Archive of Our Own ^beta

“What in the hell was that?” Mac’s breath was hot on his ear, fingers digging into the flesh of his forearm, knuckles connecting with bone and causing tiny, pinpricks of pain to dance underneath his skin. Dennis delighted in the anger Mac’s tone was bathed in, let it wash over him before he spoke. It was glorious, the heat the other man was emitting.

“What was what?” Dennis enunciated each word, staring Mac directly in the eye, challenging him to take it further, for it to become even more physical.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Mac shook him when he spoke that time, and Dennis wondered if the other man was strong enough to break his arm in two, just crack it right in half like a baby bird’s wing.

Dennis inhaled a purposeful breath, then tilted his head as he pretended to study Mac’s infuriated visage. “Oh, that?” He paused to smile, not showing too much of his teeth, just a sliver was enough to enrage the other man.

He slammed Dennis against the wall, not hard but strong enough to show that he was the one in control right now. Physically, anyway. “You do not get to bring up my dad like that, and you know it.”

A carefully placed smirk caused one side of his mouth to shift higher than the other, and he watched Mac’s nostrils flare the second it graced his face. “I thought you wanted to play a character. I was only explaining to the audience your backstory. Is that so wrong?” His breath caught in his throat as one of Mac’s hands traveled to the pale skin just above his collarbone, and oh God, did Mac look so hot right now as he started to squeeze. The touch was experimental at first, but the longer they stared into each other’s eyes, the harsher it became. “What’s the matter? Did I – hit a vein?”

The growl that erupted from Mac’s chest caught him off guard in the most delicious way, sending a course of fear rippling underneath his skin. Mac’s eyes narrowed, the dark pools that reflected Dennis’ image back to him only becoming more wrought with wrath, and the more unforgiving his hold became. “This is fun for you, isn’t it? Getting a – a rise out of me.” It wasn’t a question anymore, but a statement of fact, one both men knew to be true.

With a finger that had a minute hint of a tremble to it, Dennis raised his hand and rested it on Mac’s cheek. “I think you like it too,” he dared to say, and watched as shock mixed with arousal flared in Mac’s eyes.

“Oh, do you now?” One eyebrow arched, and though his grasp had lessened, Dennis was sure (hopeful, rather) that there would be purple prints in the shape of Mac's fingertips on his neck in the morning, signifying that all this wasn’t just some fever dream, but real, and he’d have something to show for it.

Dennis dipped his chin a hair, knowing how Mac loved it when he peered up at him, giving him the illusion that Mac was the taller of the two (even though the lifts that he put in his shoes would do nothing for him when he was barefoot), and thus, the more dominant one. “What are you – What are you planning on doing about it?”

That inquiry got Mac’s mouth to shift into a sneer, and Dennis had to fight to hide the wide grin that was threatening to encompass his features. “Well, if I didn’t know any better, Dennis,” and he hissed the second syllable out, as though his tongue were forked. “I’d say you did it on purpose.” He paused, nails dragging along his throat as Mac finally released it then clutched his chin, fingers now encasing his jaw. “Did you?”

“That hurts.” he stated, narrowing his brow as he edged his bottom lip out farther than his top.

“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Mac asked, dialing back the anger and replacing it with curiosity that neither man knew he needed to fake. The answer to that question had already been answered time and time again before, but Dennis knew Mac needed to hear it before he proceeded. “To hurt?”

“What do you take me for, Mac? A masochist? We both know that’s the role you like to –” Mac clutched his jaw tighter, effectively pulling him back from the cliff he was about to dive off of.

“When it comes down to it,” and Mac closed the gap between their faces, so close Dennis could smell the whiskey he’d sampled earlier on his breath. “You like pain just as much as I do.” To emphasize his point, he forced Dennis’ head to hit the solid surface behind him again.

God, Mac knew just what to do. He held the goddamned world at his fingertips. Dennis eased his eyes back open, allowed himself to thrive off the way his skull was ringing with the ache Mac had perpetrated. “You’re an idiot,” he berated him with a tone that one would hold in the same regard as an angry cat that was just unexpectedly woken up from a nap.

