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It had been a long time since Dennis allowed himself to praise Mac.
A long time.
“Did I do good, Dennis?”
Dennis let out a quiet hum of approval, the vibrations from his throat settling strangely on his tongue, making it tingle a little.
Mac's already too-bright eyes sparkled even more at a mere sound Dennis made. A deep gratification settled in him, getting nice and comfy in every nook and cranny in his body.
In the past, Dennis wouldn't have spared a glance in Mac's direction, but there was something that had changed in Mac recently.
Maybe he just got tired of how Dennis was treating him, or maybe he just got tired of Dennis.
(Which was a thought that Dennis did not lose sleep over, not at all.)
He was just doing this as a way to reward Mac. Nothing more. He just thought that Mac had been doing a pretty decent job of their schemes lately and maybe some encouragement would've spurred on the good behaviour.
He didn't want to prove to himself that Mac was still as obsessed with him and his approval as he had been just a few years ago.
Not at all.
-
It started off relatively slowly first.
Some barely-there touches, a few smiles of encouragement, small nods.
There was something in Dennis' stomach that wouldn't stop flipping every time he caught Mac's search gaze, waiting for some acknowledgement from him. A lot of the times, Dennis had to control himself from going too far with the praise, which surprised him.
He told himself he was just surprised at how easily he could get Mac wrapped around his finger again. Like the newfound independence that Mac had been (infuriatingly) fostering lately had never existed to begin with.
It should’ve made him feel powerful.
It did— but it wasn't enough.
It wasn't remotely enough.
Dennis felt something lacking, it wasn't the same as before. He wanted more.
He didn't spend too much time dwelling on that. He had bigger— (Frank and Charlie's piss bucket making a surprise appearance in Paddy's bigger) problems.
“What the hell is that thing doing here?” Dee screeched, her voice loud enough to cause an echo that bounced off the walls of the empty pub.
The smell caused Dennis to scrunch up his face in disgust, looking over at Mac who had pulled up the hem of his shirt to cover his nose exposing his abdomen.
It was ludicrous really, that Mac looked like that when they were already this old. Not that Dennis was complaining, but it was becoming increasingly harder to tear his gaze away each time Mac's shirt rode upwards.
Thankfully, Mac's attention was sternly on the piss bucket, wildly gesticulating with his free hand. He sounded faraway when his voice fell onto Dennis' ears, it sounded something like how Charlie needed to get the bucket out before scaring away any potential customers.
If Dennis had the wherewithal, he probably would've laughed at what Mac said.
Potential new customers? It's 11am on a Tuesday, Mac.
Instead, he watched Mac's muscles periodically tense over his arms and torso as he made gestures while yelling about God-knows-what to Charlie.
He really, really liked how Mac looked now. He'd softened a little since getting into shape a few years ago, the lines across his body were still visible but not as intensely as they once were. It was a very pretty middle that Mac had found and sustained shockingly well.
Something about how Mac he'd grown to have this slightly more mature air to him recently added to the appeal, like the fragile piece of glass that was rattling around in him at all times had begun growing as sturdy as the muscles underneath his skin.
Dennis distractedly wet his lips with his tongue and found that his throat had already run dry. He took a swig from his beer bottle, his eyes now wandering Mac's body. Over his happy trail, over his sternum, over his nipples. His eyes doing what his tongue couldn't.
Wait.
“Dennis?” It was Mac's voice, drowned out and almost unintelligible.
Dennis eyes were fixed on the point where Mac's collarbone met, covered by the fabric of his shirt.
“Hey, Dennis?” Still Mac's voice, concern lacing through and louder this time, snapping Dennis out of his reverie.
Shit. How long have they been waiting for a response?
“Are you okay, dude? You've been staring at Mac for, like, a minute straight now,” Charlie said as he took a step closer to Dennis, which he barely registered from his periphery. His eyes were still trained on Mac, on his eyes this time.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Dennis held out his hand to stop Charlie from going any closer, “I just don't feel too great right now, I'm gonna go home.”
Mac didn't break eye contact with him once.
There was something behind his eyes, something that Dennis couldn't really put his finger on.
Dennis felt heat creeping up his face, nipping at the tips of his ears. He inwardly let out a sigh of relief, knowing he'd put on a thin layer of foundation on them.
The ears always give it away.
He tore his eyes away from Mac's the absence of the honey-like brown nearly leaving him dizzy.
He allowed himself to stumble a little, just to make sure his point came across. Just like he suspected, it worked perfectly. Mac snapped out of whatever he was going through and took quick strides to where Dennis was, putting his hand on the small of his back to guide him to the door.
