Son of a Witch

"So close... please..." His hand fell away, letting Billy take over, placing his pleasure literally in his partner's hands — smaller than his, more delicately shaped, and warmer than the metal. It felt like heaven, especially with Billy pressed so close.

Eyes half closed, breathing heavy he turned all his focus onto the sensations of Billy's hand working him over, Billy's lips brushing his skin. Barely undressed yet every inch of his skin felt on fire from just that little bit of contact and he rolled his hips eagerly against each stroke. "P-please—"

When it hit him it felt like a storm breaking free, sudden and wild. He cried out loudly, voice wrapped around Billy's name without restraint.