Gabe wakes up with Pete's head on his chest, Pete's hands curled in the elastic of his boxers, Pete's hair tickling his chin. It's about as nice a way as there is to wake up from an afternoon nap.
Gabe turns his head and ruffles his fingers through Pete's hair. "Hey. You awake?"
Pete makes a muffled noise and wiggles against him, his mouth sliding over Gabe's chest. Dry lips, wet tongue, a hint of teeth. Gabe closes his eyes and tugs lightly at Pete's hair. "No biting."
Pete's mouthing at him turns into licking, slow hot strokes of his tongue. He pauses every couple of stroke and smacks his lips, sampling the taste of Gabe's skin, and the sound of it sends hot little jolts up Gabe's spine. He loves this. Lazy, quiet time with Pete, where they can do whatever they want. Sex, pedicures, watching bad movies. Being versions of themselves that wouldn't play outside these walls.
Sometimes Pete's version of himself is a puppy. Gabe's okay with that.
"No biting," he says again when Pete's teeth catch at his collarbone. He bops the back of Pete's head lightly. "Be gentle."
Pete whines and wiggles against him again. Gabe's breath catches in his chest when he feels Pete's dick bump against his hip. Oh. Pete woke up hard. Puppies can't control that sort of thing.
"You're a good boy," he says when Pete starts licking again. "You're such a good boy." He runs his hand down Pete's back slowly, settling it against the curve of Pete's ass and pulling him firmly against his hip. Pete squeaks, pausing to breathe hot and fast against Gabe's chest.
"Good boy," Gabe says again. "Go ahead, puppy."
Pete groans, low in his throat so it's almost a growl, and starts rocking his hips in a steady rhythm. Fast, desperate little thrusts, humping against Gabe. Gabe keeps his hand on Pete's ass, steadying him there. He knows exactly how long Pete can last like this, frantic and all-out.
Pete bites him again when he comes, teeth sinking into Gabe's chest while he spills hot and messy on Gabe's thigh. Gabe smacks the back of his head again and reaches down to palm his own cock, curved up hard toward his belly. "I said no biting. Now you're a bad puppy. And you made a mess. Bad."
Pete bares his teeth and growls at him, his eyes soft and dopey, a smile tugging at the edges of his snarl. Gabe grips his hair more firmly and pushes Pete down to rub his face in the wet spot on Gabe's boxers. "Bad puppy. Clean up your mess."
Pete licks and licks, getting the fabric even wetter and then nosing it up so he can lick Gabe's skin underneath. Having the hot wet of his mouth so close to his dick but not quite there makes Gabe's nerves zing like he's touching a battery. He wants to ride it out for as long as he can.
Except Pete knows, of course he knows, and he moves over to lick at the head of Gabe's cock where it's poking up over the waistband of his boxers. Lick, lick, lick, fast and flat, not teasing but overwhelming Gabe with sensation until his hips buck up and he comes on his stomach and Pete's face.
Pete grins at him, licking his lips and wiggling his whole body. "Come here," Gabe says, holding out his arms. Pete crawls up and Gabe hugs him to his chest, running his hands in slow circles over Pete's back.
If they're not careful, they're going to fall asleep again like this, with sweat and come cooling on their skin. They're probably not going to be careful. It's just that kind of day.