“You're kinda warm, dude. I think you might be coming down with something.” Mac's voice was so close now that it sent tingles down Dennis' spine.
“Where are you going?” Dee’s voice came calling after them.
“Where does it look like we're going? I’m taking him home you dumb bitch!”
It took all of Dennis' self-control to tamper the smile that was threatening to break his face in half.
It was almost too easy.
When Mac took the keys to drive them home a quiet panic began sprouting in Dennis. He didn't really think further than this, giving into his impulses. He just knew that he wanted him and Mac alone in a room together. He didn’t actually know what he wanted to do when he got that.
(He knew, he'd always known.)
Paddy's wasn't too far from their apartment. By the time they got home, Dennis hadn't even begun to sort through the tumult in his brain. Mac might have attempted to make conversation during their ride home, but Dennis had no idea— he was too far away.
“Den...nis?” Mac hesitated.
There was a little jump in his chest at that, quickly squandered by the tail end of his own name.
Den.
It was so simple, a single syllable that held a world of affection. Mac used to call him that all the time but just... stopped at some point. Maybe it had something to do with how Dennis started treating Mac, how he'd flinch just obviously enough when Mac called him Den to let him know that he didn't like being called that anymore.
He told himself it was childish to still be referred to as the name from his adolescent years, how he was an adult now, and how he'd be referred to as such.
(He told himself it had nothing to do with how his stomach felt like it had been thrown into a blender and was pulverised into mush every time Mac said it. It had nothing to do with how it sounded when it came out of Mac's mouth— how his tongue caressed the name because his hands would never be able to, like even his name was as precious as he was, to Mac. It had nothing to do with how only Mac ever called him that. It had nothing to do with how painfully intimate it felt every single time.)
He looked at Mac.
The hesitation in their mahogany.
They trudged upstairs, Mac's touch never quite leaving Dennis. something about how if Dennis fell then it would be easier to catch him.
Hm.
When they finally got into their apartment, there was a loud buzzing in Dennis' ears. His fingers itched to grab onto Mac.
Instead, he took off his shoes and threw himself on the couch. Without waiting, Mac made a beeline for the kitchen to make them both some tea.
There was that little lurch in Dennis' chest again.
That feeling was becoming harder and harder to ignore. It had become a lot more frequent (it had always been frequent) and Dennis had no idea why (he knew, probably).
His thoughts left him again, only coming back to himself when he felt the couch next to him sink under mac's weight. He was handing the tea to Dennis, who gladly accepted, brushing his fingers against Mac's as he took the cup from him.
He didn't miss the way Mac's eyes darted to the point of contact, taking a second too long to pull away. It made something in Dennis' chest warm a little.
When Mac pulled back, Dennis blew at the tea, taking a sip when it was cooled. Leaving the cup tipped a little too long to hide the blush that had begun creeping up his cheeks again. Just so that he'd have an excuse about why his face was red if the blush accidentally bled through the foundation.
Not that Mac would ask anyway.
When he brought the cup back down to his hands, he shifted a little closer to Mac's side of the couch. It wasn't as smooth as he was hoping, he moved too inelegantly and accidentally ended up making the tea slosh around in the cup.
Mac's head whipped in Dennis' direction.
Well.
It was now or never.
“Mac.” Dennis said, hoping that somehow Mac wouldn't hear the slight quiver in his voice.
“Yeah?”
“Why don't you ever call me that anymore?”
Mac furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at that, the stupid puppy dog look that he always sported felt like a punch to the gut.
Don't kick a man when he's down, Mac, come on.
Dennis hesitated for a second before responding, “Den. You never call me that anymore.”
“Are you serious? You said you didn't want me calling you that anymore.” Mac said, his voice laced with a bitterness he was trying to conceal.
“Well, I’m permitting you to call me that.” Dennis winced a little at how that sounded. He opened his mouth to correct himself but closed it when he realised his voice was stuck in his throat.
He looked at Mac, trying to plead with his eyes. He wasn't anywhere near as good as Mac was at that, but he was hoping that would get the message across.
And so, it did.
Far be it from Mac to ever deny himself any form of special treatment from Dennis, no matter what that might entail.
“Seriously?” Mac asked, searching Dennis' eyes.
Always searching.
He sounded excited, like, really excited. Dennis couldn't fight it when his lips quirked upwards into a smile. He felt Mac tense a little.
