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Awsten was in the middle of telling a story that had already made him laugh three times before he'd gotten to the punchline.
Michael wasn't fully following it anymore. It had branched twice already and showed no signs of arriving anywhere. He was lying back against the headboard, legs stretched out across the bed, watching Awsten sit cross-legged at the foot of it . He had turned toward Michael, hands going, completely absorbed in his own story.
Then he laughed. Loud. Louder than necessary, louder than the moment probably warranted. The kind of laugh that took over his whole face before he could do anything about it. Eyes creasing, something slightly ridiculous happening to his expression, completely gone on his own story.
Someone else might have cringed. Told Awsten he was being too loud. Michael didn't.
He watched the laugh take over Awsten's whole face and felt it. Low and immediate, that specific want that had no patience for logic. The curve of Awsten's throat. The way his expression did that thing, not a thought in his head about how he looked.
Ten thousand times. It still hit him the same way every single time and Michael found that almost funny at this point.
Awsten looked over to check if Michael was laughing too.
He found Michael already watching.
The laugh softened. A smile settled on his face, unhurried, meant specifically for Michael. Eye contact held a beat longer than it needed to be.
Michael felt the want sharpen into something more like certainty.
"Hey. Pup?"
Awsten's whole expression eased open. He looked at Michael with soft, certain eyes.
"Yes, Mikey?"
Michael smiled. Awsten smiled back.
Michael stood from the bed. Awsten watched him cross to the nightstand without being asked. By now he always knew.
When Michael turned back, collar in hand, Awsten was already waiting.
𐂯
Wet sounds filled the room. Awsten's small whimpers. The soft, familiar jingle of his collar.
Michael had been lenient tonight, more than usual, and he could see Awsten taking full advantage. Could feel it in the way those kisses kept turning greedy, the way Awsten tilted his head and lapped further into his mouth every time Michael let him. Normally there'd be a correction by now. A firm hand pulling him back, a quiet easy. But Michael let him take it, warm palms kneading slow circles into the bare skin of Awsten's hips, and watched his pup use every inch of the slack he'd been given.
He felt soft for Awsten tonight. Had felt it since the laugh, since that particular smile. It hadn't gone anywhere.
When Awsten shifted to get more comfortable, his bare cock dragged against Michael's clothed stomach. The tail plug shifted with the movement, pressing deep, and Awsten had to break the kiss on a breathless whimper.
Michael pulled back to look at him.
The flush had spread all the way to the tips of Awsten's ears. Soft plush puppy ears sat slightly askew on top of his head, the collar with its special tag around his neck, his tail draped loosely behind him over Michael's legs. His lips were red and wet from kissing, his eyes already going that specific softness Michael knew by now.
Michael reached out and thumbed the engraving on the tag.
Mikey's pup.
He'd taken Awsten to that pet shop three months ago. Led him by the hand to the tag machine in the back, watched Awsten's face go red as other customers wandered past, completely unaware. Awsten had shifted his weight nervously as he pointed to the design he liked best on the touchscreen.
Michael had made him type the words himself. Watched those hands tremble over the letters with that calm, patient expression, like it wasn't strange, like it was only embarrassing because Awsten was making it embarrassing. He could have ordered something custom, had it delivered. But he'd wanted to see Awsten's face at that machine. Had wanted exactly what he got.
But the second that tag jingled under Awsten's chin for the first time, all the embarrassment vanished. Awsten had beamed up at him, practically glowing.
Mine, Michael had thought then.
Mine, he thought now.
A whine pulled him back to the present. Awsten was looking at him with those eyes, wide and plaintive, impatient in the way only Awsten could make impatient look endearing. He'd been without attention for almost a full minute and had apparently reached his limit.
Michael tugged on the metal ring of the collar. The sound Awsten made was not subtle.
"I want you to do something for me, pup."
Michael brought his hand up to Awsten's face, holding his chin gently. His thumb traced over Awsten's bottom lip, still wet, still sensitive.
"What is it?" Awsten asked, breathless.
"I want you inside me." Michael kept his eyes on Awsten's face, watching the exact moment the words landed. "Can you do that for me, pup?"
Awsten's eyes went wide. "I— what?"
"You heard me." The thumb pressed gently against his lip. "I want you to fuck me."
