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Mikey nearly squeaks. “Here?”

“No one can see,” Gabe says, already palming Mikey's cock through his jeans. “I'll make it good.”

Mikey moans and kisses Gabe again. “Okay.”

Gabe's already got his hand working Mikey's fly, easy and practiced, and then Mikey's cock is in his hand and Mikey nearly loses it right there.

“Gonna go fast,” Mikey gasps, pushing into Gabe's hand.

“Yeah, you're so eager,” Gabe says. He strokes Mikey hard and fast, just the way he likes it. “Easy. I like that.”

Mikey wants to protest, to glare, because he isn't really easy, but then Gabe adds a little twist to his hand and Mikey is moaning, wanton and needy and thrusting into Gabe's hand.

He looks down to where Gabe's hand meets his dick, and it's so fucking hot, hotter than anything Mikey's ever seen, even hotter than some of the best of Gerard's porn. He rests his forehead on Gabe's chest and keeps watching, his eyes pinned to the movement.

“C'mon,” Gabe whispers, and Mikey makes a loud noise, so loud Gabe says, “Cover your mouth, baby.”

Mikey doesn't just cover his mouth with his hand, he practically stuffs it in. He bites down on the fleshy part of his palm and whimpers, then thrusts again, his hips jerking erratically. He's tense all over now, ready to come, but something holds him back and he can't quite get there.

“Do it, Mikeyway. Do it in my hand,” Gabe says, his voice low and rumbling.

And that's what Mikey needed, that's just enough to send him over the edge. He thrusts once more and comes in thick spurts, biting his hand with a muffled cry.

He's panting when he comes down, and Gabe pulls Mikey's hand away from his mouth and kisses him, gentle and sweet. It's almost the opposite of what Mikey expects from him.

“What about you?” Mikey asks, feeling lazy and sated. There's an edge of embarrassment and nervousness, too, but he can ignore that for now.

“Don't worry about it,” Gabe says, surprising Mikey again. Mikey looks down and sees that Gabe is straining in his tight jeans, hard and eager. For him to ignore it seems wrong.

“I want you to get off, too,” Mikey says, a little shy. “I can give you my hand?”

Gabe moans and laughs, kissing Mikey again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“First time?” Gabe asks, and Mikey nods hesitantly, hands fumbling with Gabe's fly. Gabe has to help him, but then his cock slaps into Mikey's hand, full and shiny where the skin's pulled taut.

Mikey wraps his fingers around Gabe's cock, just getting a feel for the width and hardness of it. Then he moves his hand experimentally, the way he likes it himself, down and up again to twist over the head.

Gabe inhales sharply and captures Mikey's mouth again, kissing him deeply. The angle is awkward and Mikey has to adjust his arm, and then he's stroking easily, his hand sticky with sweat and precome.

“Yeah, just like that,” Gabe says, quiet and breathy. “Little harder.”

Mikey complies, tightening his fingers around Gabe's cock and giving him what he asks for. Gabe starts panting, moaning – soft, not so loud that other people will hear. He rolls his hips and moves into Mikey's hand, and his mouth is on Mikey's, not really kissing but more or less mouthing at Mikey's lips. It's hot, and Mikey flicks his tongue against Gabe's, teasing and light.

There's no warning before Gabe comes except his breath moves out faster, more excited, and then there's warm, sticky fluid on Mikey's fingers.

“Goddamn,” Gabe whispers, and kisses Mikey hard.

Mikey smirks, self-satisfied. Gabe gets a good look at his face and laughs, then kisses him again.

“I think I like you a lot, Mikeyway,” he says, and takes a handkerchief out of his back pocket – a fucking handkerchief – and wipes his hand, then offers it to Mikey.

Mikey cleans up, wiping his fingers, then does up his fly. He's lazy all over, ready to fall into his bed at home and sleep. Gabe's got a grin stuck on his face. He looks happy and relaxed, like nothing could bring him down.

“I've got a bus to catch,” Mikey says, picking up his bag and hefting it over his shoulder. He moves to leave, but Gabe catches his arm.

“I could give you a ride.”

Mikey weighs his options, and finally nods his head. “Sure.”

Gabe's car is small and old, something from the 70s. It's been repainted, though, and the shiny yellow glints in the afternoon light. When Mikey gets in the passenger side door, he sees the logo, Pinto.

Gabe drives like a bat out of hell. Worse than Gerard, who Mikey is used to by now, worse than his mom. But he gets where he's going in one piece, and when Gabe pulls up in front of Mikey's house after Mikey points it out, he's still alive, at least.

“So I'll see ya,” Mikey says, trying not to let the hope seep into his voice.

Gabe leans over and kisses his cheek. “You don't think I'm letting someone like you get away, do you?”

Mikey lets out a breath and smiles. “You'd be smart to keep me around.”

“I'm not just smart, I'm a fucking genius,” Gabe says, and kisses him again, this time full on the lips. The kiss is full of promise.


End


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