It was Mac’s turn to smile at the shift that had just taken place between them. Power was oddly alluring yet had it’s fallbacks. Some people just didn’t know what to do with what they were given. “Only when I’m around you.”

Dennis scoffed, specks of spittle flying from his lips that only made Mac’s grip tighten. “You’re an idiot around everyone. Your stupidity knows no bounds.”

That made the smile fall from Mac’s face, one eye narrowing while the pads of his fingers began to grind into Dennis’ jaw, an immediate flare of pain washing over him as Mac pulled him forward and slammed his mouth into his.

It was messy and uncoordinated, but it was also hot and passionate, a no holds barred event that both men were more than willing to participate in. Blood would be drawn in one way or another, and Dennis couldn’t wait to find out whose it would be. (He hoped for both.)

He framed Mac’ face with fingers that held the frigid shock that one carried when they were bathed in bone-chilling water, but it didn’t faze the other man one bit.

Mac was used to Dennis’ iciness, seeing as they’d been sharing a bed for the last eleven months.

Two eternal opposites – fire and ice – and yet drawn together in an inescapable fate. Where one went, the other was sure to follow, and Dennis knew that ultimately, they couldn’t survive without the other. Such was the way of the world, he supposed.

(He knew they deserved each other; there was no doubt about that fact - hurt begat pain and so forth.)

With a single breath, Mac stole his soul, consuming it in the span of a fervent kiss, and Dennis didn’t try to stop him because the end result was inevitable – they would be entwined for eternity, no passage of time, no matter how long, could ever truly keep them apart.

Dennis wondered: If other universes did exist, where they also together in those?

Unable to be freed from one another’s gravitational pull no matter the circumstance, he mused as Mac gripped the collar of the sweater he was wearing and shoved him onto the perfectly made bed.

He stood there, looming above him, trying to appear as imposing as possible, and Dennis had to hand it to him, when Mac’s expression went dark, flames of want and the hunger of control burning in his eyes, it was quite the turn on. His hands balled into fists, knuckles becoming more pronounced as he clenched them, and Dennis decided that he wasn’t completely done with teasing the other man.

With his bottom lip sandwiched between his teeth, he started to back away, and the second he moved, so did Mac.

Cat and mouse.

Before he could excuse himself from the mattress, Mac grabbed his ankles, halting any thought of escape as he climbed on top of him, the bed dipping underneath his weight as he wrapped one solid palm around Dennis’ throat and tugged him upwards so their lips would meet again.

Dennis’ hands flailed momentarily before they found Mac’s waist and held on for dear life.

Mac straddled his thighs before laying him back, fingers gliding against his skin before he broke away from him, halos of honey adorning his pupils as he reached down and forced both of the shirts Dennis was wearing upwards until his top half was bare, pale skin for Mac’s taking. “You need to learn your lesson, Dennis.”

Playing innocent, Dennis peered up at him, one fingertip casually planted on his bottom lip as he batted his eyelashes. “And what lesson might that be?”

The other man’s lips pulled thin as his face grew nearer to Dennis’ once more, breath coming slow and calculated (which was quite the feat for a man who could hardly stand still, let alone focus on a single subject at a time). “Don’t piss me off,” he murmured in his ear, and Dennis gaped as Mac somehow managed to pull him upwards and bend him over the bed.

A wicked grin split Dennis’ face in two as Mac practically ripped off his pants, the denim falling to his ankles and wrinkling above his shoes. “My goodness,” he kept up the act as he turned to look over his shoulder at the other man. “So rough.” He squeezed his eyes tight when Mac’s mouth found it’s way to his ear again, lips brushing against it as he spoke.

“We both know how rough you like it, Den.”

His words were like a glass shattering in Dennis’ ears, breaking whatever preconceived notion he had and obliterating the ability to uphold any other conscious thought.