"But I—" Awsten swallowed. "I've never—"
Michael slid his hand to the side of Awsten's face, thumb rubbing slowly over the stubble on his cheek. He watched Awsten's eyes flutter closed, felt him lean into the touch before he'd made any decision to. "I know. That's why it'll be fun." A pause. "I'll talk you through it. You wanna make me feel good, don't you?"
There was only one possible answer to that question. There had only ever been one. "Yes."
"Such a good boy."
Michael kissed him, slow and deliberate, a hand cupping his jaw, nothing rushed about it, then lifted Awsten up and out of his lap. Awsten allowed himself to be moved but whined in protest, hands reaching back for Michael.
"Patience," Michael said.
He stood from the bed and began removing his own clothes, starting with his shirt. He kept his eyes on Awsten as he pulled it over his head. His pup was sitting exactly where Michael had left him, watching Michael's every movement with an intensity that was almost funny given the puppy ears still slightly askew on his head.
Michael's head dipped below the fabric for only a moment, but when he pulled free he could already see Awsten starting to crawl across the bed toward him. Low and slow, head ducked, tail swaying behind his hips like he thought he was being subtle.
"Stay."
Awsten froze. Slowly shifted back to sit, arranging himself neatly.
"Good boy."
Michael finished undressing at an unhurried pace. By the time he removed his boxers, Awsten's eyes had gone dark, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
His gaze traveled down Michael's body, the ink on pale skin, the line of his shoulders, the trail of hair leading downward, and lingered somewhere it probably shouldn't for a pup who was supposed to be sitting pretty.
Michael watched him look. Let him.
Then Michael laughed, low and quiet, more breath than sound, and Awsten's eyes snapped back up to his face. His cheeks went a shade darker.
"Patience, baby," Michael said, making his way around to the nightstand for the lube. Awsten's eyes followed him the entire way.
Michael climbed onto the bed, propping himself up against the pillows. He spread his legs in Awsten's direction and wrapped a hand around himself, working a few slow strokes. A relieved exhale escaped him. He could see Awsten squirming in place, fists clenched in his lap.
"Place." Michael pointed to a spot just below his feet.
Awsten moved, the whole bed shifting with his enthusiasm.
"Hands in your lap. Sit pretty."
Awsten settled back on his knees and obeyed, placing his hands on his thighs. The position forced his weight down onto the tail plug. Michael watched it hit him, the slight parting of his lips, the way his thighs tensed.
"Something wrong, pup?"
"N-no, sir." Awsten's hands clenched into fists on his thighs. He tried to shift slightly and it only made things worse. He gathered his tail to rest at his side, smoothed the fur down carefully. Getting himself together.
A familiar softness settled in his chest. His pup, trying so hard.
He reached for Awsten's leash. The satisfying click of it attaching rang through the quiet room. Michael laid back, took the leash in his hand, and gave it a firm tug.
Awsten gasped.
"Now watch."
Michael popped open the lube. Awsten's breath hitched at just the sound, before Michael had even touched himself.
He coated his fingers slowly. Awsten's eyes tracked every movement, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
Michael brought his slick fingers down between his legs and began to circle, slow and deliberate. His breath hitched slightly, not much, but enough. Across from him, Awsten's entire body tensed in response.
"Are you watching, pup?"
"Yes, sir." The words came out thin and unsteady.
Michael pushed one finger inside himself and exhaled slowly. He could see Awsten's hands shaking on his thighs, could see the effort it was taking to stay exactly where he'd been put. Precome was already beading at Awsten's tip. His hips shifted the smallest amount and the plug pressed deeper and he sank his teeth into his bottom lip to keep the sound in.
Michael noticed. Said nothing. Added a second finger.
A low groan left him as he scissored them open, his back lifting off the pillows. Across from him, Awsten made a strained, desperate sound like he'd felt it himself.
"You stay right there," Michael said, his voice unsteady at the edges. "You take it all in. See how I'm getting ready for you?"
Awsten nodded frantically. His whole body was trembling now with the effort of stillness, the plug shifting with every tiny movement, rubbing relentlessly. He looked like the effort of not reaching out was costing him something real.
Michael added a third finger, curled them just right, and felt the pleasure spark up his spine. His head fell back. His free hand fisted in the sheets.
