“And this one!” Niccolò leans in again, pressing his lips to Martino’s cheek for the umpteenth time.
“You know, in a way you could say the giraffe has freckles too!” he smiles and Martino makes sure he can see just how hard he’s rolling his eyes right now.
“Uh and I love this one too!” he kisses his skin again only millimeters from where he just pressed his lips to it, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Martino was actually trying to get his boyfriend to watch the final episode of Last Man on Earth with him, he might find it funny. Cute, even. Would probably revel in the attention and the way Niccolò’s looking at him right now, all heart eyes and messy curls still damp from their shower together, peppering his skin with kisses to match each freckle there.
It’s not like he doesn’t know the concept of distraction himself. Not like he doesn’t notice how warm Nicco feels next to him, how good he smells, as they lie there next to each other on their bellies in nothing but sweatpants because they couldn’t be bothered to put on underwear, but goddammit if he’s gonna let him have this one too-
“Can you focus, please?!” Martino sighs exaggeratedly, not looking away from the screen as he grabs Niccolò’s chin inches away from kissing him again and redirects it back towards the open laptop in front of them, the wide smile on his own face not really doing much for the authority he’s trying to convey.
“Not when you’re lying there looking so fucking beautiful” Niccolò tilts his head and sends Martino that deceiving innocent smile he always does when he’s up to something.
In a swift move, he grabs Martino’s wrist from under his chin and pulls it towards him, making his elbow give out under him and his upper body fall flat on the bed. Quickly, Niccolò climbs up and straddles his back still holding Martino’s wrist, rummaging for his other one, laughing and giggling when Martino struggles to break free from the double arm lock Niccolò’s now got him in.
“And I love this, and this and this!” he places wet kisses to the side of Martino’s face, already a little red and out of breath, trying to wiggle free from under him.
“Stop..” Martino objects half-heartedly, laughing now too and pressing his face into the sheets, not missing the sweet friction from the fabric of his sweatpants as he pushes his hips first up and then back down into the sheets in an even less than half-hearted attempt to push Niccolò off of him. He lets out a groan, admittedly sounding not too different from a moan and Niccolò notices. Of course he does.
And suddenly there’s a change in the air around them, a heat building between them at dizzying speed and a flush spreading just as fast up Martino’s chest to his neck, and he can practically hear the smug smile on Nicco’s lips as he releases the arm lock and brings their hands slowly back down on the bed, placing his own firmly on top of Martino’s, lacing their fingers together as he leans in over him.
Martino can feel Niccolò’s warm breath on his neck and the pressure from his chest and hips heavy against his back. He turns his head to sneak a glance up at his boyfriend from out of the corner of his eye, and there’s absolutely nothing innocent about the way Niccolò’s smiling now.
“And I love this” he whispers against Martino’s neck and kisses it, gently sucking the sensitive skin there in between his teeth, his fingers curling tightly between Martino’s as he grinds down onto him, leaving both of them breathless in the proces. Martino wonders for a moment if they’re even counting freckles anymore, not that he can bring himself to care.
All he cares about right now is the weight of Niccolo’s body pressing down on top of him, the warm wetness of his mouth on his skin and the exhilarating sensation of his hard-on rubbing teasingly along the cleft of his ass. Feeling his own hard-on press up against the lining of his sweatpants, Martino opens his legs slightly to give him more room between them, more friction, but Niccolò seems to have other plans for them now.
Slowly releasing his grip between Martino’s fingers, he slides down a bit further, lips never breaking apart from skin, hands neither. Tracing smoothly down Martino’s arms and over his shoulders.
“And this” he sighs, kissing the pointed edge of Martino’s shoulder blade, freckle or not, and Martino shivers slightly when he feels Niccolò’s tongue peek out from between his teeth and travel down slowly along his spine until he reaches the small of his back, stopping to kiss another freckle there.
“This one, however…” Niccolò murmurs, sliding his hands down Martino’s sides to his hips, squeezing gently before hooking a finger inside his sweatpants on either side and Martino can barely breathe.
He knows where Niccolò’a going next and it’s not like he doesn’t like it. Not like it didn’t feel amazing those few times he’d felt Niccolò’s tongue wander off in the heat of the moment while blowing him. Not like it didn’t make him come hard and embarrassingly fast every time and still left him wanting for more. It’s just all still very new and he gets a little nervous sometimes.
“Ni..” Martino pushes up on his elbows and turns back towards him.
“Baby, I just want to make you feel good” Niccolò pauses, pressing a soft kiss to the grey fabric of Martino’s pants. “I just want to know all of you. Like I want you to know all of me ” he smiles up at him, and Martino couldn’t hide his excitement if he tried to.
“I promise I’ll go slow, and you can tell me to stop anytime, okay?”
They lock eyes for a moment and it’s like everything else in Martino’s vision fades. There’s only those eyes. Eyes he knows so well by now, dark green and hazel, and in them a promise that no matter what happens, Niccolò’s got him. They’ve got each other.
“Okay” Martino smiles and buries his face back in the sheets with a small whine, hoping Niccolò doesn’t notice how the flush seems to spread all the way up to his cheeks.
As it turns out, slow doesn’t even begin to describe the pace Niccolò plans to go. In fact, Martino almost considers turning around again and ask him to get the fuck on with it, when finally he feels the gentle pull at the waistband of his sweatpants, the elastic band stretching to accommodate as it traces slowly up over the curve of his ass and all the way down to his thighs, where Niccolò lets it sit right under the round of his cheeks before placing his lips softly at the top of Martino’s left one.
“This is my favorite” Niccolò hums softly into his skin “...the cutest little freckle I’ve ever seen.”
