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scrollonso · 3 months

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Heaven

A marcmarc fluff oneshot (1.7k words)

Pecco had won, and despite Bez finishing eighth, seeing his best friend on the top step of the podium washed away all his disappointment. Seeing his boyfriend smiling so brightly with his brother standing just one step below probably helped too. Bez couldn't help but shift his focus from Pecco to the Spaniard beside him, he looked perfect up there.

A few hours had passed since the podium celebration, and now Bez was heading out to celebrate the way he liked best, with alcohol and the rest of the academy. As soon as he entered the bar, Pecco greeted him with a bright smile. They hugged without hesitation.

"Feeling good, amo?" Bez grinned at his friend, who nodded, still on cloud nine from his earlier win.

"Andavi fortissimo," Bez praised. It was true, Pecco had been incredibly fast, beating Marc was a big deal, especially to Vale's boys.

They made their way through the building, joining the others and striking up conversations.

It didn't take long for Bez to get drunk, becoming more giggly than usual as he clung to anyone who got too close.

Cele was the closest, not minding the arms wrapped around him as he continued to drink, far less drunk than the curly-haired boy attached to his hip. Everything was funnier to Bez in this state, whether it was Vale coughing or a girl coming over to hit on one of them, he couldn't stop the giggles that followed.

As the night went on, the bar became livelier. Bez's laughter filled the room. Cele, amused by his friend's antics, tried to keep Bez upright as they navigated through the crowd.

"Hey, Bez, maybe slow down a bit," Cele suggested, chuckling as Bez nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Wowww" Bez groaned, his words slurring slightly. "Are you making fun of me for getting eigth"

"Oh shut up" Cele rolled his eyes, pushing him into a seat in a quieter area of the bar, not wanting him to get too drunk. The last thing he wanted to do was be on "Babysit Bez" duty.

Pecco joined them, a drink in hand and a wide grin on his face. "Looks like someone's having a good time," he teased, hand patting the back of Bez's head.

Bez frowned up at him. "Cele's making fun of me, this isn't fun anymore" The trio knew he was just being dramatic, this is how it went for Bez. Clingy, overdramatic, then sad.

Bez leaned heavily against Cele, his head resting on his shoulder. Cele's arm wrapped around Bez's shoulders, keeping him steady.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" Pecco asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Training," Cele replied, rolling his eyes. "Break just started and I can't even enjoy it yet."

Bez groaned dramatically as if he was the one scheduled to train, he had a week until his turn. "Do we have to? Can't we just stay here and drink forever?"

Pecco laughed. "Don't think you need any more to drink ever."

The night continued with stories, laughter, and more drinks, to Pecco's dismay. Eventually, Bez's energy began to wane. Cele noticed and leaned closer, having to speak louder into his ear to make his voice clear over the music.

"You okay?" Cele asked, concern in his eyes.

Bez nodded, though his eyelids were drooping. "Just tired," he mumbled.

Pecco sat down beside him. "Maybe it's time to call it a night. You've had enough fun for one evening." Bez sighed but didn't argue.

With Cele's help, Bez managed to stand up. Pecco took his other side, and together they guided him out of the bar. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy bar, and Bez took a deep breath, feeling a bit more alert.

"Thanks," Bez said, his voice soft. "You guys are so nice to me."

"Of course," Cele replied, smiling.

As they walked back to their hotel, the streets quiet and empty, Bez began to perk up at the thought of seeing Rubik. When they finally reached the hotel and made their way to Bez's room, they were greeted by an enthusiastic dog, who immediately bounded over, tail wagging furiously.

"Hey, buddy," Bez mumbled, kneeling down to cup Rubik's face, kissing all over the dogs fur. His excitement was contagious, and Bez's tired eyes lit up.

"Looks like someone missed you," Cele said with a smile, watching the joyful reunion, no matter how long the two were apart it was always like this when they came back together.

Pecco gave Bez a quick hug once he finally let go of the Pitbull, "Sleep well, Bez. We'll see you in the morning?"

Bez nodded, having no plan of falling asleep as he fell onto his bed, Rubik settling down beside Bez as he pulled his phone from his back pocket to call Marc.

The phone rang a few times before he heard a familiar voice on the other line, curls falling back as he rolled onto his back. "Cucciolo, where are you?"

"I'm on the way to my hotel, is everything okay mi cielo?" Marc asked, picking up on Bez's drunken state just by the way he spoke

"Come to mine?" He asked, slightly whining as he thought about being alone, now he was sad.

"Okay, I'll be there soon Marco" He confirmed before hanging up, he was about a 10 minute drive from Bez's hotel.

Bez waited impatiently, the Spaniard couldn't get there soon enough. He pulled Rubik closer, muttering in Italian about his boyfriend. Where was he? Was he close? Was he not coming? Did Marc not want to see him?

It was silly, really, Marc adored being with Bez, he was happiest with the Italian in his arms and Bez was well aware of that, Marc made sure to vocalize his feelings whenever he could so there was no need for him to get so worked up over this, though the alcohol wasn't working in his favour.

Having a dog like Rubik was great when Bez was alone, he could be as clingy as he wanted to the pitbull and he never cared, more than happy to be smothered by the racer.

Time passed by slow for both of them, Marc eager to get out of his car and hurry inside, knowing exactly where to go to find Bez's room, it was easier when they were staying in motorhomes by the track but because the two were staying in Germany a little longer than the others their managers made sure to book them hotels instead.

He soon reached the boys door, knocking three quick times before stepping back to wait for the door to swing open.

Like clockwork both Bez and Rubik shot up, greeting Marc with smiles on their faces. Before the Spaniard could even speak the Italians arms were wrapped around his shoulders, light kisses being pressed on the side of his face as he was pulled back into the room

"Hi, cielo, hi" Marc laughed, leaning into the touch as Rubik waited impatiently for some attention to be on him, too.

"I missed you so much" Bez confessed between kisses, pulling back to look at Marc, "missed your face."

He couldn't stop his lips from curling up as he looked at Bez, eyes shining as he examined his boyfriends face. Cheeks still flushed red from his activities earlier in the night, curls now frizzy from laying on his back while waiting.

"Did you have fun? You celebrated with Pecco, no?" Marc asked, looking away to give Rubik what he wanted, nice scratches under his jaw

Bez hummed, cheeks hurting because of the smile stuck on his face, he loved seeing Rubik and Marc together, his two favourite boys getting along. "Yeah, everyone went to a bar together, drank too much"

"You always drink too much" He responded playfully, laughing at the expression on Bez's face, he knew it was true but he'd never admit it.

It wasn't long before they ended up laying down together, Rubik curled up on Marc's left, Bez on his right with his head on his chest as if he wasn't nearly 10 centimeters taller than him. To them it didn't matter, this is how it went. Marc always made sure Bez knew he was his, his baby, his heaven, his Marco.

Marc's hand found its way into the Italians hair, nails softly scratching Bez's hair. He hummed contently, eyes closing as he focused on the feeling, something so comforting about the position they were in, they'd stay like this forever if they could.

The room was filled with a quiet sense of peace as they lay together. Bez's breathing started to even out, and Marc could feel the tension melt away from his boyfriend's body. Rubik snuggled closer to Marc's side, his warmth adding to the cozy atmosphere.

Marc softly whispered, "Te amo, Marco."

"Ti amo, Marc," Bez murmured back, a sleepy smile on his face. He felt completely at ease, surrounded by the two people he loved most.

After a few moments of silence, Bez spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for coming, amore."

Marc pressed a gentle kiss to Bez's forehead. "I'll always come to you. You know that."

Bez nodded, feeling his eyes grow heavier. He clung to the comfort of Marc's presence and Rubik's warmth. It was moments like these that made having to keep this a secret worth it. He was loved, cherished, and supported, and he knew that.

As the night deepened, Marc continued to run his fingers through Bez's hair, humming quietly as he gazed lovingly, Marc could look at him forever. Bez's breathing became slow and rhythmic, signaling that he had finally fallen asleep. Marc glanced down at him, his heart swelling with affection.

"Sleep well," Marc whispered.

The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of their breathing and the occasional snuffle from Rubik. The chaos of the day had faded, leaving only the serenity of the night. Marc stayed awake a little longer, savoring the moment and the sense of completeness it brought him.

Eventually, he too closed his eyes, letting sleep take over. Tomorrow could wait. For now, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

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scrollonso · 1 month

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Gentle — Marcmarc oneshot

Marc steadies Marco with a hand on his thigh as he leans over Marc’s lap, reaching for the popcorn on the sitting room table. His boyfriend makes a little questioning noise in his throat, and tilts the bag towards Marc, but Marc just shakes his head with a smile, hand rubbing up and down his thigh affectionately. Marco looks so cute like this, dark curls in his eyes, dressed in just a hoodie and sweatpants, light from the TV highlighting his face every now and then.

Marc doesn’t miss how Marco scooches a little closer to him when he puts the popcorn back down, pressing his body closer into Marc’s side, the two of them comfortable and lazy in Marc and Alex's house. He takes it as permission to keep stroking Marco's thigh, moving his thumb in small circles. His attention is easily diverted from the movie to instead watch Marco pick up one piece of popcorn at a time, nibbling and swallowing before starting the next, like he’s a squirrel or something.

Marco notices him staring quickly, glancing his way with his wide, puppy-dog eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” Marc smiles, and leans in to kiss him, tasting the salty popcorn on his mouth. He wants more of it, and kisses him again, longer and slower.

Marco sighs with a happy, low noise when he pulls away, and Marc realises he’s gripping Marco's thigh a little harder than before, though Marco doesn’t seem to mind. “Where did that come from?”

“Can’t I kiss my gorgeous boyfriend?” he asks, leaning forward again to press a kiss to where his jaw meets his neck, burying his nose in Marco's soft hair.

“Of course,” Marco says, voice softer now. “But you could tell me what brought it on. I might need it in the future.”

Marc smiles into his skin, kissing down the length of Marco's jawline just because he can. He wants to, and Marco likes it, tilting his head a little to give in to Marc, and Marc has kind of lost interest in the movie anyway. It was fine, he just has something much more interesting sitting right beside him.

“Why would you need anything special to woo me? You can just ask me for what you want, whenever you want. I’ll give it to you.” He’s made his way back to Marco's mouth, and kisses him there again, before continuing up the other side of his face. Marco turns his head again for him, humming happily.

“Because saying things is hard. But if all I need to do is eat popcorn and you’re all over me, then great, I’ll remember that.”

Marc laughs a little, reaching Marco's neck, and beginning to kiss down it slowly, languid. He’s turned his whole body towards Marco on the sofa now, and plants a hand over the back of the cushions to steady himself, press in a little closer. “I know you can get shy. But I’m so gone for you, amor, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Nothing to be shy about when it’s me, okay?”

“It’s the most scary when it’s you,” Marco says, very softly, almost a whisper.

Marc withdraws. “Really? Was that too much — are you not comfortable with this?”

Marco shakes his head, stumbling over his words. “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that I’m scared of you — you’ve never made me feel like that. It’s that I’m scared I’m not… that I don’t know… I mean, you know I’ve never seriously dated before…”

“You’re scared of the unknown?”

Marco nods, exhaling. “Not scared to be with you. Just scared to get everything right with you, to be good enough.”

“You’re always good, you’re so good, sweet boy. Never feel like you’re not, because I like you just as you are. Is there something I can do to help you feel at ease?”

“I do feel at ease, I feel so happy with you,” Marco says quietly, and leans in to kiss him, but even this is hesitant, like he’s not sure he can. Marc captures his face with one hand to hold him close, give him confidence that Marc wants this, likes this too.

“Then what is it about me that makes you shy?”

“I just…” Marco is going pinker the more they speak, voice softer, as if Marc might not take it to heart if he doesn’t say it too loud. “I like you so much. I want to make things nice for you too, I want to do things right. But I feel like I can’t when I don’t have any experience.”

"Ricitos, you’ve been so perfect. I'll tell you that every day, if you want. I love being with you because it’s you, not because I want a perfect kisser or someone who gives an amazing blowjob or whatever. When I kiss you and touch you, it’s because I like you so much. When we go further, I don’t have expectations for you, you know that, right? We don’t need to know what we’re doing the first time. Being with someone new is always like that, in a way, so it will be a new experience for me too.”

“It’s not quite the same as never having done anything sexual with anyone, ever,” Marco says, a little self-depreciatingly.

“Hey, don’t do that. Everyone moves at different paces, it’s shitty to shame that. Whenever you wanna go there, we can, and anything you don’t want to do, we don’t have to, okay? You don’t need to be worried about that with me. I want to take care of you first, make sure you’re happy and enjoying what we’re doing. That goes for anything, kissing, touching, any of it. But I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what you do like or don’t like. So that’s the only thing I have to ask of you — try to talk to me as much as you can, okay? Even if you’re shy, know that you’re perfect to me, you’re doing so great. I just want to know what will make you happier, and what you want. Okay?”