“Yeah, 'course.” Dennis followed up quickly, knowing Mac thought he was mocking him when he smiled.
There was a flash of pain in his chest, but he couldn't say he didn't deserve it.
Mac sat in silence for a while. Fidgeting with the loose threads on the hem of his shirt, the corner of the pillow on the couch, running his fingers against the rim of the cup. After what felt like forever, Mac finally steeled himself and looked at Dennis.
“Okay, Den.”
Mac was smiling. Smiling without a care in the world, like getting to say that name again was some sort of gift, like the letters held the world.
Dennis' brain felt muddled.
He didn't realise what he was doing until he leaned in and felt Mac's breath against his lips. Each breath cut like an arrow through the haze, clearing Dennis' mind.
He should’ve pulled away.
He didn't.
(Of course he didn't.)
His eyes flashed up to meet Mac's.
Mac was looking at him, apprehension painted across his features, not knowing whether to move forward, not wanting to move back.
Dennis inched further so that their lips could meet— earning himself a sharp inhale from Mac. All it took was a breath. Dennis had no idea how fragile the thing he held in his hands was, the already tense thread had been pulled to its limit with the whole Johnny thing, they had barely just come back from it and Dennis just had to ruin it.
A single breath and Dennis was pulling away, preparing to shut down to stop his insecurities from ripping him to shreds. He didn't even know if Mac kissed him back before he started to get up to leave.
Luckily, this was Mac.
His best friend in the world, the man that knew him better than he knew himself. Before Dennis could fully lift himself off the couch, Mac pulled him back towards him. It was a few awkward seconds of Dennis flailing to steady himself before he inevitably crashed face first, directly into Mac.
When he finally steadied himself, Mac was still firmly holding onto his wrist, like he wanted to feel Dennis' thundering pulse to make sure what was happening to him was real. With his lips parted and his eyes blown wide, he looked at Dennis.
And Dennis was floored.
He wasn't sure he had ever seen Mac look like this before, his usual puppy dog expression turned all the way up, a blush steadily growing more and more apparent against his tan skin. So lost and vulnerable and hopeful.
His eyes could have put entire galaxies to shame, Dennis was sure he'd never seen a single star shine as brightly.
He barely blinked— Dennis got a little worried at how dry his eyes would get if he kept this up any longer.
“Mac,”
“Did you... um— could you, like, kiss me again?” Mac asked, just barely able to stumble through his words.
Dennis didn't oblige immediately, he took a second longer to look at Mac's face, look into his eyes. Some irrational part in his brain telling him to figure out whether Mac had been fucking with him this whole time, like how if he gave in now Mac would win. He would have made a fool out of Dennis.
Like one time of many, Dennis completely ignored his subconscious and leaned in for a second kiss.
It was longer this time, Mac actually kissed back. His lips were so, so soft— so gentle against Dennis' own. Perfectly matching Dennis' intensity and speed, waiting for him to make his move.
The angle Dennis was in was quickly becoming uncomfortable, Mac still hadn't let go of his hand. His knee was perched on Mac's thigh, digging into it. Mac's neck looked like it was turned into an angle that couldn't possibly have been comfortable for him.
Dennis broke from the kiss for a second before adjusting himself so that he could straddle Mac, using his free hand to brace himself against his chest. The contact made Mac gasp, and Dennis used that opening to kiss him again, deepening it.
Mac, always desperate to please, kissed him back in earnest.
Dennis had always fancied himself a good kisser, he had it down to a science— there was nothing inherently enjoyable about it usually, it was just a means to an end.
When Mac ran his tongue along the roof of Dennis' mouth a shiver went down to his spine, carrying heat down into his abdomen, reeling from how good something as small as a kiss could feel.
Dennis felt a flash of embarrassment at how fast his heartbeat had gotten, but Mac's hands on his waist and ass quickly drowned it out. Mac was pulling Dennis flush against his body, tightening his grip.
Dennis' fingers found Mac's jaw and nape, exploring to his hearts content. The beard underneath his fingertips prickled at the sensation, drawing a slight gasp from Mac, like he couldn't believe what was happening.
Dennis pulled back again to look at Mac— revel in the look of worship in his eyes, at the way his lips were spit slick and red, at the way he chased after Dennis' mouth.
The blood rushed to Dennis' dick at a dizzying speed, grinding down against Mac's stomach, blown away by the sight before him. Mac's eyes shot down to the point of contact, gritting to bite back the groan threatening to escape him.
“Dennis.”