He kisses it. It’s softer than before and followed by a slight pause, almost like he’s waiting for Martino to react to his touch. To approve of it.
Martino lets out a shaky breath, only just realizing he’s been holding it for too long. He feels his whole body melt into the sheets, a calm wave of trust and want washing over him and making him fully relax, knowing he’s completely safe with Niccolò.
“Is it okay if I kiss you here?” Niccolò traces his nose up over the curve of Martino’s left cheek and down to his right one and pauses, once again waiting for Martino to respond.
“Ye-” he breathes out in something in between a whisper and a moan “Yes” he clears his throat, cursing himself for being so goddamn obvious (and Nicco for having the audacity to make him speak right now).
Niccolò chuckles in response and kisses his other cheek, this time a little more deliberate. The sensation of tongue on Martino’s skin, maybe even a bit of teeth, is making all the tiny hairs on his body stand on end.
“And what about here?” Niccolò moves a bit further down and kisses him again, definitely teeth this time, and everything inside Martino is screaming for him to keep going, the previous slow building heat rapidly replaced by a burning need for Niccolò to just touch him, kiss him, lick-
“Ye- yes. Please don’t stop” Martino sighs heavily, his breath hitching in his throat as he feels Niccolò’s tongue peek out again, trailing down from where he just kissed him and further in between his cheeks.
“Fu-uck ” Martino groans, not even bothering to try and fight the way his back arches into it, the waistband of his sweatpants adding a tantalizing pressure against his taint as he does so.
“Mmh” Niccolò hums in return, licking tentatively all the way down the inside of one cheek and back up the other, still avoiding the most sensitive areas, as if he doesn’t want to be too direct. As if he wants Martino to decide for himself when he’s ready.
He does it again, a soft slow stroke of his tongue downwards just at the outline of the puckered skin there and Martino’s certain Niccolò’s trying to kill him right now, not sure what will kill him first though; the painful pleasure of Niccolò’s touch burning on his skin or the pleasurable pain of needing so much more.
Niccolò pauses again, his hands still holding Martino’s hips in a firm grip as he pulls back slightly, and it almost feels like he enjoys driving him wild like this, enjoys watching Martino squirm under him.
“Can you just- please” Martino tries, but words don’t seem to want to form into the coherent structure needed for it to count as an actual sentence. He’s panting now and he’s pretty sure there was a whine somewhere in the back of his throat, probably making him sound about half as desperate as he feels right now.
“Can I just, what… Focus?” Niccolò teases and Martino would kick him if he wasn’t so goddamn turned on right now.
“Fuck y-“ he stutters, suddenly interrupted by the flicking of tongue and the overwhelming sensation of blood instantly rushing from his brain and south, collecting like a river bed and pulsing like a beating heart in between his trembling thighs as he finally finally feels Niccolò’s tongue lick tentatively across his hole.
It’s like his body can’t tell if it needs to breathe in or breathe out, and he can’t for the life of him seem to hold back the sounds falling from his mouth. He feels the tight muscle give way against the soft swirl of tongue right where he’s most sensitive. Like it’s simultaneously tensing and relaxing at the touch, the sensation spreading to his whole body, to his goddamn toes, and it’s like he’s never been more connected to his own body. Like the shame and fear his brain was telling him to feel for wanting this, for even thinking about this, is finally overruled by his body’s knowledge of what is right. Because how could anything that feels this good, be wrong?
And somehow this new found confidence allows him to notice all the little details he’s been too nervous to pay attention to until now. Like how Nicco’s long fingers dig into his hips, struggling to keep him in place as he arches his back more and rolls his hips against Niccolò’s face. Or the wet, delicious sounds of passionate licks and gentle kisses, almost like Niccolò’s making out with his ass, saliva dripping down between his thighs. The stretch of the elastic under him adding perfect pressure against his straining cock and the tantalizing, tickling sensation of Nicco’s tongue as he licks and sucks on his rim, occasionally dipping inside the heat and setting every single nerve ending in Martino’s body on fire.
“You taste so fucking good, baby” Niccolò moans into him, the sounds of his voice hoarse and desperate bringing Martino right to the brink, rutting into the bed below him as his hands scramble at the sheets for something to hold onto, as if to keep himself from falling apart beneath him.
Because he wants to stay here just a little bit longer. Wants to live in this minute, to stretch it into eternity. Savour this moment with the man who has his whole heart. Like they really are the last men on Earth.
Martino opens his eyes, finding dark green and hazel staring right back into his with so much love it almost hurts.
He’s not really sure how long he’s been lying there with his eyes closed, not sure how long Niccolò’s been lying there next to him on his belly, cheek resting on his hand, watching him. Letting Martino take his time to get back in his body, back to reality.
“Ciao” Niccolò whispers with such tenderness, that Martino feels an urgent need to crack a joke just to keep himself from tearing up.
“I think I need another shower” he chuckles, gazing down at the mess he’s made through the front of his sweatpants.
“You were amazing” Niccolò sighs, almost like he’s replaying the whole thing in his mind. “I love you so much.”
A calm silence falls between them and Martino smiles in return, lifting his hand to caress Niccolò’s cheek like he does every morning, and somehow this feels like a dawning of a new day too, a beginning of something new and exciting. He runs his thumb over Niccolò’s lower lip, drawing it down a bit, still red and a little puffy and so so inviting.
“Kiss me” Martino smiles, and Niccolò sends him that smile again, eyes playful and teasing.
“Yeah, you know..” he turns his head towards the laptop still lying there in front of them on the bed, abandoned and in sleep mode. “I was actually trying to watch this really good show-“
“Shut up!” Martino pushes him, then pulls him back in for the kiss he deserves, the kiss they both deserve.
Because even if they were in fact the last men on Earth, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.