Marco's eyes shine a little as they turn on Marc, and his boyfriend leans in again, kissing Marc’s mouth with more confidence and genuine ease this time. It makes him smile, and Maco smiles in return.

“Thank you. That means a lot. I’ll try my best.”

“Anytime, handsome.” His hand is still on Marco's thigh, and he rubs it a few times soothingly, the two of them sitting closely, comfortably. “Okay, now can you tell me what’s actually going on in this movie? I’ve lost the plot.”

Their first kiss had been on their second date, after three weeks of knowing each other. They were having a quiet picnic after the Austin GP, where Marc had bought them hot dogs and they’d talked about whether or not their parents knew they were gay. Marc’s did, Marco's didn’t.

He’d learned a lot more about Marco that day. They finally surpassed flirting messages and shy glances, and while watching the children run through the fountain, he’d learned Marco was homeschooled throughout childhood so he could race but mainly so he could help his dad in his shop, that his best friends were his parents and Rubik, and that, despite appearances, he had never been on a date before.

“But do you mean like, a proper date with flowers and a restaurant and fancy clothes, or do you mean any date at all?”

Marco tilts his head to give him an amused look. “Isn’t this a date?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Are there any flowers or restaurants here?”

“Well, there are flowers over there… but ok, yeah, point taken. I just can’t believe no one has ever asked you out before. That’s crazy, actually insane.”

Marco shrugs. “Not had many opportunities to meet people before I started working. As a teenager I was too shy to even speak to people.”

“So I’m the first boy you’ve said yes to?”

Marco laughs bashfully. “Yeah, okay, I’ve been asked before. Usually by women, though. You’re the first guy I’ve met who seems so… I don’t know. You’ve got such a genuine nature. It made me want to give you a shot.”

“Why thank you,” Marc says, with a little bow.

They buy ice creams after they finish their food, and wander through the trees together. They end up going store to store after that, then to a restaurant for dinner, then the date continues into an arcade downtown. Neither one of them want to call an end to it, and the conversation flows easily.

Eventually, Marco calls ita night, because he has an early flight the following day. Marc is just glad one of them is strong enough to, and walks him to his hotel.

As they’re walking through an alley lit by neon lights, Marc slips an arm around his waist, and Marco returns with one around his shoulders.

“How am I for a good date, then? Do I get a good rating?”

“I’m not a reliable measure of that, since the only other date I’ve been on was also with you.”

“Sure, but I don’t need to know the answer on the scale of universal dates. I just need to know if it was good on the scale of Marco.”

Marco laughs. “It was really, really good. I loved it.”

Marc stops them before they exit the alley, the rush of the main street passing them unawares. “I’m really, really glad to hear that,” he says, pulling Marco a little closer to him. “Is it okay if I kiss you now?”

Marco nods, curve of his cheek lit up purple under the lights. Marc leans in and give him a soft, sweet kiss to the lips.

There’s a sparkle in Marco's eyes when Marc leans out, and they both press forward again for another kiss, just as sweet, but a little longer this time. Marco looks up and down his face, and Marc wonders if he’ll go in again.

“Thank you,” he says softly, and Marc strokes a long piece of hair behind his ear.

“No need to thank me. Was that your first kiss?”

Marco nods, and Marc finds him so sweet, he can’t help but lean in to kiss him again.

“You were perfect,” he says, planting a peck to his cheek before leading them both out to the street again, Marco's face perfectly pleased under the lights, his body warm to the touch.

Marc had booked them a table at a nice Italian restaraunt for their 100-day anniversary, and has to go to Alex for help with what to wear for it. Something nice, but not over-the-top. Something that shows he thought about this, and cherishes their anniversary, but not to outdo Marco too much if he turns up in a t-shirt and jeans. He thinks 100 days is a pretty neat milestone for them to celebrate, but they’ve been taking things slowly since the beginning, and he doesn’t want to make it too much of a thing if Marco doesn’t.

That’s all blown out of the water when Marco shows up.

Marc is waiting for him outside the restaurant, all-too pleased with his dark overshirt, white inner shirt, dark jeans combo, and he spots Marco coming from across the street. It’s like there’s a spotlight on him, even in the dim evening light, even in the crowded streets of Romagna.

Marco's dressed in a sheer, sparkly white shirt, long-sleeved, a glittery jacket over it, and white trousers. He's no stranger to more feminine clothes, Marc knew that, but before he was just some coworker in clothing from the womens isle of a department store. Now, with his dark hair neatly pulled back out of his face, he looks like Marc's beautiful, wonderful boyfriend.

“I think I made a mistake coming in all white,” he says as soon as he reaches Marc, taking his hand and giving him a kiss. “There are definitely going to be stains by the time we leave.”

“It’s worth it,” he says, cupping his hand to Marco's cheek and kissing him again, then unashamedly looking his boyfriend up and down. He’d been too polite to do so the last two times he'd seen the Italian all dressed up, but now he knows this is meant for him to look at. Marco's whole chest is visible through the sheet shirt, twinkling under the restaurant lights. “You look amazing, God. I don’t know if I’m hungry for food anymore, baby, I could eat you all up.”

Marco smiles shyly, eyes curving sweetly. “That’s too bad, because I’m starving. Come on.”

As they’re shown to their table, and he sees Marco under better light, he spots the twinkle of glitter on his eyes too. “Did you even do your makeup?” he asks, when the waiter has barely left their table. “Man, now I feel underdressed.”

“You look so good, Marc,” Marco says, half a whine. “Don’t say that.”

“Okay, I look fine I guess. You should’ve told me you were dressing nice, I would’ve done something too!”

“You look really nice already! What were you gonna do, wear a dress?”

“Yeah, point taken. But you seriously went all out. Was it all to surprise me?”

“Maybe,” Marco says, looking down at the menu with a little smile on his face. “It’s nothing too much — I already had the clothes, and I asked Domizia to help me put some makeup on. I’m glad you like it so much.”

“You look out of this world,” Marc says, and Marco laughs again at his earnestness. “And I’m not just saying that cause your outfit twinkles more than the stars. You’re so gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re ever shy about anything, looking like way you do, baby.”

Marco's laugh turns bashful, shoulders rising to his ears. “It’s not that I’m not confident in how I look, I don’t have a problem with that. I just don't know what to actually do with myself, like, ever.”

“Honestly, you could just sit there and look pretty and I’d do whatever you asked of me, gorgeous.”

The waiter reappears at their table to take their order at that exact moment, and Marc suppresses laughter as Marfo goes even pinker than before, stammering out his order. Marc hasn’t taken his eyes away from Marco long enough to check what’s available, but he takes a stab at something on the list and orders it. He’ll be happy with whatever comes.

He’s got more important things on the menu for tonight.

“To be honest…” Marco starts, pulling at his earlobe and glancing at the floor before courageously meeting Marc’s eyes. “Well, I hoped you’d be looking at me tonight.”

It’s the boldest thing he’s ever heard Marco say to him. “I’m definitely looking,” Marc promises, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Did you want my attention?”

“I always do,” Marco says, reaching out over the table, and Marc leans forward automatically to take Marco's hands. He’s got a roundabout way of working up to things, and Marc can taste the anticipation on his tongue as he waits for his boyfriend to arrive at what he wants. “But I’ve been thinking more about what you said to me a few weeks ago.”

“What was that?”

“You asked me to tell you more about what I want,” Marco says, thumb stroking over Marc's hand slowly, looking between Marc's face and their entangled fingers. “And be honest… and ask you for things.”

“I did,” he agrees, voice low. “So what is your sparkly, sheer shirt telling me? What is it you want?”

“I don’t think I should say it here, in the restaurant,” Marco says, through a breathy laugh. “But I want you to come back to my place, and stay over tonight. Would that be okay?”

Marc exhales, feels his own breath shake a little. He and Marco had been to eachothers houses a few times before but neither of them has stayed the night before.

He’s pretty sure he knows what Marco's getting at.

“Amor, that would be more than okay with me,” he says, lifting Marco's hands to his lips. The press of his lips there is a long moment where only the two of them exist, Marco's smooth skin against his mouth. He feels a little heady, knowing just how much more of his skin Marc will get to explore with his mouth tonight.

They slide back into their seats as the waiter arrives back with their drinks, Marc flashing him a smile even though he barely sees the guy. His whole body feels wired up and alert, like he’s just had something injected into his veins. Now that Marco's made the suggestion, all he can think about is taking that sheer shirt off and getting his hands on his boyfriend — but he’s a civilised man. He can wait, and have their nice anniversary dinner first.

Marc manages to tame the feral animal inside him enough that he can relax back into their intimate evening out together, the two of them buzzed off just a little bit of alcohol, and a lot of the high of being in love. God, he is so gone for Marco.

He can tell Marco is wired up all evening, too, and as soon as they get up to leave the restaurant together, he takes Marco's hand and pulls him close. They walk through the streets swinging their connected hands, laughing and talking about anything and everything they'd been ip to. Marco's laugh makes his heart sing, and he can’t wait to get back to the apartment and kiss him silly.

“Am I still staying the night?” he asks when they’re stood in Marco's apartment block elevator, still holding his boyfriend’s hand. “Don’t feel like you have to say yes if you’ve changed your mind.”

“I can tell how excited you are to stay,” Marco says. The elevator doors slide open, and he leads the way across the hall.

“That doesn’t mean I’m gonna be upset if you change your mind,” Marc says, putting an arm around Marco's waist as he keys in his apartment code.

“I’m excited too,” Marco admits, pushing the door open, and Marc smiles as Marco turns in his entrance way to face Marc, walking backwards into the apartment to keep their hands interlinked.

“God, I’m so ready,” he says, coming in to kiss Marco on the mouth. “Just to be clear, we’re talking about sex, right?”

“We are talking about sex,” Marco confirms, and Marc shifts his hand back to Marco’s waist, to pull him in close and kiss him deeply, slowly.

He hears Marco inhale as he does, tilting his head into Marc’s kiss, free hand sliding up to hold onto his shoulder. Marc’s hand regrips Marco’s waist until his shirt hitches up, and Marc has his hand on hot, bare skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs against Marco's mouth, and gently guides him backwards towards his bedroom.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Marco says, through a breathy laugh, and Marc kisses him again.

“I just wanted to remind you. But also, you’re not going to go down in my estimations if you want to stop at any point…”

“I know, I get it, it’s okay. I’ll tell you. But right now, I really want you, amore.”

“Yeah? How do you want me?”

Marco comes in to kiss under his jaw, and Marc sighs in satisfaction at the touch of his soft lips against Marc’s skin. “I want you to be in charge,” he says, a whisper right by Marc’s ear, like he was too shy to say it aloud. Cute.

“Yeah? You want me to decide everything?”

“Yes, please.”

“No problem, ricitos. I’ll take good care of you, okay? You don’t have to worry about a thing. Take your jacket off for me, and your shirt.”

Marco complies readily, dropping the jacket on the floor and lifting his shirt over his head.

Marc groans, admiring Marco's figure, reaching out to run his hands up his sides. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’ve been working out more than usual…” he says, as if embarrassed by the fact that he looks sculpted by a God.

“It’s paying off,” Marc reassures him. “Take your pants off and get on the bed, okay?”

Marco unzips his jeans as Marc pulls off his top in one movement, following Marco over to the bed, the two of them never far apart as Marco sits back, looking Marc up and down with round eyes.

“Amore,” he says, catching Marc's attention as he shoves down his own jeans.

“Yes, sweet boy?”

Marco pulls himself back onto his bed, and Marc mounts the bed on his knees, crawling over after him until they come to a comfortable stop in the middle of the bed, Marco sitting up, Marc leaning forward. “I love you.”

Marc hums, and leans forward to kiss him again. “I love you too. Lie down, baby.”

Marco's elbows slowly give way until he’s on his back, and Marc leans over to kiss his collarbones, taking Marco's thighs in his hands to reposition him, so he can plant himself between Marco's legs. He seems surprised by it, making a little noise that makes Marc want to bite down and mark his skin. Instead, he continues kissing downwards, along the divot in his chest, over every mole littering his chest, leading towards his toned stomach. Every inhale throws Marco's hard work into relief, muscles standing out in the lamplight of the bedroom, and something in him loves that Marco is strong but wants Marc to take charge, make him his.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs. “Turn over, let me see all of you.”

Marco goes obediently, and Marc runs his hands over his bare back, feeling every notch of his spine and beginning to kiss along that too. His hands wander to Marco's front as he does, and find his ribcage, pressing his fingers into the divots like he wants to leave his fingerprints all over him, be found at the scene of the crime, clearly flag the signs that he is mine.

“I’m going to take your boxers off, okay?”

“Mhh-hmm,” Marco hums.

Marc leans forward, blowing softly into Marco's ear. Marco shudders with a little whine.

“What was that for?”

“You need to use your words, baby.”

Marco shivers a little at his low tone, and Marc smiles, pressing his mouth to Marco's bare shoulder.

“Yes, please, I want you to.”