Mac's voice sent another wave of arousal through Dennis, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
“Get up. I’m not fucking you on the couch.”
Dennis' brows shot up to his hairline at mac's command, a full body shudder wracking through him. All Mac did was kiss him and talk to him, but Dennis was so hard that it hurt.
Without a second thought, Dennis scrambled to get off Mac, grabbing the hand on his waist to pull him up.
Mac looked dazed.
He looked pretty.
As they were walking towards Dennis' bedroom, he tried to make quick work of his shirt buttons, trying to undo them with his free hand. He only got two buttons undone before Mac slapped his hand out of the way.
“I wanna take it off.”
As if under a trance, Dennis stilled his hand and looked at Mac. He pushed Dennis onto the bed and straddled him. His lips found Dennis' again, slow and open-mouthed and filthy.
Mac's fingers were surprisingly stable as they undid Dennis' shirt, his head dipping lower to kiss and nip at his neck. His hands wandered all over Dennis' torso, as if trying to map out his body with the tips of his fingers.
As if to commit it to memory.
Dennis' fingers found Mac's hair, clutching at the brown locks. Watching as Mac ghosted his lips over his nipples, earning a soft groan from Dennis. Mac's hand climbed up his side to roll his other nipple between his forefinger and thumb. The barely-there stimulation made Dennis arch his back to chase after the friction.
Mac had been careful to keep a reasonable distance between the both of them, so that even if Dennis tried, he wouldn't be able to get the friction he wanted. Mac wanted this to last.
He continued downwards, pulling off Dennis' belt in a singular motion and yanking his pants and boxers down to his ankles, which he kicked off.
Mac continued kissing Dennis' thighs, who was fighting everything in him to stop himself from begging Mac to fuck him. Mac was tantalisingly close to his dick, the heat from his body setting Dennis on fire.
Mac continued peppering kisses and biting gently at his thighs and pelvis, showing no sign of urgency.
An act of worship.
“Mac,” Dennis said, the closest thing he let himself come to begging.
Mac's attention was torn from his thighs back to his face. Dennis nearly averted his eyes from the intensity of Mac's stare, a sense of insecurity creeping up the back of his throat.
“You look so pretty like this, Den.”
Dennis' breath hitched at that. There was a hint of something wicked in Mac's voice.
“Mac, come on,” dangerously close to begging.
“What do you want me to do? You have to tell me, Den.”
There it was again.
“Fuck me, please. Please, Mac.”
He smiled and Dennis' stomach flipped.
Instead of giving in like Dennis thought he would, Mac got up and made his way to Dennis' bedside table to get the lube and condoms that were kept there, taking his clothes off at the same time.
Before Dennis had a second to think about why Mac knew where he kept his lube, he pointed at the condom, “I’m clean, I got tested last month. You?”
“Yeah, I’m clean too,” Mac said, “wait, do you want to—”
“I want to feel you.”
Mac froze, he looked at Dennis like he didn’t believe what he said. He threw the bottle of lube aside and stumbled back to the bed, hungrily raking in the sight before him.
Dennis had actually meant that, but he couldn't help that it finally got Mac to pay attention to his cock.
Mac pulled a pillow from the head of the bed and lifted Dennis from the small of his back to place it there, to make sure he was comfortable.
Mac situated himself between Dennis' legs, kneeling there like he was praying before laying on his stomach. He grabbed Dennis' cock, he squeezed lightly at the base and licked a stripe up the underside of it, flicking his tongue against the frenulum. Dennis couldn't help the moan that was ripped from him, his chest was starting to heave.
“Fuck, Den. You sound so pretty.”
As a reward, Mac wrapped his mouth around the head and swirling his tongue around it, pressing lightly into the slit. He took his time slowly taking Dennis down his throat, his warm tongue dragging against the shaft.
His hands were on Dennis' hips to hold him down whenever he tried to buck into Mac's throat, going agonisingly slow. His thumb was rubbing small, comforting circles against Dennis' skin.
Dennis fought the urge to throw his head back to watch Mac because, fuck, he looked good like this.
“You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, holy shit.”
Mac moaned at that, rutting into the mattress beneath him. The vibrations from his throat shot directly into Dennis' groin, completely halting his train of thought. The sight of Mac getting off on being praised made him painfully aware of how close his own orgasm was.
He tapped Mac's hand, “Mac, you gotta stop— I’m gonna cum if you keep going.”
Dennis' cock dropped out of Mac's mouth with an obscene pop, a line of spit connecting it with his bottom lip. He licked his lips, softly dragging his fingers up Dennis' shaft. He trembled at the touch.
