clumsy and messy.
“Oh, fuck- please,” he begs again, sneaking one hand between them to grab Cohen’s hard cock, tilting his hips back to direct him against his hole, needier than before. God, they shouldn’t be fucking raw either, but this whole thing has been a string of dangerously stupid decisions, so what’s one more?
“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, baby?” There’s nothing Cohen wants more right that second. He rubs the wet head of his cock against Avery’s hole again, and Avery, satisfied, pulls back his hand.
“Yes, fuck, please-” Avery scratches him again, wrapping his legs around him, locking his ankles around his back. “God, cum inside me, please-”
“Fuck.” Cohen moans he starts to push inside, the wet glide around the head enough to make him lose his mind. Avery feels hot like a fever, squeezing him in a vice grip as Cohen desperately fucks every single inch back into him.
He holds on to Avery, pressing his full weight on him again. He spreads his thighs to get as much of himself inside as he can, moaning as he buries himself to the hilt. He feels the head of his cock lightly press against something— and the realization that he’s filling Avery completely makes his cock leak dangerously. It shouldn’t be so hot that he fits so perfectly inside, Avery surrounding him like a sleeve made just for him.
“You feel so good-” Avery gasps, pulling him as close as he can, pressing his face against Cohen’s. He kisses his cheek, the high point of his cheekbone, his ear. “-So fucking good.”
“Ah-” Cohen groans as he starts pistoning into him, merciless now in the way that he fucks Avery— pulling almost all the way out before driving back inside, hard and fast, just how Avery needs it, just the way Cohen knows he likes best. It’s fucking perfect, better than anything he’s had in years, and it’s so damn hard to keep himself quiet when it feels so good; he can’t stop himself from moaning his praise for Avery. He calls him good and pretty and so fucking perfect for me, baby.
Avery clings to him, to his back, reduced to a fucked out mess that breathes out every time Cohen bottoms out inside, clenching hard with every roll of their hips- ah, ah, ah.
“-I’m close,” Cohen manages to mumble between moans, feeling himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm. It’s a miracle he’s lasted as long as he’s had.
Avery grinds on his cock a little harder, moaning an out of breath litany of yes, please, and inside. It’s driving Cohen crazy in the best possible way— it’s so fucking good that in that moment of bliss he doesn’t care about anything else. He doesn’t think of the dangers of sleeping with a guy like Avery or how his back is definitely going to feel it in the morning. It’s fucking perfect.
He kisses him again and again and again, nice and deep, only coming back up for air when they really need it.
“You look so good like this, baby- so fucking pretty for me-” The words just leave his mouth as he thinks them.
“Mh-” Avery makes a choked sound and kisses him, licking at his open mouth. He sucks on his bottom lip, making a pleased sound when Cohen kisses him back.
“Cohen-” Avery warns. Begs, maybe. It’s so hard to tell, at times. He’s holding on to his back for dear life —hands squeezing tight wherever they can reach— and Cohen is sure that he’ll carry those bruises and scratches for weeks to come.
“Fuck- Avery.”
It’s so fucking good.
He wants so much more of it, and so he takes more— He slides one hand between their bodies to press two fingers against Avery’s hard dick, rubbing at his erection over the delicate hood of skin, at the same time roughly thumbing the sensitive, engorged head at the rhythm of their hips. Avery bucks under him and curses, whimpering as his cunt clenches, spasming out of control, so Cohen does it again and again, forcing another orgasm out of him— and doesn’t stop.
“Fuck-!” Avery whines, a broken sound that turns into something close to sobbing from the over-stimulation. He clenches again, hard, and the sounds of their fucking turns sloppier as he comes, clear liquid gushing out of him, soaking the mess of bedsheets under them. Cohen has just enough clarity to fuck him through it, relentless, rubbing until Avery wordlessly comes again, shaking, his body trying to curl into itself. His squirt is all over Cohen’s cock, dribbling down their thighs, adding to the mess already made.
Cohen’s heart beats wildly in his chest and he manages to mumble good boy, good boy- before he comes, too. He thrusts as deep as he can, his hips stuttering as he fucks Avery through his own orgasm, releasing spurt after spurt of hot, warm cum. It doesn’t take long before the over-stimulation becomes unbearable and he stills inside, feeling his cock pulse as the last of his cum dribbles out of him, completely spent.
His head swims with the intensity of his orgasm and he closes his eyes, leaning his head on Avery’s good shoulder with a shaky sigh, still inside of him as he catches his breath. Underneath him, Avery shakes, although the grip on him has relaxed, his hands now loosely holding on to him, probably just as fucked-out as he is.
Cohen kisses Avery’s shoulder, once, twice, before moving up his neck to do the same— he feels his pulse, fast and rabbit-like against his mouth, and he kisses that, too. He moves back down and starts over, licking the sweat off his skin in places, following that up with more kisses. He runs a hand through Avery’s hair again, giving in to the urge to pet him. Avery moves a little, too, sighing and rubbing his face against Cohen’s hand, silently asking for more pets, something that Cohen happily obliges. He scratches at his beard and at the spot behind Avery’s ear he already knows he loves.
Avery gently, slowly, rubs at his back over the scratches, and it feels like an apology for the damage. He lazily —sweetly— moves his hands up and down along his back, deft fingers tracing along the line of his spine.
They stay like that for a while, breathing loudly, exhausted.
“You good?” He asks eventually, when he feels himself coming back down to earth. He pulls out slowly, carefully, and Avery whines quietly, mourning the loss.
He’s fucked, he realizes. He’s so fucked. He knows he won't be able to think of anything but this for a good, long while.
“Yeah,” Avery mumbles, voice completely shot. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, I’m- So good.”
Cohen smiles and takes that as permission to carefully roll to Avery’s side, landing in the mattress with a quiet thud. Avery is staring at him through half lidded eyes, still a little out of it. Good, he thinks. It would hurt his pride a little if he were fully conscious and aware so soon after all of that.
He thinks of making a joke, something funny to say. Nothing comes to mind.
“Come here,” he says instead, making some space between them, opening one arm for Avery to crawl there.
Avery stares at him, a tad more aware as he considers him, and Cohen is briefly reminded of a big cat. The man surely bites like one, too. Still, he waits, letting Avery figure the situation out.
“Okay,” he decides after a moment, dragging himself to lay at his side, resting his head on Cohen’s chest. He’s tense for a while until Cohen rubs his back, gently coaxing it out of him. He hums, content, and Cohen answers in kind. “...We should’ve put a towel down.”
Cohen chuckles, earning himself a small swat on his thigh.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s fine. We’ll sleep on this side of the bed.”
“Next time,” Avery says.
Cohen really likes what that implies.
“Next time.”