PROBABLY STILL ADORE YOU (WITH YOUR HANDS AROUND MY NECK)
Billy was a handful, to say the least. He was loud, never stopped talking, and took as much space as possible— constantly. On top of just constantly being too much, he could be extremely vulgar. Despite his clearly high intelligence, Billy’s leaning towards vulgarities deeply upset Brahms.
Brahms would sometimes swear that he hated Billy with every fibre of his being, which left the latter deeply upset. He liked Brahms an awful lot, he did everything that was on the list that he wanted him to do, he especially started to follow it more after Brahms revealed himself to him and Billy became enamoured with the large man. He was huge and imposing, but also had an oddly comforting and safe air to him. This sort of aura was something the smaller man craved desperately for a very long time. So now, Billy followed every one of Brahms's rules and requests and requirements to the best of his abilities, even when he wasn't having the best days and was close to having a breakdown.
So why wasn't Brahms reciprocating his positive feelings? That notion confused Billy to his core. it hurt his head every time he tried to think deeper on it. In a brief moment of clarity and brilliance, he decided that he was going to try and win Brahms's affections through the only way he could think of at this point: that was confronting him and being open with him. It was sure to work— he was positive.
Hours had passed and Billy still was having trouble finding an opportunity to open himself up to Brahms. Yet miraculously, the man was out of his safe haven within the walls and was actually moving about where Billy could watch him.
He aggressively grabbed at his long locks and grit his teeth in frustration, watching Brahms as he made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the two of them. He slowly loosened his grip as he inspected the larger man closer, particularly staring at whatever exposed flesh he could lay his eyes upon. He shuffled in his chair uncomfortably, grumbling to himself and beginning to feel his face flush at the sight.
He was frozen in place as he watched Brahms cease any and all movement. This was it, he was done for. He had decided in that moment that he was going to have a flirt with death, dying for his insatiable appetite, his more carnal desires, that is… He died trying to fuck, in his most base terms. Which Brahms would so fully despise.
Brahms slowly turned to him, expression hidden by the cracked porcelain mask that he always wore. "What?" Was all that he said— however, he said it in his real voice and not that goddamn child voice he tended to imitate. No, he said it in his natural voice which made the heat in Billy's face grow even more and even begin to flower in the pits of his belly. God, he knew he was probably wet by now but Brahms's voice really didn't help, at all!
"I-uh," he began to stammer and grinned almost smugly, "I was enjoying the view. Real fine piece of ass you have there, bet your cock would taste like smoked sausage."
Unbeknownst to Billy, Brahms frowned under his mask but still felt his trousers grow tighter at Billy's vulgar comments and assumptions. The conflict of interest was… surprising. His eyes bore into his smaller companion, his mind racing with the thoughts of Billy testing his little theory. Curse this little twink for his bluntness, his disgraceful vocabulary. He began to slowly move closer to him, not once taking his eyes off him. Billy began to stutter and stammer more, his face growing redder and redder as he started throwing more obscene comments at Brahms. Fueled by panic, he gripped tightly and anxiously onto the hem of his turtleneck, trying to prepare himself for anything the much taller man might do. Or maybe, in fact, not do.
That's when Brahms pulled his mask up ever so slightly and pushed Billy against the wall behind him, smashing their lips together. He gripped tightly onto the shorter man's hips, slinking his fingers under the sweater and digging his nails into the delicate flesh beneath. Billy gasped out of initial surprise into the other's mouth before quickly catching the hint, trying to kiss back with whatever fervour he had within himself. He bit aggressively at Brahms's lip, chuckling to himself when he felt blood bead up from the bite. He just kissed him harder, grabbing the bearded man's dirty shirt and pulling him closer with it.