“Good boy,” Marc says, kissing the nape of his neck before sliding his fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling the boxers all the way off and throwing them to the floor.

He groans as he looks over every inch of Marco, in the position they’re in, Marco slowly pushing to his knees, pink flushed across his cheeks and chest. Marc places a hand reverently on his ass, pushing slightly to see his hole a little better. Marc’s own boxers are becoming uselessly damp and uncomfortable.

“Can I ask you something?” Marc says as he pulls his boxers off, flinging them away without a second thought.

“Yeah?”

“Did you wax for this?”

Marco groans and hides his face in the covers, and Marc gets both hands on his ass, pulling the cheeks apart to breathe over his hole. There’s not a hair on him.

“I get waxed sometimes, but…”

“You timed it, right?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

Marx laughs, and leans in to lick a stripe across Marco's asshole, and he shudders and whines in surprise.

“For the record, I’m happy however you come, okay? You don’t need to do all this for me.”

Marco raises his head, looking back at Marc. “Don’t you like it?”

“My baby, I don’t think I could ever dislike how you look,” Marc says, reaching around to grasp Marco's length in hand, stroking him slowly, spreading his leaking precome up and down his shaft. “You’re perfect, you’re so good. I love it, I just want you not to feel pressured to do anything special for me, okay? Next question is, do you have any lube? Condoms?”

“In there,” Marco gestures, and exhales when Marc releases him to reach over to the bedside table, opening the second drawer and grabbing the bottle. “Do we need… condoms…?”

Marc smiles slyly down at Marco, who doesn’t look back at him. “You don’t want one? I’m clean, I just got checked before we started dating.”

“I’m a virgin… and I got checked anyway, at my last health checkup. I don’t want a condom.”

Marc leans in to kiss him, and Marco tilts his head to meet it. “Okay. Whatever you want, baby.”

“Do you want me on my front like this?”

“You look like a picture right now, amor, unless you don’t like it.”

“I like it,” Marco says shyly, face half hidden behind his arm. “It’s just a bit embarrassing.”

“In a good way?” he asks, uncapping the bottle and getting back into position behind him, running his hands up Marco's thighs. “In the making you more horny way?”

“Yeah,” Marco admits, and Marc grins, and begins pouring lube directly onto his hole before putting some on his fingers too. Marco gasps at the cold contact, and pushes forwards a little as if the move away from it, and Marc steadies him with a hand on his hip.

“You’ve done this much before, right? Played with yourself?”

“Yes,” Marco says, a little whine. “But it’s different with someone else.”

“It is,” Marc agrees, pushing the lube in with his index finger, immediately greedy at the feel of Marco's heat, eager to get himself properly inside his boyfriend. “God, you’re doing amazing, darling, you’re so good for me. You’re gonna feel so good, I promise.”

“Put more in, please,” Marco groans into the sheets, and Marc complies without thinking twice, pushing a second finger inside him.

“You excited too? You want me inside you?”

Marco whines again, almost distressed, and Marc sees the way he’s got the sheets tightly in his fists, like even this is overwhelming for him. “Yes, yes I want you, please.”

“You’re still okay, baby? Want me to keep going?”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop now, amore…”

“I won’t, baby, just checking.” Marc kisses the small of his back as he pushes in a third finger, and Marco keens, back arching in response. Marc might drool the longer he has to watch this, dick throbbing, and not be inside the most gorgeous boy he’s ever seen. The slide is smooth now, even with three fingers, though Marco's hole keeps tightening around his fingers sporadically.

“Will you please—” Marco says, cutting himself off with a frustrated noise.

“What is it?” Marc asks, withdrawing his fingers and putting his hands to Marco's waist again. He pushes onto his knees and grips himself, to better align with Marco's hole. “What do you want, baby? Come on, tell me.”

“I want you, please. Please, inside me, Marc.”

He places the tip to Marco's rim, rubbing circles into his waist gently. “I want to, baby, but you’re going to have to ease up for me first. Can you do that? Take a breath in, then exhale.” He moves his hand to gently rub Marco's side, help him relax. "That’s it."

After watching him breathe in and out a few times, gently stroking and praising him, he slides inside with a low groan. Marco goes quiet too, panting as Marc bottoms out inside him.

“That okay?” he asks, though he’s starting to lose his train of thought, obsessed with the feeling, the encompassing heat of being inside Marco. “God, you feel amazing, so good. You’re so good for me.”

Marco takes a few seconds to breathe. “You too. You — it’s a lot, but — want more. I want you, please.”

“Yeah?” he kisses his back, over his shoulderblade, and shallowly, slowly pulls out, and pushes back in again. The sound is obscene, and the feeling is divine, and he kind of wants to be here forever. “You want me?”

“Please, I want you,” Marco says, and Marc finally releases him to place a hand over his on the bedsheets, their fingers entwining on the bed.

“I got you,” he says, and begins to thrust into him, enjoying each snap of his hips deep inside his boyfriend, every stroke against his walls, the feel of skin against skin and Marco whimpering under him.

He cries out at one particularly hard thrust, and that motivates Marc to go harder, despite his aching thighs and the sweat collecting between their bodies. He wants Marco to feel good, as much as his own pleasure — he does his best to bring a hand around and begin to jerk Marco off whilst maintaining his balance. He’s getting close embarrassingly quickly, though he has a suspicion Marco is nearly there too.

“Baby, I want to come in you. I’m gonna…”

“Please, yes please,” Marco says and it only takes a few more thrusts for Marc to shudder into an orgasm, groaning and biting into Marco's back lightly. Marco comes only seconds later into Marc’s hand, whimpering like a puppy, and Marc kisses his back once more, waiting for them both to catch their breaths before sliding out of him. He rolls Marco over to see his face, smiling widely, feeling so blissed out and tingly.

That smile is wiped away when he spots the tear tracks on Marco's face. “Oh God, baby, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no. It’s — it’s because I liked it so much. Promise, it was so good. Really.” Marco reaches up to pull Marc into his side, and Marc goes without complaint, burying his face into Marco's neck.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m so sure. You were amazing. You made me feel so good. Did I… was I okay?”

Marc pushes himself up to press a kiss to Marco's cheek, running a hand up and down his chest reassuringly. “You were so perfect. You’re so gorgeous, and you did so well. So good for me, Marco.”

Marc kisses him for a long moment, and when he pulls back, Marco's smile is so bright and wide that he knows nothing is wrong. They really are good tears. He hadn’t realised he’d been feeling so pressured to do well until right now — it was different, being the one with the upper hand. The last person he had dated seriously like this had been Valentino and to say he wasn't gentle when he took Marc's virginity was an understatement. Marc was convinced sex was only about the dominant ones pleasure, only about letting them cum then leave you naked and afraid. Marc never wanted Marco to feel as unwanted as he had that night.

He smiles too, Marco wrapping his arms around him, and Marc does the same. “Thank you, Marc.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Sex takes two — you did so good, really.”

“Really?”

Marc kisses him again. “You were so perfect, I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I feel so safe 'nd good, with you. You’re so good to me.” He hums, eyes falling closed

“You deserve it, angel. Never think otherwise.”

He runs a hand up his side to hold him close. Marco curls into him, and the two of them lie there, breathing slowing, naked and safe, comfortably pressed together.

#aka marc taking marco's virginity #and being a better boyfriend than vale was #kats motogp blurbs!#motogp #marcmarc #bezquez #marco bezzecchi #marc marquez #mb72 #mm93 #motogp rpf #rpf #sports rpf #ao3 #fanfic #smut #fluff #uh #yeah

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scrollonso · 20 days

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Untitled 2 — Marcmarc

Logically speaking, it doesn't make much sense. Marc is literally his boyfriend.

But there's still that nagging voice, that feeling in his stomach that has persisted since the time he was old enough to know about the pleasures that come with touching oneself. There's that desperate need for self preservation. There's still that guilt.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” Marco says, trying his best not to sound suspicious as he stands from the living room couch.

Marc playfully kicks at the back of Marco's shin as he passes in front of him. “Want me to pause it?” he asks.

Marco shakes his head. “Nah, I think that ice cream I had earlier is catching up to me. I might be gone for a while.”

Marc makes a funny face. “Gross.”

Marco forces a laugh before he's down the hall, locking himself in the bathroom.

Marc's has always been attractive, that's a fact that's completely undeniable. Marco isn't even usually a love-at-first-sight kind of guy, but he remembers the very moment he first laid eyes on Marc. Not to be dramatic, but the feeling could only be akin to staring directly at a sun parting gray clouds. Or maybe the feeling of finally surfacing from beneath an oppressive wave in the deep ocean. After dating for a year and a half, and now finally living together, one might think the shattering infatuation would eventually simmer down. But it's been quite the opposite if one were to ask Marco how he feels about the whole ordeal. If anything, the infatuation has become worse.

The guilt burns beneath his skin as he loosens the drawstring of his shorts, pushing the waistband down to his mid-thighs. He can still hear the muffled sounds of the corny action flick playing in the background. Good, Marco thinks, it'll serve as the perfect distraction.

Marco knows feeling horny is normal. It's taken a good amount of years to rewire his brain in terms of not feeling completely guilty about wanting to touch himself. But his history with the church obviously must still have some form of hold over him, because he still can't bring himself to tell Marc about when he gets this way. Or rather, all the times he gets this way. Which seems to be damn near every day at this point.

Being horny for your boyfriend when you live apart is one thing. But living under the same roof has Marco feeling like his skin is constantly on fire. All thoughts that consume his mind is just how badly he wants Marc's hands on him, everywhere, at all times of day. Is he becoming some sick sex addict? Or maybe it's his brain making up for all the years of being sexually stunted. Whatever the case, he just can't bring himself to tell Marc about every single time he has sexually depraved thoughts about the man. So he makes up for it like this, hiding in the bathroom to get himself off.

He bites the hem of his shirt to keep himself quiet as he slips two fingers inside. He's already so wet that he doesn't need to wait. It's quite pathetic, actually, the way this has become so easy for him.

He closes his eyes and imagines that it's Marc's fingers stretching him full. He imagines that it's Marc's thumb grazing his clit, driving him insane.

He moans quietly around the hem of his t-shirt, spit beginning to soak the fabric as he desperately rolls his hips to the image in his mind.

And on the other side of the bathroom door, just a few feet away is Marc, none the wiser, dressed in a simple pair of loose-fitting shorts and a white tank top. The outfit had been so unassuming, something completely normal to wear on a hot summer day. Yet here Marco is fingering himself in the guest bathroom of their shared apartment because he can't get his brain to stop thinking like a horny teenager.

He picks up the pace, adjusting his stance as he plunges his fingers into his drooling cunt. He pictures Marc fucking him from behind, he can almost feel Marc's hands gripping against his waist, and the tickle of Marc's stubble against the back of his neck.

He should probably just walk out of the bathroom and let Marc know he wants his dick right now. But how ridiculous would that sound?

“Hey, Marc. I know we're in the middle of watching cars explode and bad guys getting their heads blown off, but I'm really turned on right now. Let's fuck.”

No way, there has to be some level of decorum.

When he finally cums a few minutes later, the post-nut clarity is enough to humiliate him even without the haunting echoes of some past preacher going on about the sanctity of sex. Yikes.

It's gotten bad. It's gotten really bad. They're in the middle of having dinner with Marc's parents when the sudden need overcomes him again. It's ridiculous, really. Not a single thing about the situation is sexy in the slightest, but Marc's parents are going on about the antics Marc would get himself into when he was a teenager and suddenly Marco has this deep feeling of 'wow, this is the man I'm in love with and I'm learning about this part of him that existed before I knew him and I really want to keep him in my life and I really need him inside of me.'

That's the thought that has Marco awkwardly excusing himself to the bathroom, yet again.

He closes the door quickly, doubly making sure the door is locked behind him before he's fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

He doesn't even need to slide his fingers inside this time, that's how bothered he is. He coats his fingers good and well with saliva before rubbing against his clit in fast circular motions, mindful of the noises he makes.

If God hasn't judged him before, He's for sure judging him now. Your boyfriend's parents are down the hall and you can't keep yourself together for just one night?

He cums ridiculously fast to the point that it almost startles him, leaking over the palm of his hand and into the lining of his briefs. He can only laugh at himself when he struggles to quickly wipe the cum from the fabric of his clothes.

When he finally flushes the toilet paper and washes his hands as thoroughly as he can, he can only hope the timing of it all hadn't been too suspicious.

He should've anticipated this. Four months of living under the same roof, he was bound to eventually get caught.

The thing is, neither of them are really that fond of the kitchen. As much as it strains their wallets, eating out is usually the go-to. Especially when they're both exhausted from long days of work.

But for whatever reason, today Marc had wanted to pretend he was some gourmet chef cooking up the finest steak meal he could muster. And really, who was Marco to say no? It's not like he was any good in the kitchen.