"Shit," he breathed.
Awsten made a choked sound. His hips jerked once, unavoidable, and the plug pressed hard against his prostate and he gasped, nearly doubling forward.
"Stay still," Michael said, firm and even.
"I'm trying—" Awsten's voice was strained, higher than usual. "The plug, it's—"
"I know, baby." Michael kept moving his fingers, kept his eyes on Awsten. "You're being so good. Just a little longer."
He worked himself open, taking his time, watching his pup come apart from nothing but watching and waiting. When he finally pulled his fingers free, the wet sound made Awsten jerk like he'd been touched.
"All open and ready for you," Michael said.
Awsten's eyes were dark and desperate. He was shaking.
"Come here."
Awsten crawled between Michael's legs without hesitation, settling on his knees. Waiting.
"Up, baby." Michael tugged on the leash.
Awsten positioned himself over Michael, arms trembling where they held him up. Michael kept one hand on the leash and reached down with the other, wrapping around Awsten's cock. Awsten's hips jerked at the contact before he could stop them, a sharp whimper escaping him.
"Easy," Michael said.
He felt Awsten pulse in his hand. Lined him up carefully. Wrapped one leg around Awsten's hip and pushed him forward.
"Slow. I want to feel all of you."
Awsten began to push in. The second the head of his cock breached Michael, he made a sound like all the air had left his body at once. A broken, punched-out exhale that gave way to a quiet, overwhelmed whine.
"Keep going, pup." Michael's voice was strained too, feeling himself stretch around Awsten. "You can do it."
Awsten kept pushing, slow and careful, and Michael could see what it was costing him. The shaking of his arms, the furrow between his brows, the way he seemed to be holding himself together through sheer concentration. When he finally bottomed out, a breathless moan left him.
"Fuck," he panted. "So tight. You're so—"
"Good boy." Michael exhaled. The fullness was perfect. "Just like that. Move for me. Start slow."
Awsten pulled back and thrust forward, finding a rhythm. His hips rocked into it, gradually steadying, and Michael's grip on the leash tightened as his breath came faster.
"You feel so warm," Awsten whined, lifting his head to find Michael's eyes. His movements never stopped. "Does it feel good? Am I doing it right?"
The look on his face, wide, pleading, desperate for reassurance, pulled at Michael. Low and specific and impossible to ignore. "You're making me feel so good, pup," Michael said, reaching up to pet his head.
"Tell me I'm good." Awsten's voice cracked on the last word. His hips kept moving, kept that steady rhythm even as the rest of him came apart a little. "Please, tell me I'm being good—"
"You're being such a good boy." Michael scratched gently behind his ear and felt Awsten's whole body shudder in response. "You're doing so well, pup. Go faster now."
He tugged on the leash. Awsten picked up the pace.
The loud slap of skin filled the room and Awsten moaned, high and open, while Michael groaned beneath him, the sound pulled from somewhere deep. He could see Awsten's tail swinging wildly behind him with each movement.
"Such a pretty tail," Michael managed, "wagging for me."
Awsten's hands were fisted in the sheets on either side of Michael, his lip caught between his teeth, muffling himself.
Michael reached up and hooked a finger inside his mouth, holding it open. "Uh-uh. Let me hear you." He rubbed his thumb over the spot where Awsten had been biting, then pressed it gently against his tongue. "You sound so pretty."
Awsten's contained pants turned into open, unguarded moans. Drool gathered at the corner of his mouth, ran over Michael's thumb.
When Michael withdrew his hand, Awsten dropped his head to Michael's neck. His lips found the skin there first, small, reverent presses, checking. Then his tongue, lapping in slow stripes up Michael's throat before trailing sloppy open-mouthed kisses toward his collarbone.
"You taste so good," Awsten whimpered against his skin.
He licked along Michael's collarbone, kissed back up to the soft spot behind his ear. Michael's breath left him in a rush, his hips rocking upward to meet Awsten's without deciding to. His free hand gripped the sheets and his back arched off the pillows.
"Fuck, Awsten—"
Awsten's rhythm faltered at that. Just a hitch, a single missed beat, like the sound of his name in Michael's voice had moved through him physically. He recovered quickly, but Michael had felt it.