"Take that fucking thing off," Billy almost growled, parting away just to grab at Brahms's mask. The other's hands quickly shot up to fix his own mask, shaking his head at Billy who groaned loudly in frustration. "I want to see your fucking face," he gritted his teeth, yanking Brahms closer and staring him in the eye, " Especially , when you finally fuck me." Brahms froze up and stared at him as he was forced to Billy's eyeline. He stayed silent and slowly took the mask off, setting it down carefully while staring at him.
"Better," Billy purred, kissing him hard and aggressively with a smirk. He snaked his fingers under Brahms's filthy shirt, starting to pull it up impatiently only to be stopped by Brahms grabbing his wrist.
“Wait,” he murmured as the shorter of the two just continued to stare, breath hitching sharply. He reached over and pulled Billy’s sweater over his head, leaving him in his binder and jeans. Brahms squinted his eyes slightly as he softly asked, “How long have you been wearing that today?”
Billy’s stomach sank at the question, “Th-that doesn’t matter! What matters is that you get a fucking move on already.”
He rolled his eyes at the response and muttered, “You’re going to kill your ribs.”
“Not before you kill them for me first,” Billy purred, struggling to pull his binder off.
“Let me,” Brahms commented quietly, quickly helping the other out of his binder.
As soon as it was off, he took a giant and deep breath before giving him a cocky grin, “Now that that shit’s out of the way, let’s get back to business.” Billy pounced at him, clawing at his clothes like he was trying to rip them right off of him.
Brahms shrugged off his cardigan with a slight smirk, gripping harshly onto Billy’s hip. At the sensation, he quickly scrambled to unbutton his jeans and kick them off his legs along with his boxers. He then yanked at Brahms’s own trousers and boxer briefs, who helped him guide them off carefully so he didn’t damage any of it in his fit of fiery impatience. Encouraged, Billy pulled the other’s filthy shirt off and licked at his lips as he took in the sight. He absent-mindedly ran a spindly finger along the burn scars that ran across his body, stopping just above his navel.
“ Definitely going to taste like a smoked sausage,” he commented, snickering to himself as he arched to take an experimental lick, “Eh, kinda does. Little salty.” Brahms rolled his eyes at the comment but froze up and gasped slightly as Billy ran his tongue along the length.
“Fuck,” he muttered breathily through clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You know,” Billy hummed as he grasped onto the other man’s length idly stoking it with his free hand. This prompted Brahms to open his eyes, “I kinda figured that you hated my guts, didn’t realise that you liked me enough— or were at least desperate enough— to even think about fucking me.”
“Is this really the fucking time to have this conversation?” Brahms hissed, glaring at the other as he wore an increasingly smug expression on his visage.
“Absolutely, anyway have you got any lube because even as wet as I am right now, it’d be helpful,” he hummed, feathering fluttery kisses along his quickly hardening dick, “And we both know I’m dying to get to the main event here, I’m a man on a mission here.”
Brahms stopped in place for a second as he pondered about the question, “I think so, gimme a second.” He pushed Billy away and slowly got up, quickly scrambling to go check. When he finally crawled back out from the walls nearby, he was gripping a small bottle in his hand with a confident smile, “Found it.” He tossed it at Billy who scrambled to catch it, grinning widely at him. He frantically opened the bottle and poured a generous amount of the substance into his hand. He hummed to himself as he ran his slippery hand along Brahms’s cock, coating it the best he could. He looked over it and nodded, “Looks good.”
Those words filled Brahms with a certain eagerness and determination as he pushed Billy roughly against the floor, littering his neck in rough kisses and small bites. He hummed against his neck as he grabbed his thigh, pulling his legs apart wider and idly ran a calloused thumb against his growth. The sudden friction made Billy freeze and groan quietly to himself, instinctively biting down harshly on his lower lip. “Jesus fuck,” he choked out and grunted as the small action was repeated. Brahms hummed in content as he bit down on his neck, aggressively rubbing at his growth in a circular motion.