He'd been watching Marc throw down from the bar of their kitchen counter, and there had just been something about the image of it all – the concentration set between Marc's brows, the flex of his arms under his black tee, the way his fingers moved with a sense of skill that Marco just never could gather when it came to cooking – it was all too much. Something primal pooled in Marc's stomach, a flame flickering beneath his skin. A sense of deep possession overcame him. My man, my man, he's really all mine.

But Marc was setting the plates after so much work that he'd put in. And Marco wasn't going to make this nasty. At least not in front of the man.

“I'll be right back,” Marc said.

Before Marc could ask where he's going, Marco was already down the hall, locking the bathroom door behind himself.

He really couldn't get his pants down fast enough. His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt, struggling to pull it free of the loop. When he finally managed to get his pants down to his ankles, he awkwardly stumbled out of them, nearly tripping as he kneeled down to reach beneath the cabinet sink in search of something secret he'd hidden there about a week ago.

He found it right where he'd stashed it, behind a basket of spare toilet paper and tucked between miscellaneous cleaners. It was packed in a small box, small enough to blend in with the bathroom supplies and go unnoticed by his boyfriend in the event that he'd ever go exploring for something beneath their guest bathroom sink.

The hidden item in question? A vibrator.

Yes, that's how ridiculous this has gotten. Like some sort of nicotine fiend who hides their pack of smokes behind a windowsill so as not to get caught by their parents, Marco is hiding his vibrator.

It's pretty unassuming, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand with a satisfactory, pink bulbous head. He rinsed it off quickly before putting it to his mouth to generously coat the thing with saliva.

When it was soaked well enough, he wasted no time bringing it to his pussy, spreading his legs and sliding the head of the vibrator between his slit. His cunt was already clenching, wetting itself from the contact of the vibrator, and Marco could only imagine it as Marc's cock that got him this way. He closed his eyes, breath growing deep and rapid as he worked to get himself off quickly, pushing the vibrator through his folds and teasing against his clit.

Heat coiled in his stomach. His thighs shook as he balanced himself, leaning back against the sink. When he finally pushed the vibrator inside, he pictured Marc sliding into him. He pictured Marc fucking him on the kitchen counter, not caring to knock over the delicious meal he'd just slaved away making. He pictured Marc kissing him hungrily, one fist tight in his hair and the other gripping Marco's thigh, holding him open and taking whatever he needed from Marco regardless of how prepared Marco was for the size of his cock.

Marco gasped, trying his best to stay quiet as he rolled his hips, plunging the vibrator into himself at a fast, even pace.

He felt himself getting so close already. So close to reaching the edge that he began to feel dizzy. He sunk down further, widening his legs even more. The angle allowed the toy to push into him further, not as deep as he knew Marc could get but deep enough to have Marco's stomach tightening in pleasure nonetheless.

“Marc,” he cried, head leaning back and knocking against the sink's cabinet door. He was far too lost to even care.

He pressed the vibrator all the way in, to the hilt. With his thumb, he found the switch to turn it on, setting it to a medium speed and holding it there, pressing it up at an angle that set his nerves on fire. With his free hand, he drew lazy circles against his clit, making his jaw drop in a silent moan.

This was it, he was really nearing his end now. He imagined Marc ruining him on the counter. He imagined Marc's thick fingers working over his clit, making Marco's cunt drool over the linoleum and pool onto the wood flooring beneath them.

“Like that?” Marc would ask, voice tight and strained with pleasure.

“Yes, yes... fuck. Right there, perfect. Right there!”

Marco's walls tightened, his head swam with pleasure. His thumb slides the vibrator up to high, and he's right there, right on the edge. So close. So, so close. And–

Presently, a loud thud bangs against the bathroom wall.

Marco's eyes shoot open to find the bathroom door wide open and Marc standing before him, eyes blown wide in shock. Marco yelps in embarrassment, almost crying as he quickly pulls his legs shut. The vibrator slips from his cunt, falling heavy to the bathroom floor and tumbling across the dark wood towards Marc's feet.

“Marc!” The fear has Marco speaking before his brain can catch up to what's happening.

He'd been caught. How could he have forgotten to lock the bathroom door? That was so damn stupid.

“Shit, sorry,” Marc stutters. He steps back awkwardly. “I thought– I heard you making noises. Sorry, I thought you were hurt in here or…”

Marco stands up fully on shaking legs, trying to step back into his pants. Slick is dribbling down his inner thighs but he feels far too humiliated to do anything about how uncomfortable it feels. The vibrator is still buzzing at Marc's feet. Marc's face looks pale.

So this is how it ends, huh? Marc finding out that his boyfriend has become nothing but a sex addict who can't keep himself in check long enough to even have a simple dinner? God had warned about lust, the potential ruin it could have on people's lives. Marco had tried to put that all behind himself, but maybe he was finally facing his damnation.

“I'm sorry,” Marco cries.

He makes for the door, ready to run off and hide himself in their bedroom because, really, he doesn't think he can face this right now. But before he can get past Marc's position outside the bathroom door, Marc's hand is grabbing him and holding him in place.

“Woah, hold up,” Marc says.

And thankfully, he doesn't sound angry. Despite the wave of prickly heat beneath Marco's skin, he can at least feel okay that Marc doesn't seem upset. But is the look of confusion he holds on his face completely better?

“What's this all about?” Marc asks. He picks the vibe off the floor. Marco cringes internally as the thing keeps buzzing resiliently, covered in the sheen of his slick.

“I'm–” Truthfully, Marco isn't even sure what to say.

“Your cooking made me horny,” didn't exactly sound like a reasonable answer.

“I didn't know you were into toys. Were you hiding this from me? I wouldn't judge, you know?”

Oh, that's what he thinks this is about? Hiding toys?

To be fair, Marc has never used toys with him in the bedroom before. Most of their sex has been pretty vanilla, and really it's never bothered Marco. Quite the opposite, even. Marc has always made him feel good. And that's the issue. Maybe it's all too good. Too good to the point that all his body craves is sex. It was almost terrifying when Marco finally ordered that vibrator online after having it sit in his cart for weeks debating on buying it. And the fact that he'd had the package delivered to his personal P.O. Box instead of letting it show up at their apartment's doorstep? It's gotta be considered some level of deranged at this point.

Marco stammers, “No, it's not the toy… it's me.”

He takes the vibrator from Marc's hand, wondering if maybe he should just throw the thing away.

“What do you mean?” Marc asks. “Are you okay?”

Marco is silent as he turns back to the bathroom sink. The vibrator's box is sitting on the counter, open and mocking. Marco fumbles to put the toy back inside.

“Marco, what's going on?”

Marc places a hand over Marco's. It stays there, and Marco isn't sure if he should run or stay still until Marc lets him go.

“Talk to me,” Marc says, voice soothing. “If somethings wrong, let me help you. I'm just kind of lost here.”

“I'm really sorry,” Marco apologizes yet again, to Marc, to himself. The whole situation makes Marco feel dizzy and off kilter.

Marc looks at him, eyes softening. He slides the box from Marco's grip, placing it gently on the bathroom counter. He takes a step closer to Marco, still holding his hand.

“What are you saying sorry for?” Marc asks. “Seriously, what's going on?”

Marco takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. If this is going to be his demise, he may as well get it over with now. "I... I can't stop thinking about you. About us. All the time.” Marco sinks down to the floor, legs nearly giving out from the anxiety of it all.

“What do you mean?” Marc lowers after him.

“I don't know, it's like I'm constantly on fire, and I feel so guilty about it. I guess I grew up being told that these feelings were wrong, and now... living with you... constantly feeling turned on, it's overwhelming."

Marc's expression softens even more as he listens. “You're saying you feel guilty about sex?” He asks.

Marco rakes a nervous hand through his sweaty curls, feeling frustrated at how ridiculous it sounds to hear himself say all of this out loud.

“Yes… and no. Not exactly about sex. I guess, the constant need for it? Like, it just feels wrong,” he tries to explain, but even he feels like it makes very little sense.

Marc pulls Marco into a gentle hug, holding him close. "Marco, it's okay to want to have sex. We're together, I think it's natural to have feelings like that. I mean, trust me,” Marc laughs. “I think about having sex with you too. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you. And I don't want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. Ever."

Marco leans against Marc's shoulder, feeling the weight of his guilt start to lift, slightly.

"Sorry,” Marco mutters. “I guess I'm just scared you'll think I'm some kind of sex addict or... or that you'll get tired of me."

Marc pulls back slightly, just enough to look into Marco's eyes. "I love you, Marco. All of you. I promise if there's anything that's upsetting you, I want to work through it together. And I hope you'd want the same for me too, right? We shouldn't hide things like this from each other.”

Marco stays silent for a moment, taking in what Marc has to say. It should be that simple. Maybe he's overthinking it. If Marc had come to him with a “Hey, Marco, I constantly think about you when I jack off,” Marco knows wouldn't have judged Marc for it, so why is it so hard to give himself the same level of grace?

He lets out a shuddered breath, trying to get the tightness in his chest to go away completely. With Marc's hand in his, it helps.

“Thank you, Marc. I love you too.”

“Of course.” Marco slightly nudges Marco's rib with his elbow, his face easing into a smile. “I mean, how could you resist someone as cool and sexy as me?”

Marco laughs, pulling his hand from Marc'd to playfully swat at him. “Shut up,” he says, not an ounce of malice in his voice.

Marc pulls him closer again, kissing his cheek before standing, holding out a hand to help Marco up off the bathroom floor. “I guess the dinner I made is going to have to go cold for a while,” he says.

He grabs the vibrator box from the counter, turning the thing in his hand as looks over the label.

“What do you mean?” Marco asks.

Marc looks at him with a mischievous grin. “Well, aren't you interested in finishing up what you started here?”

Oh!

It takes Marc's fingers only a few strokes to get Marco ready again. And Marco, who's still grossly wet from previous endeavors, has very little time to feel embarrassed about it before Marc's tongue is already where he needs it most.

“Oh my god,” Marco gasps, head lolling back against the pillow beneath him.

His hand finds the crown of Marc's head, gripping tight in his hair to ground himself as he angles his hips upwards. His breath goes shaky as Marc's tongue teases at his entrance, dipping in only slightly, enough to have Marco's hole drooling in anticipation.

“Please,” Marco begs.

Marc squeezes his clit gently, catching it again and again as Marco's body trembles with oversensitivity. When Marc's tongue slides up to warm his clit, Marco's body is reacting all on its own, fist clenching in Marc's hair and knee jerking up against his side. Marc groans into his cunt, using one hand to push Marco's leg aside and hold him open at full display.

“Sorry,” Marco breathes.

Marc hums in return, the heat of his breath melting Marco to his core. It's moments like this when Marco really feels insane, letting go of all his convictions and letting Marc take control of his body. It's nice to let his mind slip, muddled in a fog of pleasure. It makes him feel hot all over and wonderfully weightless.

“Feels good,” Marco says, shutting his eyes.

Marc's lips wrap around his clit, sucking softly and kissing against it, longingly and desperately like it's his long-lost lover. It brings tears to Marco's eyes. He feels them rolling down his cheeks, but he's too lost in how good it all feels to wipe them away.

Marco loses the ability to control his moans completely when Marc's fingers push inside. He works them expertly, sliding them with a satisfying ease from Marco's wetness. The vibrator had felt great, but this feeling is unmatched. The way Marc eats him is akin to devout worship. Marvo can feel him in a way that a toy couldn't replicate, fingers crooked in at just the right angle, exactly where Marco needs them to be.

Marco bites his lip, trying to control himself not to come too quickly, but he doesn't really have to because Marc knows him all too well. As Marco nearly reaches his climax, Marc's tongue slightly pulls away, lapping against Marco's clit at a slower pace. Unhurriedly, like he has all the time in the world.

Marco finally swallows the spit that had built up, opening his eyes to protest, meeting Marc's heated gaze from between his thighs.

“Don't tease me,” Marco begs.

Marc fully pulls away with a grin. “Oh, don't like that?”

“Not when I'm so close.”

Marc licks his lips before moving up to sit on his knees. From this angle, Marco can see just how hard Marc is. The full mast of his cock standing at attention making Marco's cunt throbs at the image.

“Marc, I really need you inside,” Marco says.

Possession overcomes him again, that same feeling he had watching Marc cook for him in the kitchen earlier. He pulls Marc into a kiss, uncoordinated and full of teeth. Marc moans into his mouth, gripping Marco's waist to pull him down and flip them over.

Marco renegotiates himself, pushing his legs up to straddle Marc's waist as their mouths move together hungrily. Marco doesn't even care that he can hardly breathe.

Marc's cock slides against Marco's ass, streaking his skin in wet, sticky precum. He wiggles his hips, pushing his ass against Marc's stiffness, finding satisfaction in the way Marc seems to be losing it too, his breath becoming more labored, mouth falling open and saliva spilling down his chin.

“Now you're the one teasing me,” Marc murmurs.

Marco smiles against Marc's lips, but doesn't break their sloppy kiss.