Awsten pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot behind Michael's ear and Michael shuddered, heat pooling sharp and insistent. His grip on the leash had gone white-knuckled. He wrapped his free hand around himself and began stroking in time with Awsten's thrusts.
"Mikey—" Awsten's voice dropped low, urgent, his rhythm starting to fray at the edges. "Mikey, I'm gonna—"
"Not yet." Michael's own voice was rough, unsteady at the seams. "Not until I say. Slow down if you need to."
But Awsten shook his head against Michael's neck, hips snapping forward, the careful control he'd been holding unraveling fast. "Please, please, I've been good, right? I've been so good, please—"
Michael could feel it in the erratic snap of Awsten's hips, the way his breathing had gone sharp and stuttering. He pulled his knees up and used them to push firmly against Awsten's chest.
Awsten slipped free with a choked sound. The plug shifted with the sudden stillness, pressing without the rhythm he'd built around it, and Awsten made a second sound, smaller, more confused, like his body didn't know what to do with itself anymore.
For a moment he just stayed there, suspended, breathing hard. Then his face crumpled. His breath hitched once, twice, and tears finally spilled over, tracking down his flushed cheeks. Frustrated and overwhelmed and so close and now so suddenly without.
"No," he managed, the word coming out wrecked. "No, please—"
"Color, baby," Michael said. Quiet. Steady.
"Green—" Awsten's voice broke on the word, dissolving into desperate little whimpers. "Green, greengreengreen—" The words ran together, slurred and urgent. He was already pressing his lips to Michael's knees, his legs, kissing whatever skin he could reach from where he'd been pushed back.
Michael let his legs fall open.
Awsten came back to him without being asked, lips finding Michael's throat immediately. "M'sorry, I'm sorry, you feel so good, I just, please let me, I wanna make you feel good—"
"Shh." Michael's hand found his back, rubbing slow circles. "I know. I know it's a lot. You're not in trouble, pup. But you have to wait."
He reached for the pillow beside them. "I need you to lift up a little."
Awsten pushed up onto his arms and Michael tucked the pillow beneath his own hips, angling himself. The difference would let Awsten reach deeper, hit that spot with every thrust.
"There," Michael said. "Come on. Show me how good you can be."
Awsten repositioned himself with shaking hands. When he pushed back inside, they both exhaled. Michael at the new angle, Awsten at the overwhelming sensation of being back where he wanted to be.
"Slow," Michael reminded him, tugging the leash. "Just like I showed you."
Awsten started to move. Controlled and deliberate despite the tears still wet on his face, despite how badly Michael could see he wanted to let go. The concentration on his face. Trying so hard.
"That's it," Michael breathed. The new angle was doing exactly what he'd intended, pleasure building sharper and more insistent with every thrust, Awsten hitting that spot inside him with devastating consistency. "Perfect. So perfect for me."
Awsten whimpered and dropped to kiss Michael's jaw. Then his throat. His tongue traced the line of Michael's pulse, slow and devoted, like he was learning the shape of him. Reverent little touches worked across his collarbone, his shoulder, back up to his neck.
"Still good?" Awsten's voice was barely a breath. "Am I still being good?"
"So good." Michael's own voice was going rough. He kept stroking himself in time with Awsten's movements,pleasure building hot and certain at the base of his spine. "Don't stop. Just like that."
The leash went taut and he could feel the tremor building in Awsten's hips, the slight irregularity creeping back in, his control fraying at the edges.
"Faster," Michael said. His thighs were shaking. "Harder. I'm close."
Awsten obeyed. His hips snapped forward with more force and Michael's head dropped back against the pillows.
And then the world narrowed.
Michael didn't know when everything else had gone quiet. At some point it had just happened. Awsten's breathing above him, ragged and broken, and the jingle of the tag swinging from his collar with every thrust. Sharp and metallic and impossibly clear against everything else going soft at the edges. The sheets under his hands. The heat of Awsten's skin. All of it blurring slightly.
Just those two things cutting through.
He didn't know how long it had been like that.
"Yes." Michael's hand moved faster. "Right there, don't stop—"
The orgasm rolled through him in a wave. His whole body tensed, his hand working through it, and he came with a low broken sound.
Awsten's movements slowed. Then stopped entirely.