Billy moaned shakily as he clung to Brahms, rolling his hips in an attempt to increase the friction. Brahms stopped himself and stared at him with a blank expression, digging his nails into the other's thigh. He breathed shakily as he bucked his hips up, desperate for more of Brahms's touch. "You’re just gonna leave me hanging and not let me get off, you fucking-" Billy quickly cut himself off and nearly choked on his own breath and spit as Brahms slowly pressed a finger in his hungry entrance while continuing to mercilessly toy with the man's clit. "Holy fuck," he murmured, breathing heavier as he grinned slightly at the sight, "Now we're really getting to the good shit." Brahms mumbled something to himself under his breath as he removed his hand in order to position himself, wrapping Billy's legs around his waist.
He slowly pushed himself inside his ravenous entrance, grunting and pulling Billy closer as he did. He instinctively bit the base of his neck harshly, digging his nails into his hips as well. Billy inhaled sharply and moaned shakily as Brahms’s teeth sunk into him, among other things. He clawed at his back as he mumbled for him to start moving, which he quickly obliged to and took his sweet time at first. "Jesus fuck, if you keep at this pace I'll fall asleep on your cock," Billy teased as Brahms kept maintaining that agonisingly slow and steady pace.
Interpreting this as a challenge of sorts, Brahms pulled back as far as he could while still leaving the very tip just inside. This brief moment left Billy feeling desperately empty and he tried to pull himself down back onto Brahms to achieve that blissful sense of fullness again, but he quickly slammed his hips back into place. Billy gasped loudly and dug his nails into the other's back, tightly gritting his teeth together. Brahms proceeded to repeat the action a few more times, picking up the pace significantly each instance until he found the perfect, erratic sense of rhythm. Billy quickly caught on to this and matched Brahms's movements, grinding his hips slightly against Brahms's each time they made contact just for that extra friction he craved.
Feeling just the tiniest bit merciful, Brahms pushed Billy's back against the floor and rubbed at his growth, matching the rhythm and pacing of his thrusts. He moaned shakily at the stimulation, wrapping his legs tightly around his waist and buried his face into his neck. Brahms hummed at the reaction, keeping up with the movement and his aggressive rubbing. Billy bit down on his neck in an attempt to muffle his moans, feeling a small spark of excitement when he felt the telltale sensation of blood rising about the surface of broken skin.
A jolt ran along his spine and he reflexively arched his back as Brahms simultaneously slammed against the perfect spot and ground his clit harshly. Billy moaned loudly, rambling Brahms's name repeatedly in the process. He quickly took this as doing something right so he angled himself again to hit that wonderful spot again and kept at his rhythmic ministrations. Billy kept babbling on and almost screaming at the top of his lungs from the sheer ecstasy he was experiencing, leaving crescent shaped welts in Brahms's shoulders in the process.
Once Brahms found the perfect rhythm and tempo of his actions to make Billy cry desperately even louder, he felt the unmistakable signal that he was growing close to his peak. He picked up his pace even more, his thrusts growing more and more frantic before he groaned shakily, pushing himself as deep into Billy as he could possibly go and held tightly onto him. He moaned loudly as he felt himself erupt inside of Billy, who moaned slightly at the sensation. Billy, not soon after, tensed his entire body up around Brahms and moaned shakily, coming just as suddenly with ragged breaths.
"Goddamn," Billy muttered as he pulled himself off of Brahms, only to be held down still as the taller man tightly wrapped his arms around him. He initially froze at the more affectionate contact but soon enough, eased into it and buried his face into his shoulder with a hum. "I take it you probably don't hate me," he hummed, idly playing with the man's unkempt beard.
Brahms stayed silent for a moment before he softly spoke, "No, even if you can be really annoying."
"Awe, thanks," Billy cooed, snuggling up closer to him with a warm smile, "I plan on topping you next time though."
"Don't count on it," his counterpart murmured quietly as he held him closer and closed his eyes, slowly lulling both Billy and himself into a comfortable, deep sleep.