“Don't you wanna cum?”
“Not yet— I want to cum when you're inside me.”
“Shit, Dennis. I’m not gonna last if you keep talking like that.”
Mac's voice already sounded so fucked out, it was husky and deep, every word he said sent jolts of electricity through Dennis.
Mac's head dipped between Dennis' legs again, this time putting them over his shoulders and spreading Dennis' cheeks.
Dennis gasped and mac looked at him questioningly, silently seeking his approval once again. He nodded.
When Mac pressed his lips against his hole, Dennis gasped, the realisation that he'd never let anyone do this before settling in his stomach like lead.
He started slowly, his tongue running up the ridges of the puckered flesh there, working soft moans out of Dennis. When Mac finally dipped his tongue into Dennis, he felt like he was melting.
Dennis was moaning like it was being punched out of him, unable to stop even if he tried. Not wanting to try, because he wanted Mac to hear him, to know how good this was for him.
“That's so good, you're so good, Mac. You feel so good— oh my god, please. Please.”
He was blabbering— the praise came spilling out of him without abandon, the hands that were fisted in his sheets came up to tug at Mac's hair. Wave after wave of pleasure slammed into him, destroying his ability to string together sentences.
Dennis' brain was only able to formulate one coherent thought.
Mac would like it if I came with his tongue in me.
When it came down to it, the only thought that was running around his mind was what Mac would want, what he would like.
He began chasing his orgasm, knowing exactly what he had to do. His moans became high pitched and needy, he moved his hand from Mac's hair to hold onto the hand resting on his waist.
One look at Mac was all it took— Dennis' whole body became rigid, locking Mac's head in place as his hand quickly reached up to his cock to stroke him through his orgasm. He went light-headed for a second, his vision going dotty.
By the time he came to, he saw Mac had been staring at him, rubbing circles on his thigh.
“That was so hot Den— you should've seen yourself, like, if the cameras are still running you gotta watch it over, dude. that was like the hottest thing I've ever seen—”
Dennis' head was still a little foggy, he couldn't fully catch what Mac was saying, but his cleared the second he shifted to get off the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“I wanted to get you cleaned up,” Dennis could hear the smile in his voice.
“No, I told you I wanted to cum with you inside me, I still want you to fuck me.”
He'd wanted it to sound confident, but his voice sounded like his throat had been rubbed raw and his legs still hadn't stopped shaking. Overall, probably not the effect Dennis was really going for.
“What? Are you serious?”
Dennis nodded.
“Do you want to like, wait, or?”
“No, now.”
Dennis' initial hesitation vanished at the sight of the grin that broke from Mac's face, he'd messed around with overstimulation before and it could be said that he wasn't the biggest fan. But he wanted this.
He needed it.
Mac grabbed the lube from the nightstand and settled into his spot between Dennis' legs again, not waiting for any further encouragement from the man below him.
He squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, rubbing them to warm it up. Dennis' legs had given out, he could barely keep them up, so mac spread his legs further so that Dennis could rest his on them.
The new position gave Dennis the perfect opportunity to ogle at Mac's dick. He'd seen it many, many times before, but never like this.
It looked downright angry, the tip was swollen and red and weeping from how horny Mac was. Dennis’ dick twitched at the sight.
He licked his lips and looked up to meet Mac's eyes, who'd been staring at him for probably as long as he was staring at Mac's dick.
The moment their eyes met; Mac leaned down to kiss him again with an urgency that he'd been forcing away. Dennis liked it. A lot.
He could taste himself on Mac, he revelled in it. His fingers teased Dennis' hole, never quite entering, but Dennis could feel the slight tremble in his fingers. His spent dick twitching again at the thought of how hard Mac was trying to hold back, at what it would feel like if he were to stop being so careful with him.
Mac rutted into Dennis' thigh, moaning into his mouth. Dennis gasped at that, and Mac finally pushed the first finger in. There was no resistance because Mac had already opened him up a little earlier, but that didn't stop him from taking his time, one finger at a time.
The pain from his cock trying to get hard again shot through him repeatedly, making his whole body tense. Mac cooed in his ear, trying to get him to relax as he put a second finger in and started scissoring.
“You look so beautiful, Den. look at you, you're so pretty— I love hearing you, you sound like an angel. You're doing so good for me, Den.”
Mac's breath was hot against Dennis' ear, everything he said shot waves of warmth into him.