His right ass cheek vibrated as Mac’s palm came down against it, lighting fast and causing Dennis to lurch forward though Mac’s other arm swiftly held him in place. He glanced down at the veins that were bulging underneath his skin, and the tendons being pulled tight as he refused to give Dennis any more room than was necessary.

And the part that made Dennis’ cock throb the hardest – Mac was still fully clothed.

Jesus.

“How bad do you want this to be? Huh?” He could tell Mac’s teeth were grit by his speech pattern which only made him want it all the more.

“Suck. My. Dick.” Dennis didn’t have to wait long for the next clap of Mac’s hand against his cheek to come, and it ricocheted off the walls, the sting pleasantly painful. He jerked forward again, a shocked gasp enveloping the air in front of his lips.

“Keep pushing it, and see how far I’ll go,” Mac threatened.

Dennis’ eyebrows knitted together in anticipation. He could push; that was what he’d been doing all night. “Go fuck yourself with a –” He didn’t get to finish executing that thought as Mac’s already heated palm connected with his skin once more, lighting the area on fire. He bet the shape of Mac’s hand was bright and red and oh, so perfect.

“With a what?” When Dennis didn’t answer, lungs trying desperately to refill with the oxygen he had just lost, the arm that was holding his waist fell away and suddenly, Dennis’ head was yanked back, forcing his neck to arch. “With a what?” Mac repeated, louder and sharper. He pressed his nose against Dennis’ cheek then mumbled, “What should I fuck myself with Dennis?”

He tried to keep the whine in, tried to shove it down, but it scrambled out between his lips anyway, only making the clothed erection that Mac was now pressing in between his cheeks even more apparent. “Jesus,” he muttered, the muscles above his shoulder blades straining as Mac kept him firmly in place.

“That’s what I thought,” Mac bit out, fingers nestled securely in Dennis’ locks. “I think you need to be put in your place. Need to learn who’s really in charge.”

Dennis wanted to nod, nod so badly, but instead he attempted to struggle because it was all about the fight, about the need for Mac to dominate him, to be dominated. “And you think you’re capable of that?” he contested, then pitched forward when the outline of Mac’s hand painted itself over his pale flesh again.

“Oh, I’m more than capable of that,” he paused, seizing the roots that had recently been freshly dyed with his fingertips, then added, “Princess.”

That pet name made Dennis’ eyes roll back in his skull, knees going weak and cock growing painfully hard. “Maybe you should prove it then, bitch.” He knew he was walking a fine line, one so thin that the wrong move could cause him to tip on over the edge. Mac was strong, far stronger than he gave him credit for, but Dennis was up for whatever punishment Mac was willing to dish out.

It had been a while since he’d suffered.

“Oh, Princess,” and there was a condescending note that captured Mac’s tone, signaling that Dennis was about to get pummeled into oblivion. (He hoped so anyway.)

Before he had a chance to react, Mac shoved his face down directly into the mattress, sending the scent of drier sheets straight up into his nose, and for a split second, he lost the ability to breathe again, mouth completely concealed by the blue cotton. He started to struggle, at least wanting to put up somewhat of a fight, but Mac was fast, faster than him and pinned his wrists above his head.

“You think I’m a bitch, Princess?” A shroud of cockiness that Dennis hadn’t heard in fucking months conquered Mac’s voice, and the sound traveled from his eardrums down to the dick that was now sandwiched between Dennis’ belly and the mattress. “I’ll show you what kind of bitch I am.”

Oh shit.

The slides underneath the top drawer of his nightstand squeaked as Mac opened it, painstakingly slow so the noise would burrow down into Dennis’ brain, set him on edge. A cap popped, cheap and distinct, the sound quickly followed by the teeth of a zipper coming undone. The tip of what Dennis presumed to be his index finger was swiftly shoved into his hole, and he squirmed but Mac didn’t budge, not a single fraction of an inch. Instead, he hastily added a second digit and the burn nearly tore Dennis in two.