Marc's hands slide down his sides. He grips Marco's ass, kneading harshly into the meat of it, holding Marco in place as he adjusts his hips. His cock slides between Marco's cheeks as he cants his hips upwards, in long fluid strokes. Then he's lifting Marco up higher before settling him down over his cock slowly, pushing himself up to breach Marco's hole.

The fit of it has Marco groaning, drooling over Marc's lips.

“Fuck, you're not wearing a condom,” Marco notes, but doesn't make a move to stop anything from going forward.

Marc forces Marco down to the base, where they finally become fully connected. They both pant in unison, unmoving. Giving themselves a moment to adjust to their new position.

Marco sits up, balancing himself by placing his hands on Marc's chest. Marc's cheeks are flushed red and he has this misty, half-lidded gaze that's got Marco feeling butterflies deep in his stomach. Along with Marc's dick.

“You're so beautiful,” Marco says.

Marc's lips ease into a grin and he laughs, reaching up to cup Marco's face. “You're one to talk, sweet boy,” he says, low and breathless.

Marco pulls Marc's hand away from his cheek to kiss the inside of his palm.

“I love you,” Marco says.

“C'mere.”

Marc pulls him down to bring their lips together again, and this time it's less rushed. A soft peck leading into a nice, languid kiss. Marc's hand slides up to the nape of Marco's neck, guiding Marco deeper into the kiss. It makes Marco's thoughts slow. Marc hums softly when Marco nibbles at his lower lip.

Slowly, Marco begins rocking himself in Marc's lap, rolling his hips and lightly lifting himself on Marc's cock. He feels so full this way, he almost wishes Marc could stay inside of him like this forever.

Marc grips Marco's waist with both hands to help him balance, allowing Marco to take what he wants.

Marco sits up, leaning his head back to give himself more leverage to fully move his hips. He rises higher, beginning to ease into a faster pace. And Marc watches him ride, eyes soft with affection.

Heat coils in Marco's lower abdomen, and he feels his cunt tighten around Marc's cock inside of him. The heat spreads over him, then through his limbs. It's like his body is melting all at once.

“Ah– ahh,” Marco moans, bringing his fingers to his clit as he rocks himself in Marc's lap.

“That's it, baby,” Marc says. His hand slides up to thumb against Marco's pierced nipple, rolling the bud and metal beneath his fingertip. “Keep going like that. You feel so good.”

The speed increases, the wet between them becomes disgustingly loud. The room becomes hot with the labor of their panting bodies, moving in tandem, skin slapping against skin.

“God, I'm so close,” Marco gasps, closing his eyes and massaging his clit faster.

“Cum for me. You're so pretty, baby. Make yourself cum on my cock,” Marc says, voice sending a pleasant wave of heat though Marco's tired muscles.

The heat makes Marco's cunt tighten then relax as a wave of intense, white pleasure washes through him. He chokes through a sob on his release, thighs trembling and nearly giving out.

“Marc, Fuck,” he cries, body going rigid as he finally cums.

Marc fucks into him, fast, chasing his own orgasm soon after. The heat of Marc's cum fills him and it's the first time in a long while that he and Marc have fucked without a condom. The feeling of being coated on the inside with Marc's fluids makes Marco feel wonderfully euphoric. He sighs happily, riding out the rest of Marc's orgasm before he falls forward against Marc's chest. He buries his face against Marco's neck, kissing there and rolling his hips lazily to milk Marc's cock for all he can.

After a while, Marc's moans turn into overstimulated grunts.

“Fuck, that's enough, baby” Marc breathes, rolling them over and letting his cock slide from Marco's hole.

He feels Marc's cum spilling between his legs, soaking the sheets beneath them. It's not exactly comfortable, but Marc's lips are on his again and that's enough of a distraction.

Their kissing goes on and on until Marco is genuinely feeling lightheaded, like he just might pass out. He pulls away with an airy laugh, cupping Marc's cheek to look at him.

Marc looks just as fucked out as Marco feels, but he too has a smile on his face.

“What's so funny?” Marc asks.

“Nothing,” Marco says. “I just remembered our food is going cold.”

27 notes · View notes

scrollonso · 23 days

Text

Ride, Cowboy — Marcmarc

Pecco's bachelor party was in full swing, and the academy boys were set on making it a night to remember. They had chosen a popular country-themed bar for the occasion, its rustic decor and vibrant atmosphere setting the perfect stage for one final evening of freedom. The bar was adorned with wooden tables, vintage signs, and checkered tablecloths. A live band played upbeat country music, their melodies mixing with the hum of conversations and clinking glasses. The centerpiece of the night was the mechanical bull, positioned prominently in the center of the room, promising both challenge and entertainment.

Pecco, dressed in casual attire that subtly hinted at his upcoming marriage, was surrounded by his closest friends — Vale, Marco, Luca, Franky, Cele, and Mig. The guys were in high spirits, their laughter filling the room as they enjoyed shots and swapped stories. Racing was momentarily forgotten as they indulged in playful banter and reminisced about past adventures. Even Pecco, who usually preferred a more low-key presence in such settings, was swept up in the energy of the night.

As they navigated through the crowd, the music shifted to a heavier beat, drawing their attention to the mechanical bull as the lights dimmed. A group of incredibly attractive girls had taken over the area, each one more stunning than the last. They were taking turns on the bull, their laughter and cheers creating an infectious buzz throughout the bar. The guys couldn’t help but watch, half-impressed, half-entertained by the scene.

“Dio mio,” Luca muttered, his eyes widening in admiration. “They’re amazing!”

Vale, ever the responsible older brother, gave Luca a playful slap on the back of the head. “You’re married, Luca! Keep your eyes where they belong.”

Luca quickly apologized, his face reddening as he assured his brother he was just appreciating the spectacle.

Marco, grinning, elbowed Pecco. “You sure you’re ready to settle down? Because it looks like we’ve got some serious competition here.”

Pecco chuckled, shaking his head. “No way, man. Domi’s the only girl for me. But... I can appreciate the view.”

The group erupted in laughter as one of the girls — a tall blonde with a dazzling smile — took her turn on the bull. She managed to stay on longer than anyone else, her skill and confidence drawing cheers from the crowd. The boys exchanged glances, silently daring each other to give it a try.

“Alright, Pecco,” Franky said, nudging him toward the bull. “Last night of freedom — let’s see what you’ve got!”

“Yeah, show us how a pro rider handles a bull,” Cele added with a smirk.

Pecco raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing as he shook his head. “I’m not getting thrown off that thing tonight. But if you guys want to make fools of yourselves, be my guest!”

And then he took the stage.

Stole the show.

And then this absolutely gorgeous man jumped into the ring and easily swung himself up on the bull. Marco couldn’t see a whole lot of details from this far, but what he could see definitely woke the beast in him.

The man was fit, legs deliciously bowed as if he was made to ride a bull or a horse. The man was a cowboy, and Marco's childhood fantasies of the cowboys in old western movies came flooding back.

The man gripped the handle on the bull with his left hand, muscles bulging enough for even Marco to see. He pressed his heels against the sides of the bull, scooting forward in the saddle, and held up his right hand, arm in the shape of an L. He took a deep breath, sagged down in the saddle as he breathed out, and nodded to the person operating the bull for the group.

And rode for an astonishing 12.72 seconds. It had to be a sign.

His movements were completely fluid, he was one with the bull, there was no doubt about it and Marco found himself completely entranced. He couldn’t honestly say that his jaw didn’t drop because he could focus on nothing but this Adonis of a man riding the shit out of that bull, his movements flawless.

Marco had no idea what the group was speaking about anymore, all he knew was he wanted to be that bull. He needed to be that bull. His whole body flushed hot, his dick taking an abnormal amount of interest in the whole thing, and his brain demanding that he march down there and claim the man.

He rode the whole time with a cocky grin on his lips, eyes trained on the back of the bull’s head, and just as the clock signaled twelve seconds, the man changed his body position and tumbled gracefully off the bull in the next moment, seemingly by his own choice, rather than being flung off like all the others had been.

Marco was on his way over to the man before he had even made a conscious decision about it, his scotch abandoned precariously on the table he'd reserved for the party.

He slowed his steps as he was closing in on the crowd around the mechanical bull, pacing himself as if approaching a business proposal. Hell, he didn’t even know if the man was interested in sleeping with men and Marco recognized how it could be a sensitive topic, so he wanted to approach this in a suitable fashion. But on the other hand, he had never been this aroused from just watching someone before. He could only hope it wasn’t noticeable, on his face or otherwise.

The group of people had grown since Marco first started watching them, and even though they all congratulated the man on his excellent time, it was clear that most of them were strangers. There was a small group that seemed to be the man’s friends, though, and Marco came upon them just as the man was walking over, grinning widely.

How unfair, Marco thought, that the man was so stunning and not his.

“That was great, Marc,” a young man with long, brown hair was saying just as Marco walked up to them, clapping the man on his shoulder.

Marc. What an appropriate name, Spanish from the sound of the groups accents. What a good cowboy name.

“Not my best,” the man — Marc — answered in a tone that suggested he was trying to be modest. “But definitely best so far tonight.”

So he was competitive, this Marc. Marco liked that in a man. Liked it even more when competitive men bent over for him, not because they thought they had to but because they desperately wanted to. Oh, just the thought of having Marc turn into putty in Marco's hands made him hot all over again.

Also, competitiveness was one of the most easily manipulated personality traits, in Marco's experience.

“So good,” he said in a strong, dominant voice, “that you won’t be able to repeat it.”

Marc's whole entourage turned to Marco, collectively giving him a once over, and he straightened, not the least frightened. Just to be certain Marc would rise to the bait, Marco lifted his chin high, looking down his nose at Marc and, as predicted, that made Marc's hackles rise.

“Excuse me?”

Marc had a very pleasant voice. A low, threatening baritone that made Marco vibrate much more pleasantly than that godforsaken bass.

Marco shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just saying, if you’re as good as you seem to think, you should be able to repeat your performance.”

Marc snorted, turning fully to Marco, without a doubt the head of his group, shoulders squared and cocky grin back.

“Twelve seconds is nothing, man. That was just warm-up.”

By the look the older man with the wavy hair threw Marc, Marco suspected that twelve seconds was actually a rather good time and one that might be hard for Marc to beat. And Marco wanted Marc to win. Wanted him cocky and sure of himself as he submitted to Marco's touches.

“It was pure luck,” he challenged in a haughty tone, enjoying the twinkle in Marc's eyes.

“And who are you to say that?” a bigger man behind Marc asked in a gruff voice, the same man that congratulated him earlier. “Some kind of expert, are you?”

Marco spared the man a glance. Twinky, but a decent face. Marc sure knew how to pick handsome friends Marco would give him that. But they all paled in the face of Marc's appearance.

“Oh, I’m certain I would fall on my face if I ever tried,” Marco answered in a calm voice, smiling to himself when him admitting that made the man’s face fall. Marc, however, looked at Marco with sudden interest. “I was merely proposing a bet, since you impressed me and seem so sure of your own abilities,” he directed the last words to Marc, who drew himself up.

“Bull riding isn’t a joke.”

“So, you’re afraid?” Marco enjoyed seeing Marc flounder. “Well maybe it’s for the best. You must be tired; I doubt you would even last five seconds now.”

“Five seconds?” Marc spluttered, some of his group laughing, though it was unsure whether they were amused by the situation or Marc's suddenly squeaky voice. Marc walked into Marco's personal space and puffed out his chest. He smelled incredible. “I’ll last much more than that on any day.”

His low growl made Marco's whole body tingle. “Is that so?” he murmured, letting his eyes roam Marc's face and body. Marc definitely noticed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Marc grunted and Marco's eyes snapped up to Marc's, captivated by their beauty for a moment.

“I would, actually,” he easily admitted, voice low and inviting. “I would like to know that very much.”

Time seemed to stall for a moment, each caught in the other’s gaze, and Marco felt a thrill go through him. This was interesting, this was worth his time. Much more so than snorting tequila and salt from a random woman’s slick body or dancing poorly on rickety tables. Marco felt more alive in this moment than he had in years.

“Five seconds isn’t even a challenge,” the larger man said, interrupting them.

Marc seemed to shake himself.

“Eight, then,” Marco said with a confident smirk. “I bet you fifty euro you won’t last another eight seconds.”

“Fifty euro,” Marc muttered, eyeing Marco's clothes for the first time and seemingly only now realizing it wasn’t a cheap knock-off. “You better be able to fork that up, mate.”

“Don’t you worry about that, cowboy,” Marco winked and watched with satisfaction how Marc's pupils dilated slightly.

He muttered something that sounded like “whatever” and turned to go back to the bull. It had been busy in the background, flinging people off it left and right, and the crowd around it had grown even more but Marco easily found an empty seat where he could comfortably watch from afar.

Marc was talking to his friends, some of them throwing Marco looks, but Marc seemed determined to do this. Marco hoped they weren’t trying to talk him out of it because they thought he would hurt himself, Marco would be devastated if he inadvertently caused Marc harm. Most likely they were talking about the money, though, on the off-chance that Marc lost the bet. Marco really hoped that wouldn’t happen. No this was a battle he was willing to lose, to win the war, so to speak.