Michael lay in the aftershocks, breathing hard, and became gradually aware that Awsten had gone absolutely still above him. Trembling from head to foot, clearly desperate, but still. He'd stopped on his own. Without being told.
He looked at Awsten and thought, not for the first time, that he was the most patient and devastating thing Michael had ever been trusted with. The pride of it sat deep and warm in his chest with nowhere left to go.
He reached up with a hand that wasn't quite steady and unclipped the leash from Awsten's collar. He let it drop to the mattress.
Awsten looked at him. Confused. Desperate.
"Take what you need, pup," Michael said softly. His hand came up to cup Awsten's face. "Whatever pace you want. It's yours."
Relief moved across Awsten's face first. Then want. Then something that sat between the two and belonged to neither.
"I can—?"
"You've been so good," Michael said. "Go on."
Awsten made a sound low in his throat and started moving again. No more careful rhythm, no more controlled pace. Just Awsten chasing it, his hips urgent and unrestrained. Michael wrapped his legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.
"That's it," Michael said, oversensitive and not caring. "Take it."
Awsten's movements grew more frantic, his breathing ragged, small desperate sounds spilling out of him with every thrust. The plug pressed into him with every snap of his hips, relentless, unavoidable, building alongside everything else until Michael doubted Awsten could separate one sensation from another anymore. Just overwhelmed from every direction at once and chasing it anyway.
His face was buried in Michael's neck, lips moving against his skin, words half-formed and breathless. "Mikey. Mikey. You feel, please, please."
"You wanna breed me, pup?" The words came out rough and low. "Come on. Fill me up. Be a good boy and breed me."
Whatever control Awsten had been holding onto came apart at the seam. A sound came out of him that Michael had never heard before, desperate and overwhelmed, like the words had reached somewhere deep and animal.
"Yes," Awsten gasped, his voice wrecked. "Yes, please, please—"
He buried his face in Michael's neck as his movements became erratic, desperate, chasing it with everything he had. Michael could feel the tears now, hot, landing on his skin where Awsten's face was pressed close, and then he felt it. Teeth sinking into his shoulder. Not enough to break skin but sharp and sudden and real.
The sound Michael made was not a gasp. It was a moan. Low and genuine, pleasure-pain jolting through him completely unexpected. His softening cock twitched against Awsten's stomach. Oversensitive and already spent and it didn't seem to matter. His hand went to the back of Awsten's head automatically, petting him, holding him there.
"Good boy," Michael groaned. "That's it."
Awsten's teeth stayed pressed to Michael's shoulder as his hips snapped forward, once, twice, three more times, and then he was coming with a muffled sob against Michael's skin, tears tracking hot down his face and onto Michael's throat, his body going rigid before shuddering through it in waves. Michael could feel him shaking everywhere, could hear him murmuring against his shoulder. Mikey. Mikey. M'sorry. So good. Mikey. Words dissolving into sounds that weren't words anymore.
Michael held him through all of it. Hand on the back of his head. Murmuring praise into his hair. Present for every shudder that moved through Awsten's body where they were pressed together.
When Awsten finally came down his tongue found the mark immediately. Soft, slow passes over the indented skin. Tender and apologetic.
"Sorry," Awsten murmured between passes. His voice was wrecked, barely there. "M'sorry, I didn't, I couldn't help it, I—"
"Hey." Michael's hand stroked through his hair. "Look at me."
Awsten lifted his head.
His face was a complete wreck. Flushed deep pink, tear-streaked, eyes glassy and soft, a small smear of drool at the corner of his mouth. He looked thoroughly taken apart.
Michael thought he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"You were perfect," Michael said. "That was perfect."
Awsten's chin wobbled slightly. He pressed his lips together, holding something in.
"Come here," Michael said, and pulled him down.
𐂯
Awsten collapsed against his chest. His lips found the bite mark again, not licking this time, just resting there. Warm and still.
Outside, a car passed. Down the hall, something settled in the walls the way old buildings do at night.
Michael started to hum.
Low and absent-minded, barely sound at all. Just vibration in his chest, formless at first, the way humming starts before it knows what it wants to be.
Then it became something.
Awsten's hand moved. Slow and deliberate, still half-limp with exhaustion, he lifted it and pressed his palm flat against the side of Michael's throat. Not gripping. Just resting there. Feeling the vibration beneath the skin.
