NOTHING COMPARES TO YOU
Qiang’s POV
“You teased me all fucking day,” Marcus growls against my skin while having no idea how badly I teased both of us today.
I’d woken up this morning hoping to go out for a quick breakfast or something, then just come back here and crawl into bed with Marcus all day.
I’d fully prepared for that eventuality, right down to popping in a butt plug after my ‘hoping to get railed’ routine.
Thing is, it’s been a while, and Marcus isn’t exactly small or even average for that matter, so the plug was really my way of spending a little less time on stretching when the time came.
What I didn’t expect was for my brother to derail my plans with his puppy-dog eyes and pouty lip that I don’t think any human with actual feelings could resist. What made it even worse was that he derailed our plans by reminding us that we had already made plans with him.
But these are the parts of me that get divided. I didn’t treat just Marcus like shit, or just Qi like shit, or just Tristan in a collateral-damagy kind of way. I systemically hurt them all, in different ways, and for different reasons.
While I’m learning to understand I’m not a terrible, awful person, it doesn’t change that I’ve done and said terrible, awful things.
So I’m not at a point where I want to just blow my brother off so I can go get laid, nor am I at a point where I want to just blow Marcus off right after we finally took a step forward.
And there’s also the knowledge that while Marcus and Tristan are doing much better now, there was a good chunk of time when we all first moved in, when they’d gotten distant for a while.
I know both Qi and I played a part in that, and Qi has been actively finding time to ensure Tristan and Marcus have family time together too.
So, a family day really felt like a happy medium where I got to spend time with Marcus, albeit in a not-so-naked kind of way, and with Qi and Tristan watching nostalgic movies, and letting Marcus and Tristan have some of that bonding time they need, too.
Thing is, popping a plug in for the day when I know I'm gonna get laid later isn’t uncommon for me. However, sex is perfunctory to me, at least it was until Marcus.
In the past, when I knew I had sexy plans, it still only went as far as business as usual all day until I met up with the hook-up and got laid. The plug teasing me all day was the buildup to that, not the person, and there sure as fuck was never a full day of cuddling with that warm body beside me.
Not to mention the way today’s specific body has been able to turn me sideways just by looking at it, let alone touching it, and then throwing a plug in there to add to that mix.
Yeah, today has been hell. I mean, definitely the level of hell dedicated to all things sexy, but hell nonetheless.
Marcus’s arm around me, pulling me in close.
The deep rumbly tenor of his voice every time he spoke.
The way his fingers traced lazy patterns into my skin.
All the while, just a twist in a certain way, and that plug would press against a sensitive spot, and it took everything in me not to give myself away.
So I really can’t be blamed for teasing Marcus, too.
I mean, I needed to let out at least some of the pent-up energy, and I can’t pretend that Marcus’s heavy breathing or the way he groaned under the teasing didn’t just add fuel to the fire.
Really, if he weren’t so adamantly hot and responsive to my touch, and so eager to sign up for this life with me, then maybe I’d have behaved better.
Suffice it to say, by the time Qi and Tristan went back downstairs, I was ready to go, and when Marcus’s intense eyes shifted to me, it took everything in me not to jump him on the spot.
The gravelly countdown and subsequent chase only added to the need that had been building in me for longer than I care to admit.
And now we're tangled in the satin sheets of his bed, with him hovering over me, his kisses expressing just how pent up I’ve made him throughout the day, and if that isn’t the most aphrodisiac thought ever, then I don’t know what is.
But all that gets chased away when his hand works its way down my body and curls around my painfully ‘hard all day’ dick.
My head falls back at the heady sensation, disconnecting from his kiss with a whine of “Please, Marcus,” punching out of me because I need his touch more than I need air.
“Please, what? What do you want me to do to you, Qiang?” Marcus drawls in my ear while his fingers curl in enough to add the perfect amount of pressure around my needy dick.
“I want you to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to sit down for a week without feeling you. I’ve wanted it all day, prepped for it this morning, hoping that we’d get here, and now I need it,” I rush out.
Marcus lifts his head to look at me, and I don’t know what he sees in mine, but I know the moment he processes how desperately I mean my words when his eyes dilate and the barest hint of a whine mixes in with the whoosh of air he exhales.