By the time Mac got a third finger in, Dennis was half hard and a mess. Mac had found his prostrate and kept brushing against it with each brush of his fingers. He kept clawing at Mac's back, begging him to fuck him. Chanting his name over and over like it was some kind of prayer, like their positions had switched and it was finally Dennis worshipping Mac.
“Mac, Mac— Mac, please. I’m ready, please fuck me, please.”
Dennis wasn't sure whether he'd ever begged this much for anything, ever.
After what felt like eons, Mac finally leaned back to line his cock up with Dennis' hole. He slowly pushed into Dennis, marvelling at the heat. He pushed in slowly, giving Dennis enough time to get used to the slight stretch.
Mac's hand wandered again as he bottomed out. His fingers slowly dragged up Dennis' thighs, his nails gently scratching against the soft skin. His hand moved upwards until he finally ran his fingers over Dennis' dick, wrapping his hand around it. Dennis hissed at the contact, and his leg twitched where it was resting over Mac's thigh.
Mac started with shallow thrusts, barely pulling out before gently pushing back in, letting Dennis get accustomed to the sensation. Each thrust was deeper than the last, he'd pull out almost all the way before grinding down into Dennis.
When Mac found his prostate, Dennis keened. Mac began hitting that spot with every roll of his hips, the stimulation made Dennis see stars. Sounds that he didn't even know himself capable of kept being torn from him.
Mac watched in awe, his rhythm slowing down every now and again to keep himself from finishing.
“Oh fu— fuck,” Dennis gasped, “Jesus Christ, you feel so good. Fuck, you— oh my god.”
Mac's thrusts sped up to a punishing pace, his eyes never left Dennis once. There were beads of sweat on his temples, and his entire body had taken on this beautiful rosy colour to match his lips. Dennis had never seen Mac look like this before, focused with moans slipping out of him every time he snapped his hips.
There was something about the way Mac looked at him that drove Dennis to the edge, his needy little whines chasing after his orgasm.
“Mac, I'm gonna—”
Mac didn't even think before jerking Dennis off in tandem with his thrusts, he wanted to watch Dennis finish. His eyes started rolling to the back of his head as he came, his body seizing. His voice sounded so far away from him, so broken that it was almost unrecognisable.
He nearly blacked out before he realised that Mac's legs had begun shaking, he was close. Dennis wrapped his weak legs around Mac and clenched as hard as he could, lifting his face to kiss him.
When Mac finished, he moaned into Dennis' mouth and tightened his grip on his waist so hard that Dennis knew he would have bruises there the next day.
Mac rested his forehead against Dennis as the last of his orgasm wracked through him, his eyes were screwed shut and Dennis realised he wanted nothing more than to see them.
“Mac,” he said softly.
Mac opened his eyes slowly, unfocused and content. Dennis watched as some clarity slowly returned to them, and Mac pulled his dick out of Dennis, the both of them wincing at the sensation.
Dennis felt the wetness roll down his ass and shuddered, there was something carnal deep down inside him that loved the feeling.
Mac had rolled over to lay down on his back, his hand left Dennis' waist to hold onto his hand instead. His heart skipped at the intimacy.
He wanted to roll to his side to kiss Mac again, but he flinched at the contact against his dick, so he settled for craning his neck to look at Mac.
Unsurprisingly, Mac had already been looking at him.
“What's up?” He asked.
“Nothing, I just want to kiss you.”
Mac's brows shot up to his hairline, evidently not expecting to hear that from Dennis. For a second, he didn't move an inch and Dennis could’ve sworn he saw the cogs in Mac's brain turning.
Before leaning in to kiss him, Mac propped himself up on his forearm and brushed a damp curl from Dennis' forehead, letting his hand run from his hair down to his ear and jaw. He cupped Dennis' cheek and leaned in to kiss him, slow and unhurried.
Mac pulled away and it took everything in Dennis to stop himself from asking where he was going, and Mac, as if reading his mind responded.
“I’ll be right back, I'm gonna get something to get us cleaned up.” He flashed a smile, so bright that Dennis almost looked away.
He made his way to the bathroom and quickly walked out with a washcloth, sitting on the bed to gently clean Dennis. Once he was done, he tossed the cloth off to the side, gesturing to Dennis.
“You gotta get up man, we need to get you showered and take these sheets off.”
“I can't walk dude, and I don't think I want to move, to be honest." Dennis responded.
Mac caught the first half of the sentence and puffed his chest in pride, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
“I could carry you,” he suggested.
“Yeah, yeah sure, whatever. Just don't— don't drop me.”
“Never.”