Precum leaked from his cock, dampening the fabric beneath him because pain and pleasure were currently one in the same, and Mac, oh, Mac was a fucking masterful asshole who knew exactly what the fuck he was doing.

Though he was nowhere near ready, he knew Mac was going to teach him a lesson, so he shoved his ring finger in relentlessly, sending Dennis careening even closer to the imaginary line that was about to be crossed with no hope of ever looking back in sight. “Oh, Princess, you fit like a motherfucking glove,” Mac informed him once he eased his dick into the place his fingers had just been.

Dennis grinded into the mattress, all the muscles in his body aching as Mac took up every single inch of available space possible.

“So tight,” he murmured, and splayed his right hand across the small of Dennis’ back.

Words were lost on Dennis at the moment. He knew they existed, that they were real things that people could make happen, including the man that had just sheathed his cock inside of him as though that was the singular place it belonged, but for the life of him, the only thing pouring out of his mouth were whimpers drenched in desperation and nonsense.

“My sweet little Princess likes this, doesn’t she?” Mac questioned, having yet to make a single thrust. He’d buried himself inside of Dennis, as far as he could go, ensuring that Dennis understood that he was the sole keeper of Mac’s cock.

Like a poisoned blade that had yet to deliver the fatal blow, Mac eased out, making every single millimeter count before the only thing taking up residence in Dennis’ hole was the tip, and he stayed like that for all of twenty seconds, then became engulfed by the tight heat Dennis was currently providing over again.

The motion caused Dennis’ untouched cock to glide against the covers and along his skin, the need to touch himself making his fingers twitch in Mac’s grasp.

Mac moaned, slow and wanton, like a man who’d just awoken from a thousand years sleep. The pads of his fingers skimmed over the smooth surface of Dennis’ back and drew goosebumps in their wake. “Are you ready for your punishment, Princess?”

The question swam through his brain, but didn’t register because by the time it finally did process, Mac was railing into him, causing the springs in the old mattress to sing like a choir on Christmas day.

With the little prep he had received let alone the stimulation leading up to it, the burn that he should have experienced quickly faded, and the only thing he could focus on was the fact that he was already so close to coming.

Mac had managed to surpass all rational thought, unraveling each strand of Dennis’ DNA with every thrust, reaching into the deepest depths Dennis could offer then putting him together in pieces that were different every time.

Dennis was no longer the man that had taunted Mac into this state – he was a mess of atoms and protons and all the other microscopic shit in between – floating in a state of ecstatic bliss that stretched on for all of eternity.

The orgasm hit him quick, sending stars shooting before his eyes as Mac gave a gold medal winning performance, continuing to pound into his sweet spot and opening up a brand new dimension before him, one that was somehow even greater than the current one he was in. Never in his life had Dennis cum in such quick succession; he didn’t even know it was possible.

By the time Mac was finished, grip finally easing on the wrists that had been encased for what Dennis was sure had been at least a year, maybe more, his entire body was slick with sweat, loose curls hanging in his face and scattered like a freshly spun spiderweb.

Muscles he didn’t even know existed ached as Mac hooked his arms underneath his and pulled him upwards. The second Mac turned him around, Dennis’ head found his chest, and Mac immediately cradled him in his arms. “You good?” he murmured in Dennis’ ear, gently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

The hum of affirmation came at some point, when, Dennis didn’t recall. Time moved on without him, and it wasn’t until they were nestled in bed together when he came back to himself.

His gaze was fixed on Mac's chest, watched it rise and fall and the other man’s fingers combed through his hair.

“There he is,” Mac murmured, and Dennis peered up at him from where his head was perched on Mac’s chest then nestled his cheek as deep as he could get it into his shirt.

There were times like that after when he needed quiet just so all of the parts of himself that had come undone had a chance to sew themselves back together again.

“Get some rest, Den.”

A noise of agreement left his throat, and he settled back in then closed his eyes.

They had another dinner the next night, and Dennis needed to conserve his energy if he was going to pull that shit again.

The thought made his lips curve upward as he fell into unconsciousness, Mac solid beneath his cheek.