When it was finally Marc's turn to mount the bull again Marco was buzzing with anticipation, although he concealed it well enough. He saw Marc's friends tossing him glances from where they were standing, up by the ring, but he paid them no heed. He was perfectly comfortable back here, where he could pull one leg up and rest the ankle against his other knee, to hide inappropriate body reactions.

Because Marc was of course just as splendid the other time around. Time seemed to flow in slow-motion as Marc expertly rode the bull. He was either a natural or he had done this a lot, Marco easily concluded. Maybe he had even ridden real bulls? Now there was a thought.

A thick, muscular, frothing animal bucking as Marc worked every muscle in his glorious body just to stay on.

Marco grabbed his ankle and pulled on his leg a little, his dick swelling to ridiculous proportions just imagining Marc working the animal. Marc's face and body told of experience and Marco watched with hooded eyes as Marc frowned down at the fake bull, concentration wearing on his handsome face.

Would he look as concentrated when he rode Marco? Most likely not, not if Marco had any say in what went on. No, if he — when he was in charge, Marc would be completely relaxed, face slack as pleasure crested inside him.

Marco let out a shaky breath. He needed to calm down or Marc would be more disgusted than intrigued and Marco didn’t want that at all. Suddenly he felt as if he would suffocate if Marc looked at him with hatred and he was momentarily stunned by his own feelings. What did he care, really, what Marc thought of him? Marc was essentially a nobody, a stranger whose station was so below Marco it wasn’t even funny.

Except, when he watched Marc ride that bull, all of that seemed inconsequential. They were just two men in that moment, and Marco desired to stay like that almost as much as he desired Marc, as much as he coveted the man’s pleasure.

The ride ended somewhat more abruptly this time, compared to when last Marc rode. It still looked as if Marc had been in control of when to end it but as if he had been a bit more tired this time around and his tumble off the bull was less graceful and it took him a moment longer to get up off the padded area around the bull.

The long-haired man helped Marc off the stage and Marco stood up just as Marc walked over to him on adorably wobbly legs. A quick glance to the digital clock revealed an astounding 9.57 and Marco made sure to show appropriate surprise and awe, instead of the actual relief and arousal he actually felt.

“There,” Marc said, hands on his hips and voice delectably breathless. “Piece of cake.”

“So I see,” Marco said smugly and walked over to Marc, much too close even for acquaintances. “I’m man enough to own up to my loss,” he said with a smile and pulled out his wallet to fish out a fifty, one among many, though he didn’t show Marc that, not interested in catching the man that way.

“I hope there’s no hard feelings?” Marc said as he accepted the bill, their fingers brushing.

Marc's hand was shaking slightly, no doubt from exertion, and Marco was happy he had lowered the time for the bet so as not to force Marc to match his old time.

“None at all,” Marco said with an intimate smile, leaning in and speaking in a lower tone. “You should know, I’m also man enough to admit that I only wanted to see you ride that bull again.”

That made Marc's eyes flick down to Marco's mouth and up again. Marco enjoyed the fact that Marc actually was a bit shorter than him, if only an inch, and definitely smaller.

There was a beat of silence and then, “Are you sure you’re only interested in seeing me ride bulls?”

A pleasurable wave so forceful it almost choked him washed over Marco and he swallowed once to be sure his voice was under control.

“I can imagine you’re apt at riding all sorts of things.”

Marc shifted from foot to foot. Marco's blood rushed in his ears, drowning out every sound except Marc's.

“You content with imagining it or do you want a demonstration?”

Marco arched an eyebrow, enjoying Marc's challenging tone and squared jaw, but not as much as Marc's reaction to the look Marco gave him. There was clear arousal in Marc's eyes now and Marco reveled in it.

“I have a car outside and an apartment not far from here.”

Marc flashed him that wonderfully cocky grin of his. “Deal.”

Marco took a moment to check his phone when Marc turned to talk to his friends. A quick message ensured that his friends knew he was leaving and not to wait up. Marco smiled to himself as he heard Marc explain that he would “take a hike”.

“Marc, are you sure that’s—”

“Gotta live a little, Alex,” Marc said happily and slapped the man on his back before walking over to Marco. “Good to go?”

“If you are?” Marco said but started walking through the crowd around them without waiting for a reply. Marc easily kept up with his pace, as Marco had suspected he would.

“Don’t mind Alex, he’s just being an overprotective little brother.”

Marco nodded, not having much experience with that but understanding it anyway. “Maybe he’s right to worry a little, considering the things I have in mind for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Marc smirked just as they exited the club, the fresh summer air a blessing compared to the scorching heat of the club. Marco breathed a deep sigh of relief. “What are you planning anyway? You seem pretty vanilla to me.”

Marco smiled at the playful insult. “And yet you came with me.”

“Hey,” Marc said, voice suddenly low and seductive. “You’re like the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, I don’t care what you wanna do, I’m in.”

Not that Marco was really planning anything more outrageous than rimming Marc until the man cried from the need to have Marco's hard dick inside him, but it was good to know Marc felt inclined to trust him.

“You know my name, but I don’t even know yours,” Marc murmured as they settled into the Italians car, eyes on his lips. “I’m kinda stupid for even getting in this thing with you, huh?”

“My name is Marco Bezzecchi,” Marco said, other hand brushing down Marc's front, catching on the edge of the man’s jeans. “And please don’t call yourself stupid.”

Marc shifted so that they were sitting almost facing each other, Marc's hands working on opening Marco's jacket as he drove.

“That's too long for me to scream when I come,” he said, voice making Marco's body vibrate with desire. “I’m gonna call you Bez.”

“Please do,” Marco answered, voice equally hushed, and nosed closer so that Marc turned his head just as their hands found each other’s hard-ons. “My friends do.”

Marc moaned into their first kiss, low and sweet and all for Marco as the car parked. He swallowed it greedily, pressing closer as Marc pressed the heel of his hand against Marco's dick. Their lips slid together, noses bumping, but Marco was too wound up to keep to sweet kisses for long. Marc seemed just as eager in the way he opened up when Marco licked his lips and Marco pushed in deep, owned Marc in that one gesture and felt a chilled heat pool in his groin.

Marc, for all his physical strength, sagged against Marco, moaning into the kisses and pawing at Marco's dick. Marco's plan was simple in this moment: get Marc hot and bothered so that he would be pliant and willing by the time they got inside.

Too bad his own pleasure was spiking almost dangerously already.

“Fuck you’re good at kissing,” Marc groaned when they pulled apart. “I’m so hard already, god damn.”

“I got hard from watching you ride the bull,” Marco was surprised by his own sincerity but Marc seemed only pleased.

“I could feel your eyes on me the second time,” he murmured. “I liked it.”

Fuck it, Marco would just have to come up with a way for them to get hot and hard again when they arrived. He needed Marc too much right in this moment to show any kind of restraint.

With one tug and a push, he had flipped them so that they were in the back with Marc on his back, Marco comfortable between the man’s strong legs. Legs that had hugged that bull like they wanted to crush it were now around him. Marco's dick jumped in his dress pants and Marc no doubt noticed.

“You like me watching you?” he asked, voice a low rumble and Marc parted his lips, nodding and looking up at Marco with big eyes. “Do you want me to see you in your pleasure, Marc?”

“Fuck,” Marc pressed out, one hand grabbing Marco's arm and the other digging between them to start opening his jeans. “I can’t wait, Bez.”

“You don’t think you’ll make it, is that it?” he asked, rising to help Marc get their dicks out. “Do you want to let some out now?”

“I’m riding you tonight,” Marc shot back, eyes glinting and Marco shuddered with pleasure.

“I’ll remember that, little cowboy.”

Marc opened his mouth to no doubt banter back but instead a deep groan forced itself out when Marco pressed their hard dicks together for the first time. Marco's whole body sagged with pleasure and he pressed his knees harder against the seat, sitting up a little and putting one hand on the back of the seat for support as he took their dicks in his other hand, squeezing them.

Marc arched his back, gasping and grabbing the seat under him as his body shuddered. His dick jumped in Marco's grip, pressing against Marco's and there was really no stopping him now. Yes, he wanted to wait, and no, they didn’t even have lube, but the desire was choking him, and Marc was making all the right sounds as Marco started jacking them. Marc was apparently one of those guys who had a lot of precome because Marco's hand got sticky fast enough to replace the need for lube.

“I’ll take such good care of you,” Marco huffed out, breathless now as the pleasure burned white-hot inside him. “Rim you, prep you, fuck you.”

Marc moaned, legs flexing around Marco. “I’m gonna ride you until you cry,” he pressed out through gritted teeth and Marco felt an unexpected surge of arousal at the challenge. “Gonna ruin you for all other asses.”

Oh sweet Lord, Marco was going to come soon. He had never been this attracted to someone, the way Marc challenged him even while submitting was blowing Marco's mind.

“You’ll never want another dick,” he managed to quip, words clipped, and sped up his hand.

They rocked together in the dim light of the car, the world outside forgotten as they came together, hands grabbing each other and dicks aching, yearning to release. Marco's balls had pulled up, so prepared to shoot all over Marc, and Marc's dick was leaking a continuous stream of precome that Marco craved to taste.

His spine burned with his arousal and he panted hotly, leaning down over Marc again, one hand on the seat beside Marc's head as Marc grabbed his body to pull him even closer.

“I’m gonna fucking come,” Marc grunted, pushing away Marco's hand and wrapping his legs around Marco's hips, bucking up. “Kiss me.”

Marco readily indulged Marc, hips working to grind their hard dicks together and though it was rough with their clothes and zippers in the way, it was the most glorious Marco had ever felt. Marc kissed him as if he were a man parched and Marco cradled Marc's head, one hand on Marc's hip, encouraging his movements.

True to his word, Marc came only moments later, body locking up and a shaky moan escaping his parted lips. Wetness spread between them but far from being tacky, it only spurred Marco on and he came too, a handful of thrusts later.

“Well, that was something,” Marc panted after a moment.

Marco blinked and did his best to pull back but his head was swimming a bit. “It wasn’t what I had planned,” he admitted and couldn’t help but grin down at the mess they had made. It was all over their clothes. Marc of course looked ravishing covered in Marco's come. “But then, the night is young.”

“Definitely,” Marc grinned up at him, cocky as ever. “You aren't getting out of that ride.”

Marco felt a renewed wave of arousal just as the overhead light flashed around them. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” he smirked, thinking that for all its faults, the night couldn’t have turned out better in the end.

Marco walked them up to an apartment and then knocked on the door, he turned to Marc and smiled.

“Do you live with someone?” Marc asked, suddenly feeling like maybe this wasn’t the ideal plan.

Marco snickered, taking out a large ring of keys and trinkets from his jacket. He put the key in the lock and then turned to Marc before turning the key.

“No, I’m just scared of walking in on someone robbing my apartment so I knock to make sure they’re gone by the time I go in.”

Marc took a step back, “Are you serious?”

“Nope,” Marco said, opening the door and gesturing for Marc to enter. “It’s just a habit.”

The corners of Marc’s mouth turned up a little, amused, he poked Marco in the ribs as he walked past to show his mild annoyance with the bad joke. Marc chuckled, and then walked past Marco, letting the door stay wide open for some reason.

Marc's first impression of Marco's apartment was that it was well lived in, a loved space. Wherever he looked, there were pieces of personality shining through. It felt memorable, interesting. Full of care.

Marco stood still by the door, closing it behind himself. He took in the warm colors and the decorative knick-knacks that he could see all over. Potted plants kept high and low, posters and art in many styles and varying ages.

"Nice place. Have you lived there long?" Marc asked, pushing his hands down in his pockets just to have something to do with them. The space felt perfect, and Marco felt more perfect each second he spent with him.

"A few years," Marco turned to Marc, scratching his neck, and looked over this own space like he hadn't done that in a while. "It's too much, I know, but-"

"No, no. It's perfect." Marc felt the blush come alive again. "I like it."

Marco looked at him with some sort of surprise, nodding. He looked around again and then back at Marc. The looks changed almost immediately.

He moved closer, a few steps to his side as he placed his hand on Marc's side. His fingers kneading down into the muscle there. Marco cornered him, making him back up until he was pinned to the wall. The pressure made Marc's breath catch in his throat. Marco's grip was light, fingers pressed down. And that was all that was holding him in place.

"Hey," Marco said. He looked good like this, Marc thought. Standing over Marc. The light fixture above them made it look like Marco was wearing a halo.

"Hi," Marc answered, breathy and low. He had to lean his head back to the wall to get a good look at Marco when they stood this close. The closeness also made him in perfect view of the movement of the muscles in Marco's neck and jaw. Constantly moving, like Marco had tension built up that just couldn't escape.

Marco moved his hands, placing them at the back of Marc's head. The moment felt like it could last forever.

He pulled Marco's head down toward himself. Their noses touched for a second before their lips finally made contact.

