“Are you okay?”
Murdoc sighs, flexing his hand before resting it again on his hip. His half-hard dick twitches for attention.
“For the last time, yes” Murdoc thinks in response, frustrated.
They’d been exchanging and preparing and confirming for what felt like days to Murdoc, who was sprawled naked on his bed surrounded by lit candles on the floor, with Russel nowhere in sight. If he had known that kinky spiritual telepathy sex took this much work, he would’ve just gotten out a vibrator and a phone to call Russel with instead.
Russel must have heard that, somehow, and replies with a sort of mental huff. “I just don’t want this to get out of hand okay?” Russel explains.
Murdoc rolls his eyes. “I know, I know, can we just get on with it, please? You’re not leaving me blue-balled again”.
Murdoc shifts back to rest on the pillows, feeling his hot skin against the cool silk. There’s a moment of silence and Murdoc worries that they’ve lost contact again and that he’d have to start all over and... shit. His dick just can’t keep it up much longer.
But then Russel thinks “Do you know what I’m about to do?”
And Murdoc rolls his eyes to himself again because of course he does. He responds reluctantly, just wanting to get it over with.
“You’re going to touch me.”
Then, suddenly, Murdoc feels a palm pressing against his length and he’s dizzy.
“That’s right” Russel affirms.
Murdoc groans, drops his head forward, unable to see but instead feel the fingers wrapping themselves around his hardening dick.
It’s just so, well, supernatural.
There was a part of Murdoc that thought Russel couldn’t actually pull it off, but here they were. He can feel the palm continue to press his cock onto his stomach, squeezing it, causing Murdoc to breathe sharply through his nose. He then gasps, slightly, as he feels another hand lift his lower back, probably to allow Russel to gain some leverage. A better view.
It was strangely arousing. Russel had crossed some dimension, or cheated some system in some way, just to fuck him. Okay, maybe a bit more than arousing.
“Holy fuck, Russ!” Murdoc pants, seeing the head of his cock bob.
Long, fast strokes emitting slick noises and the sight of his pleasured cock hardening, seemingly of its own volition, are enough to make Murdoc openly moan to the empty room.
His head falls back, and he feels like he’s melting into the sheets.
This is all so new, this magical feeling: his whole body tingling, all sensation coming from his hard cock utterly swathed in heat. Feeling like his whole body is in heat, probably overheating, more like.
However at this moment the attention his cock is receiving from Russel’s warm, unseen hands is all Murdoc could care about.
“I can see you.”
Russel’s voice travels down Murdoc’s spine, and Murdoc keens.
“When did you finger yourself?”
Murdoc moans and his toes curl.
“Probably while waiting for you.”
“Probably? You can’t remember?”
“I can’t remember a lot of things at the moment.”
Which was true, because Murdoc’s head was foggy, all he could register was the pleasurable sensations running throughout his body.
That must’ve pleased Russel, because now there was a finger pressing inside of Murdoc, causing him to cry out. Fingers were being thrusting in and out, Murdoc’s dick was being stroked and fondled, and he couldn’t help but thrive and whine and clutch the sheets with his blue-knuckled hands.
“Look at yourself” Russel thinks, composed as ever.
Murdoc gulps, lifts his head again. He remembers the mirror, and can feel himself wheeze as he watches his anus clench around nothing, wet and open and wanting.
“Fuck me, Russel, please,” Murdoc calls out.
His brow furrows, his head is so hot and his face hardens.
“I want you so much, holy fuck.”
Russel’s hands abandon Murdoc’s dick and ass. His legs are lifted and the backs of his thighs press against what seems to be the front of Russel’s jeans, causing Murdoc to gasp.
“I want you, too” Russel replies, and drags Murdoc almost to the end of the bed, making the sheets fall to the floor.
Murdoc’s heart swells. His legs hang over the bedside. His toes barely touch the floor.
“I want to see you, Russel” He mutters under a shaky breath.
He’s becoming delirious, feeling like he’s going to start mewling.
“Just wait...” and then Murdoc can feel Russel press his hard cock inside of him.
Murdoc squeezes his eyes tight shut, throws his head back and feels a shock of pleasure travel down his spine with every thrust Russel makes. The bed creaks and bounces along to his cries, covered in sweat with his precome smearing on his stomach.
“I want you to watch,” Russel groans. “I want you to see the way you look when I fuck you, sliding in and out of you and making your hole full of my cum.”
“Is that what you think about when we fuck?” Murdoc chuckles weakly, sighing as the thrusts begin to slow. “You’re sexier than I thought.”
Murdoc licks his lips, a warm breath brushing his cheek. Then, a weight, pressing onto his front, his entire body enveloped in warmth and safety.
“If you keep teasing me, Russ, I swear”
Murdoc lifts his hands, reaching for something and finds it. Strong, broad shoulders. Russel’s shoulders.
“Don’t open your eyes just yet, please,” Russel whispers against Murdoc’s cheek.
Murdoc whines, restlessly fidgeting under Russel – and Russel was here, now, instead of having to just desperately thrust against the feeling of him.
The weight of Russel’s stomach pressed against his was making Murdoc throb, his arms folding over Russel’s body, coaxing him to lean down and kiss him, open and warm.
They moan into the kiss, comfortable. Russel’s hands press against Murdoc’s sides, easing Murdoc down onto his back as Murdoc had unconsciously begun to sit up.
“Look at me,” Russel says, hesitantly.
Slowly, Murdoc does, but then suddenly grips Russel’s shoulders when he realizes that he isn’t on his own bed anymore. His eyes dart around the room, and he looks back up at Russel’s flushed, worn face.
“Where am I?” Murdoc whispers.
Russel smooths his hands on the sheets, taking a deep breath.
“My hotel room.”
Murdoc’s breath becomes rapid, and his nails press into Russel’s skin hard enough to make him wince. Murdoc digs his heels into Russel’s lower back.
“If you don’t come inside me now, Russel, I’m going to scream.”
That does the trick.
Russel’s thrusts sped up, hitting Murdoc’s spot over and over, and Murdoc revels in it. Murdoc had been stroked and fingered and fucked to the edge, and now before he could process that Russel was here and how good he feels, he’s clawing at Russel’s back and screaming as he comes.
Russel is heaving, droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. Murdoc pants, rubbing Russel’s upper arms.
“Fill me up, Russel,” Murdoc sighed, “you’re so good to me. Giving me your big cock. Please.”
And Russel does, keening and pressing another long, warm kiss to Murdoc.
“I love you, I love you,” Russel rasps.
Murdoc eagerly returns the kiss. “Love you too, love you-“
And Murdoc is alone. He sighs, embarrassed at the awkward way his arms and legs hang in the air.
Eventually, he grumbles, “Fucker, ditched me to clean up the whole sodding mess.”