Michael kept humming. Let him feel it.
He could sense Awsten's breathing change, the slight hitch, the way he went even more still, like he was listening with his whole hand.
Then Awsten made a small sound against his shoulder. Not a whimper. Something different entirely.
"Are you humming Mr. Brightside right now?"
Michael's humming stopped.
He had been. He genuinely hadn't noticed.
"No," Michael said.
"Michael." Awsten lifted his head, chin coming to rest on Michael's chest. His face was still flushed, eyes soft at the edges, tear tracks dried on his cheeks. He was looking at Michael with that expression, fond and incredulous in equal measure. "You're humming Mr. Brightside. After all of that."
"It was unconscious."
"It's so you," Awsten said, and laughed. Quiet and warm. He dropped his face back to Michael's chest, shoulders shaking with it.
Michael was smiling before he'd decided to be. He didn't try to stop it. There wasn't much point with Awsten. He'd learned that a long time ago.
When Awsten settled again, he pressed his lips back to the bite mark. Lighter this time. The laughter still in his breath.
Michael pressed his lips to the top of Awsten's head.
Then, practically.
"We need to move."
Awsten made a sound of profound protest.
"I know." Michael rubbed his back once, firm and fond. "But I need to clean up."
This was simply true. Michael was the one who needed attending to most urgently. Awsten had mostly just ended up with what had transferred when he'd collapsed forward, which was significantly less of a situation. A fact Michael pointed out plainly, which earned him a shove.
They made it to the bathroom slowly. Michael kept a hand on Awsten the whole way, not steadying him, not guiding, just in contact.
The bathroom tiles were cold under Michael's feet. The shower took a moment to warm up the way it always did, and they stood outside it waiting without discussing it.
The water ran warm. Michael took care of himself first, practical and efficient, while Awsten stood under the spray with his eyes half-closed. Then Michael washed Awsten's hair, those specific slow movements over his scalp that he'd learned made Awsten go heavy-eyed and loose-shouldered. Awsten turned his face up into Michael's hands when Michael rinsed the suds out, eyes closed, expression open in a way it almost never was anywhere else.
They took care of each other in the quiet way that didn't need direction anymore. By now they knew the shape of it.
Back in the bedroom, Michael picked up the collar from the nightstand. The tag caught the light as he turned it over in his palm.
Mikey's pup.
He set it down carefully. The ears beside it. He didn't know exactly when placing them there had become a ritual, the deliberate order, the particular care. Probably around the same time a lot of things had become rituals with Awsten.
Awsten dropped back into bed with approximately zero grace, sprawling across Michael's side before Michael had fully gotten in, one leg thrown over both of Michael's, his arms wrapping around Michael's middle like he was trying to take up as much shared space as possible. His full weight pressed warm and heavy into Michael's side. Michael didn't move him. Didn't particularly want to.
Michael's fingers found the skin of Awsten's back and traced there. Just the faintest drag of his nails across warm skin.
Awsten went very still. Then, after a moment, he shivered. Just once. Settled deeper into Michael's side.
Michael kept going. Slow, unhurried, no destination. Awsten's breathing evened out under it.
The room stayed quiet.
After a while, long enough that Michael's own eyes had started to feel heavy, Awsten shifted. Tilted his face up without fully lifting it from Michael's chest.
"I want a burger," he said. Simple and certain. Like this was a perfectly reasonable thing to announce. "Like. Genuinely. I really want a burger right now."
Michael's chest shook.
"I'm serious," Awsten said. "That's literally all I can think about."
"But it's one in the morning," Michael said. "Nothing's open."
Awsten lifted his head from Michael's chest. He had the look of someone who had been waiting for this exact moment.
"The one by the movie theater stays open until two."
Michael picked up his phone from the nightstand. 1:34 am. He looked back at Awsten.
Awsten was smiling. Big and bright and completely shameless, his chin still resting on Michael's chest, eyes doing exactly what he knew they did to Michael.
Michael looked at him for a long moment.
He'd known before Awsten even finished the sentence. That was the embarrassing part.
Michael laughed quietly, more at himself than anything else. "Get your shoes," he said.
Awsten was already moving.
♡𐂯♡