“Fuck, you say things like that, and it just scrambles my brain,” he says, and then, for whatever unfathomable reason he might have, he pulls away.
Not a lot, just I wanted more kisses and things to keep going, and he’s slightly sitting back on his haunches and creating distance.
I prop up on my elbows and try to meet his gaze while he’s having some sort of internal battle.
“You don’t really need your brain right now, do you?” I ask, hoping this isn’t me about to get rejected, because every moment leading up to this said we were on the same page, so I’m confused by the change.
Marcus’s eyes slam shut, and he takes a heavy breath before leaning a bit more into my space.
“Wait! Wait-wait-wait, I tested negative after my last hook-up back in August,” he says, and the pull back makes more sense now.
He’s not rejecting me; he’s setting up parameters for moving forward.
“I tested negative back in July during my yearly check-up. I haven’t been with anyone since then.”
Marcus curls his bottom lip back between his teeth before letting it go.
Every time he does this, it about drives me mad.
He has the most gorgeous set of lips I’ve ever seen, and watching him do this and the way the perfectly plush lip bounces delectably back into place is like some slow-motion porn fantasy on steroids.
“So condoms or no condoms?” he asks, pulling my attention from his lips to his eyes. “I’ve never gone bare with anyone before, but I’d really love to make a fucking mess out of you.”
And oh my god, if I thought the ridiculous lip fantasies weren’t enough, the concept of his cum dripping down the back of my legs assaults my poor sex-deprived brain. Couple that with the way he made that statement so personal.
He doesn’t just want to make a mess; he specifically wants to make a mess out of me, and holy fuck, if that isn’t the hottest sentiment ever, then I don’t know what is.
And I know it means even more than that, because protection is one of his hard rules, and yet he wants to break it for me.
Not gonna lie, it's one of my biggest rules as well, and I’m just as into the idea of breaking it for him too.
Which is just another first, one that’s centered on how seriously this is for me.
“Jesus, you just came right out and put that out there. I’ve never done that either, um–fuck.”
“It’s okay, we don’t have to,” he rushes out, taking my surprise as a ‘no’ instead of as me being completely waylaid by the assault of visions he just poured in my head.
“No, I want to.”
Marcus watches my face for a second. “You sure, you aren’t just–”
“Yes, Marcus, trust me, I’m completely sure that the only thing I want more than feeling your cum oozing out of me and dripping down the back of my legs, is to feel your cock lodged firmly in my ass! So where's the lube already?” I hiss out, my dick throbbing with impatience at the conversation.
Marcus’s eyes are popped open wide, his breathing heavy when the question finally hits him, and he shakingly nods his head.
“Right here,” he says, reaching up over me to pull it out of his nightstand.
There’s a bit of fumbling above my head, and I try to arch up to look behind me, but the gravity of the situation becomes apparent when Marcus starts muttering to himself.
“Shit, it’s empty,” he curses. “Why is it empty?” he asks himself, as though the concept of unreplenishable sources eventually running out is out of his grasp at the moment.
Can’t really blame him. I’m at the end of my tether too; my dick is getting quite pissed actually at yet another interruption.
I let out an aggravated sigh because no, this isn’t a moment when I can rein in my emotions and act like a normal human with feelings who is aware that other humans have feelings, too. I scramble to get out of bed, and Marcus wraps his hand around my wrist to keep me from getting too far away.
“No, wait. I can–” he says, thinking I’m throwing in the towel.
“I’m just running to grab mine; I’ll be like two minutes,” I explain, trying to dislodge my wrist from his grasp.
The worry in his eyes is instantly replaced with a huge smile. “I’ll give you thirty seconds,” he teases, and his ability to bounce back from feeling rejected to being cocky is an unnatural feat that should definitely be studied.
Just not right now. Right now, the only thing that matters is getting the fucking lube.
Luckily, the delay is minimal, since putting the plug in this morning and popping up to my room throughout the day to reapply, I know exactly where it’s at and how much of it I have, which is more than enough for tonight.
I’ll worry about more tomorrow; hell, I’ll order enough to challenge the country’s stock of the stuff if I have to, to make damn sure we never run out again.
When I rush back, I find a very naked Marcus, laying a towel down on the bed. He looks up at me, and I let my eyes drop down and take a very slow, very pointedly appreciative perusal of his gorgeous as fuck body.