Marc sighed into it. The softness in which Marc stilled at that let Marco take the lead even further. Marco tasted sour, Marc needed more. The sensation of moving muscles under his hand and a grin against his lips filled Marco's mind with sparks. He quickly wanted more of all of it.

With a light bite, he asked Marc for more. The question was answered by Marc opening his mouth and meeting him halfway, tongues brushing carefully together as Marco pulled Marc even closer, pushing both arms over Marc's shoulders to minimize the room between them.

Marco had gone home with people before. The men had all just been distractions. Something to pass the time and release the stress of his day-to-day life.

Kissing Marc, touching him, felt like something was coming into shape. Like the mass under his hands was clay ready to be molded into something. It felt different, and it made him feel desperate.

"Bedroom?" Marc asked,

"Yeah…"

"No, where is your bedroom?"

"Oh, it's right there-"

Marc took Marco by then hand and pulled Marco after himself, turning when he got close to the door and pulling Marc close for another kiss as he fell with his back against the closed door. Marc met the kiss openmouthed and wanting, his hand going to the doorknob to open the door. He held Marco up with a hand on Marco's lower back, keeping his from falling backward as the door flew open and Marc lead him into the room.

Marc was stronger than Marco had anticipated, which gave him many ideas that he needed to explore.

Marco continued to move backward, Marc guiding him. When the back of his knees his something soft, he allowed himself to fall backward and Marc helped him lay down softly.

He pulled at Marc's shirt hem, annoyed by the extra layers. "Take this off," he said, mumbling his words and lazily flicking the fabric between his fingers.

Marc did as he was told, and the clothing was quickly discarded. Marco did the same, unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it in the same direction as Marc had started throwing his clothes. He started to unzip his pants, stopping only to motion for Marc to do the same.

Marc was quick here too, the jeans falling down to the floor and then a fast two-step out of them. Toes catching the fabric and kicking the jeans to the side.

Marco snorted, pulling his pants down and off, letting them fall to the floor. He motioned for Marc to come closer, a beckoning finger asking him to come here. And once again, Marc did precisely what he was told, in record time.

He crowded Marco, chests pressed against each other as Marc took hold just under the curve of Marco's ass and hoisted him more onto the bed. Then placing himself on top of Marco.

"All good?"

"I'm great," Marco said, feeling his stomach flip as his mind replayed the light manhandling of the movement. So many possibilities, the opportunities were stacking up in neat little piles in his brain.

"Good," Marc said, followed by a kiss. A quick peck, something to sign the deal.

Marco could feel something in his lower belly start to form too early. He bit down, swallowed it, and placed his hands on Marc's shoulders as he hovered over him. He pushed Marc to his side, turning his own body so they were facing each other again. Legs still slightly tangled, feeling each other. The lack of pressure from another body helped, and Marco went in for another kiss.

The kissing got deeper, more rushed. Mouths open, small bursts of breathing against each other's lips to catch their breaths. Marc's hand graced Marco's cheek, moving along the jaw and then down over the side of his neck. Moving from the side and back to his nape, then back to the side in a slow movement.

Marc pulled away, already sounding out of breath. "Hey, so... What do you want?" he asked, his hand still moving over Marco's neck and into his hair. "Tell me what you like."

The touch felt deliberate to the point of almost being too much, too deep of a connection. Marco still leaned into it, acting like he'd been touch starved, and he was ready for a feast.

"Well, you're the bull rider-"

"You want me to ride you?" Marc asked, raising his brow and trying to hide his grin. Marco was still touching him, looking at him like they'd known each other for all their lives, and not like this was something new, not some one-time thing.

"I wouldn't mind that," Marc said, his eyes falling closed for a second as he composed himself. "But after seeing you in the car, I think you'd kill me — that… everything you did was… I don't think I can handle that happening again."

"Want to make another bet?" Marco asked, moving in close.

"Honestly, I'm starting to think that you always cheat when making bets."

"Is that a no?" Marco smirked. "I can show you a good time, I promise."

"Jesus christ, are you always like this?"

"No, you're special," Marco said, smiling. He knew his words sounded insincere, but there was a knot in Marc's throat that scared him. Not of what he said but what he wanted it to mean.

Marc leaned in, closing the short distance between them with another kiss. He positioned his body more on top of Marco, pressing him down into the mattress by his shoulders as he slowly made his way to fully straddling Marco. He could feel Marco half hard against his ass.

He pulled away from Marco's lips, his mouth gracing over Marco's chin and down his neck — making small stops to peck more kisses as he went. He found pleasure in this, feeling Marco's breath catch under him, the heat and taste of Marco's skin against him. It felt nice, felt needed.

His hands squeezed Marco's shoulders before moving down to feel along Marco's sides, feeling and pressing his fingers down into the mass under himself to make it known that he was there.

Marco's breathing was coming out in heavy bursts. Hitching and catching. Marc wanted him to talk, say something. Make a sound, something to tell Marc how he was feeling.

Marc liked the sound of him, reveled in it.

"This ok?" Marc asked. "You're quiet."

Marco shuddered, letting out a gasp. "I'm just — this is good, it's good," Marco said, looking down at Marc. His lashes looked so dark like that. Heavy and thick, eyes studying.

"Yeah?"

"Stop that," Marco laughed, pressing Marc's face down into his chest so that Marc couldn't look at him. "You fucking know it's good."

Marc didn't try to move against Marco's hand laying on his head. It wasn't holding him down, more holding him in place. There was no force, just the weight of Marco's hand. He grinned into Marco's skin, then continued his way down, down, down when he felt that Marco wasn’t going to hold him.

Marco's hand was still placed on his head as he moved, and he didn't do anything until Marc reached Marco's lower stomach. His fingers tangled up in Marc's hair and pulled, stopping him from moving.

"Give me a second," Marco said, so close to begging Marc wanted to tease the rest out immediately. "I just need to collect myself. Just one... One second."

With how Marc's head was placed, he still couldn't see Marco's face. The sound of his voice was thick, heavy and a bit slurred. Marc could feel Marco's pulse through his skin, feel the quickness of his breath.

"That's fine," Marc said, moving his hands below Marco's hipbones and holding on with a firm grip. "I can wait."

"Fuck, Marc," Marco said. "How are you so good at this."

"Practice makes perfect, right?"

"God fucking damn it, ok… ok," Marco pulled his hand back, his grip moving from Marc's hair to the sheets. "Ok, do your worst. I'm ready."

"Worst?" Marc asked, smiling up at Marco again, their eyes meeting. Marco looked flushed, his pupils blown and his bottom lip wet and marked. Marc wondered for a second if he was the one that had left the marks on there or if it was Marco biting down. Either way, Marc really liked the way it looked.

"Best, whatever," Marco huffed and then threw his arm over his eyes.

"I always do my best," Marc said like it was stupid of Marco to assume anything else.

Marc's fingers moved under the elastic of Marco's boxers, pulling them down as he laid another kiss just below Marco's belly button. He then sat up, seated on his knees between Marco's legs. He looked at Marco lying there in front of him — bare, needy. Skin pink and shiny, a blotchy blush over his chest and neck.

Marc's eyes moved further down, placing over chest hair that became a light sprinkling over a softer middle, which then became thicker as it went below his belly button. His eyes glanced lower, admiring his view as his eyes settled on Marco's dick.

"Can I touch you?"

"You've been touching me."

"Ha ha, can I touch your dick, you dick?" Marc pressed his thumbs into the soft skin by Marco's hipbones - making sure that Marco knew he was there. Desperate to leave a trace.

"Please don't be funny right now. I’m already so turned on I’m scared to become a heart attack statistic.”

Marc laughed, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, for fucks sake, touch me, please."

The room felt like it was filled with sparkling electricity as Marc bent down again, kissing from his last spot under Marco's belly button and continuing lower. He could hear Marco breathing heavily, his breaths falling into a steady, recognizable rhythm. Marc stopped, smiling against Marco's skin.

"Are you Lamaze breathing?" Marc asked between kisses, placing a last one at the base of Marco's dick. Marco let out a light groan.

"Yeah, I'm pacing myself." He sounded out of breath, flustered.

"You're so weird."

"You're such a tease."

"And you're so easy," Marc said, smiling up at Marco. "If you don't enjoy it, you can just tell me to stop."

Marco shook his head, "No, no, fuck no. I enjoy it.”

Marc crawled back up on Marco, placing himself so that they were face to face. Marco starred at him. Marc wasn’t sure what Marco could see, he was so close he was sure it would be blury, especially in the dimly lit bedroom they'd found themselves in.

“Hola,” Marc said, floating over Marco. His hands were placed on each side of Marco's head, keeping him up yet so very close.

“Ciao,” Marco said back, smiling. Marc sat back up, straddling Marco's middle. He reached for the curls covering his face and pulled them back, gently. “Thank you.”

“You need to see this part,” Marc said, leaning back to settle himself better over Marco's hips.

He started to move his hips softly, feeling Marco's dick press against the cleft of his ass. The fabric of his boxers was the only thing between them. Marco hissed, letting out small noises as Marc adjusted.

"What you do is, you follow the motion of the bull with your hips," Marc said, lifting himself up and then moving over Marco's crotch again with an easy flow in his hip. "The trick is to find the motion the bull is giving you, feel it with your hips, and then let it all move through your spine. You don't fight it."

"Inter- ah! -esting," Marco said through gritted teeth, a low moan splitting the word up. Marc smiled.

"I've been told I'm a great teacher." Marc didn't stop moving, grinding down smoothly over Marco and feeling his squirm.

"Cazzo, you're killing me," Marco said, voice pleading.

"Listen," Marc said, giving Marco a light slap on his cheek so he'd focus. "Just look at me, see what I'm doing?"

"Yeah," Marco said, voice breathy and low.

"I want you to do this for me, ok?"

Marco blinked, looking confused. "I thought we'd already established that I'm stiff as hell."

Marco looked down at Marc, "yeah, I can feel your dick against my ass. I know."

"I meant the riding."

Marc chuckled, ”I know, the bet is that I can teach you ride the bull.” Marc pressed down harder, making Marco tilt his head back as a hollow sound left his throat. "and, as I said, I've been told I'm a great teacher."

Marco took a deep breath, grabbing Marc by the hips and rolling them over. Marc felt like the heat was radiating from him when his back hit the sheets. Marco was on his knees between Marc's thighs, he kissed Marc once before leaning back on his heels and clicked his tongue.

"Well, let’s see what you can teach me, teach.”

Marc reached for the bottle of lube and slicked himself up by giving himself a few strokes as Marco positioned himself. Positioned over Marc, he leaned slightly forward — aligning himself with Marc's dick and then slowly pushing down.

Marc gasped, mouth falling open at the feeling. The slow movement up and down as Marco took more and more of him was excruciatingly hot. When Marco bottomed out, he stilled. Looking at Marc with heavy eyes and wetted his lips as he was getting used to the feeling. He looked amazing like that.

Marco adjusted, making Marc catch a moan in his throat.

"You good?" he asked, placing one of his hands on Marc's chest and the other on Marc's hip — finding his balance.

"Si," Marc said. "You can move."

Marco did as he was told, lifting himself up and then slow down again. Marco watched him closely, his hands on Marc's hips to help his movement, not for control.

"Fuck," Marc said under his breath, sounding like a whine.

Marc bit down on his bottom lip, his fingers digging into the meat on Marco's hip as he thrust up at the same time Marco came down. It made Marco let out a surprised moan, his rhythm halting. Marc thrust up again, deep and hard, his hands on Marco's hips helping him find the pace again.

"Is it- fuck… Is it good?” Marco asked, moving again. He was stiff in his movement, not to the point of making any of it less enjoyable, but Marc was trying to make a point.

"It’s good, it’s so - Marco, Bez," Marc said, moving his hands down Marco's thighs and feeling the muscle work. "Remember what I said, just feel it and follow. Just – Fuck!" Marc threw his head back as Marco, again, did just as he was told, finding the flow with Marc's thrust and met him seamlessly in the movement. Moving in a wavelike pattern, his hips loosening straight away.

Marc felt tension pooling in his lower stomach, a coil heating up lower down. His grip on Marco's thighs tightened, begging Marco to go faster. Marco was making all kinds of sounds, low moans that grew to almost a shout. Marc wanted to taste the sounds he was making.

He tried to speed up even more, desperate to hear what else would come out.

"You look so good. You look amazing," Marco groaned, feeling sweat run from his forehead and down his temple. "Fuck Bez, you sound amazing." Marc gripped Marco by the hip again, feeling up his sides. “Just like that, exactly like that. You’re doing so good.”

Marco smiled, not slowing his movement. "You like this?" he asked, more a question than a tease. Marc thrust up harder, hitting Marco deeper, and he fell forward. Gasping and whining.

"Oh god, I'm so fucking close-" Marco said, digging his face deeper into Marc's chest. His fingers on the hand that used to steady him pressed down into Marc's sternum and left marks. Marc didn't stop, the angle was weird, but it seemed to get the job done just fine. Marco's face still buried in his chest, mumbling nonsense and breathing hard.

The coil in Marc's lower belly was tensing up even more, he was close.

In the heat of the moment, he rolled them around. Changing positions so that he was on top and Marc fell on his back. He gasped, sounding like he was choking on air. Looking flushed all over, his eyes were almost entirely black and his curls ended up littered around, framing his face. Marc reached out and fixed them, wanting Marco to see, and then leaning down to kiss him as he started to move at a quick pace again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Marco said, his hands gripping into the sheets for leverage. "Touch me. Please, touch me."

One of Marco's hands grabbed Marc's, moving it over himself between them. Marc followed without question, placing his hand on Marco's dick and giving him slowly paced strokes. Marco's bottom lip quivered, his mouth open and a guttural sound came out. After a few more strokes, Marco started to cum roped between them. His body tensed, contracting on Marc as he tried to keep his pace going.

"You feel so fucking good, Holy-" With what he was seeing, sensing, smelling, Marc came. His eyes slammed shut as the orgasm took over. When he came to, he felt light and boneless, lying chest to chest with Marco. Both still breathing heavily, both sweaty and sticky.

After a moment, Marco cleared his throat, "Thank you for showing me the proper technique for doing that, I…." He laughed. "No, I can't even make up a joke right now. That was amazing. fucking hell."

"Yeah," Marc said, feeling like he was made of cloud. Marc Cumulus. Don't mind the double entendre.

They lied in silence for a few minutes after that, Marc realizing he was still inside Marco much later than was probably acceptable. He slowly pulled out, both of them hissing at the sensation.

"Sorry," Marc said, rolling off Marco and wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I think I lost most of my brain cells when I came, that was... Fuck, that was perfect.” He looked over at Marco, eyeing the shape of him. The size and the curve. He never wanted to stop looking, really wished he would be able to never stop.

Marco pulled the sheet up over his chest, followed by Marc quickly pulling it down again. Like they are playing a game. Marco smiled softly and with a twinkle in his eyes. He seemed shy now. Like looking at Marc was too much, but he couldn't make himself stop.

"Alright," Marco pulled the sheets up again, covering his chest up to his collarbones.

"That was good," Marc said, again. "Thank you."

Marco let out a full-body laugh, curving inward on the bed as he rolled over on his side towards Marc. He gave Marco a slow kiss on the cheek, and Marco wanted to follow him when he pulled away.

"Well, you’re welcome."

"Thanks," Marco said again, mortified by the sound of his own voice.

Marco felt hot all over still, not in the same way as earlier but like a teakettle ready to start whistling. The light of the outside streetlight showered Marc's face in a soft yellow. It felt like a sign. Marco had just not realized what for yet.

"All my pleasure, Bez." Marc said, rubbing the sheet over his belly. Really ruining them.

"No, don't say it like that!" Marco laughed, picking up the pillow from under his head and hitting Marc over the side of his face. "Don't be gross."

"I think you like a little gross," Marc said. "I think you're a little freak that's just waiting to get out."

Marco hit him with the pillow again, "Shut up!"

His laugh traveled from the middle of his chest, up and out in the open air of the bedroom. It ended in a smile, easy and genuine. Marc couldn't remember when he laughed like this last.

Marc waved his hands over his head in retreat, laying the pillow down, and then rolled over on his side, face to face with Marco.

"I'm not a freak."

"I know," Marc said. "Just a little bit weird and a lot of bossy."

Marco felt himself blush, "Bossy?"

"Great quality, as I love to be told what to do."

Marco narrowed his eyes on Marc, shaking his head slightly. "You don't seem like someone who does what others tell you."

"Oh, no. I'm not. I just like to be told to do stuff. It's different than actually doing what I'm told."

Marco laughed again, pressing Marc's face away from him with a playfulness he didn’t know he had in himself. The night was dark and quiet. Marco could lie like this forever. But he remembered what it was, a quick hook up after some quick flirting in a bar.

The feeling of bliss didn’t leave him though, and Marc didn’t stop smiling at him.

"So," Marc started, turning his head and staring up onto the ceiling. "Can I call you sometime?"

Marco looked at Marc's side profile. The downturn of his nose, the double curve of his lips. He wanted to thank Marc's parents for their excellent work. They really did a great job with the gene composition. They should get a prize, some kind of award for their work.

"Sure," Marco said. "You could do that."

"Nice, ok," Marc cleared his throat, still saying straight up. "And if I asked you out to dinner tomorrow, would that be ok too?"

Marco felt something flip in him, a flutter. "That would be ok."

"Great."

Marc laughed, followed by Marco laughing too.

"Good cause if this had been a one-time thing, I think I'd have to go celibate," Marc said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Don't think anyone else can live up to that. Ever."

"Stop flattering me. I already said yes to dinner." Marco laughed, poking Marc in the ribs.

"Hey, stop," He said, laughing too. "Maybe I'm flattering you for a second round?"

Marco let out a tired sigh, pressing his face into the middle of Marc's chest. Creating a burrow for himself to sleep. "Absolutely, I just need a nap first," He said. "Maybe a glass of water or a snack."

"I can accept all those things,” Marc said, his fingers moving through Marco's curls. “All those things are acceptable to me."

"Good, wake me up in like 45 minutes, ok?"

"Fine, yeah," Marc said, his fingers continuing to move through Marco's hair. "I'll do that."

#idk.#this will probably become a series #kats motogp blurbs!#marcmarc #bezquez #marco bezzecchi #marc marquez #mm93 #mb72 #vr46 #vr46 riders academy #vr46 academy #smut #rpf #fanfic #ao3 #mlm #im not really sure what this is tbh #this is for u sage!!!!

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scrollonso · 8 days

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57 with Marcmarc? :)

(i made an oopsie this is 26 with marcmarc...)

Marc sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, the silence between him and Marco growing heavier with every passing second. The tension in the room felt almost unbearable. Marco watched him, his heart aching, unsure whether to speak or stay silent.

Finally, Marco broke the silence. "You can't just shut me out like this every time something goes wrong."

Marc lifted his head slowly, his eyes clouded with guilt, he didn't know any better. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he whispered. "I’m sorry, mi dispiace. I didn’t mean to."

Marco's chest tightened. "But you did." He moved closer, sitting next to Marc, their knees brushing together. "I love you, Marc, but I can’t keep doing this — being left in the dark whenever things get too hard for you."

Marc sighed, his fingers running through his hair in frustration. "It’s not about you, Marco. It’s me. Every time I look at you, I see how much you’re giving me, how much you’re risking. And I’m afraid... I’m afraid I don’t deserve it." Marc considered admitting his main fear was hurting Marco how Valentino hurt him, but some things he felt were better left unsaid.

Marco reached out, gently cupping Marc’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze. "You deserve to be loved. You deserve me. But you have to stop pushing me away."

Marc leaned into Marco’s touch, his eyes softening. "I don’t know how to stop. It’s like I’m wired to mess this up, to hurt you."

"You’re not going to mess this up," Marco whispered, his thumb brushing across Marc's cheek. "Not if we’re honest with each other. This isn't like you and Vale, this is me and you."

"I want to be better for you," Marc admitted, his voice breaking. "I want to be someone you deserve."

Marco smiled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Marc’s lips. "Then stop saying you didn’t mean to and start meaning to. Be here with me."

Marc wrapped his arms around Marco, pulling him close, his lips lingering against Marco’s. "I’m sorry," he whispered again, but this time, there was hope behind his words. "I’ll try. For us." And Marco believed him, of course he did. Marc's a man of his words.

#kinda hurt/comfort bc thats my specialty when it comes to these two #kats chattin shit #motogp #marcmarc #bezquez #marco bezzecchi #marc marquez #mb72 #mm93 #fanfic #ao3 #rpf #motorsports rpf #motogp rpf #anon tag???#kats motogp blurbs!

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scrollonso · 1 month

Text

vale's reaction to marcmarc!!! (sage's og post)

-after he was told/shown that marc and marco are dating he gets very accusatory/defensive ("i know what kind of person you are." "i won't let you fuck him over like you do everyone else that gets close to you") [hypocrite]

-when he eventually leaves the room franky and luca aren't far behind

-he's MAD. how could they not tell him? ("what else are you hiding?" "is it that easy to lie to me?" "do you not trust me?" "how do you not see whats wrong with this.")

-he gets bez alone (marc most likely with pecco since they're civil and marc is dating his bestfriend) and tries to knock some sense into him, it doesn't work

-bez is hurt, by now having already cried twice at vale's reaction ("i'm not you, i don't see him how you do." "i'm more mature than you were at my age." "he's not a bad person you're just biased.")

-both vale and bez end up hurting eachothers feelings, bez not talking to him for the rest of the night

-when vale says marc isnt allowed to sleep in the same bed as bez he just walks away and slams his door, not wanting to argue but not wanting to listen

-when vale falls asleep (he's old so probably around 6pm) bez goes downstairs and finds marc on his phone, uncomfortable on the couch (and not liking the idea of sleeping without bez)

-he's quick to curl up besides his boyfriend, the spaniard quick to knit his fingers through bez's hair

-they fall asleep super quick in eachothers arms despite how crowded it is with two grown men on one sofa

-vale is the first to wake up, as per usual, and he walks into the livingroom and sees how marc is holding bez

-it was odd, they were never like that. it was never that soft, that loving, that innocent.

-even when vale and marc first started seeing eachother they were never equals, always god and follower

-with marc and bez it's different, their faces are close, arms wrapped around eachother, marc lightly holding the back of the younger boys head

-there was nothing malicious, nothing mean, marc was no rabid dog. at least not with bez.

-he had no choice but to be okay with it, even if he accepted it in silence, he decided maybe marc wasn't so bad

-having marc around more made bez a lot happier and it showed, vale could tell the reason bez was improving and working harder was because of marc.

-the days marc would come over bez would leave the track every once in a while, whether he was doing great or horrible he always left to talk to marc for a second

-the spaniard would tell him how good he was doing, even if it wasnt true, how proud he was of him improving, and kiss him before he went back out

-vale saw, how could he not? but he knew this marc was different than the marc he knew.

-the marc he knew wasn't tender. wasnt caring, loving, and when he was vale made sure to shut him down.

-vale and marc never loved eachother, marc loved feeling cared for and vale loved being worshipped.

-marc and bez had something different, something innocent (despite the NASTYYY sex, they dont fuck at the ranch.. have some decorum!) and when vale finally realized that he realized he didn't mind the couple

#ignore how much i wrote.#im a little crazy #motogp #marcmarc #bezquez #marco bezzecchi #marc marquez #mb72 #mm93 #kats motogp blurbs!#valentino rossi #vr46 #vr46 riders academy #vr46 academy #ty sage for saying i could add onto this...#i had a lot of fun 😿

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scrollonso · 13 days

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❛ don't just stand there, you tease. come here and let me taste. ❜ + marcmarc 👁️🫦👁️

To say Marco liked body modifications was a bit of an understatement. His entire right forearm was a canvas of ink, with each tattoo intricately woven with personal meaning, a reflection of his soul and the people he held closest to his heart.

Every piece told a story, marking milestones, relationships, and moments that had shaped him over the years. The tattoos on his thighs were more intimate, a collection of marks left behind by the people he loved most. His tattoos meant the world to him, a visual language of his life, but his piercings? Those were just for the thrill, for pleasure.

Marco reveled in the sensation of body modification — the sting of the needle, the sharp pinch as it penetrated his skin, the brief rush of pain followed by the cool metal resting against his body. He enjoyed it all, the controlled discomfort and the way it made him feel more connected to himself. His piercings were no exception. His earlobes had been pierced for as long as he could remember, a small tribute to Vale. Then there was the nipple piercing, something he'd gotten purely for the fun of it, a playful indulgence that had become part of his signature look.

But of all the things Marco had done to modify his body, there was one recent addition that stood out as his favorite. It wasn't just another tattoo or a piercing on a whim — it was something he had planned, something that had taken him a long time to commit to. A little over two months ago, he had taken the leap and pierced his frenum himself, something he’d always been curious about but hesitant to do. It wasn’t the fear of pain that had held him back, but the idea of abstaining from sex with Marc during the healing process. The thought of waiting had always been the hardest part.

However, when Marc had been stuck in Spain for roughly ninety days, the perfect opportunity presented itself. With Marc away, Marco found the time to let the piercing heal without any distractions, giving it the necessary care and attention it required. The idea of surprising Marc when he returned had been a driving force, and now, after weeks of anticipation, that day had finally arrived.

The piercing had healed perfectly, just as Marco had hoped, and today was the day he'd reveal it to Marc. The thought of seeing Marc's reaction filled him with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. He knew it would be worth the wait, and he couldn't help but smile at the idea of how it would change things between them.

As Marc stepped through the door, Marco's heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves. He had been waiting for this moment for weeks, but now that it was finally here, the reality of it hit him. The anticipation of revealing his surprise to Marc had been building up, and now it was time to see his boyfriend's reaction.

"Hey," Marc greeted with a warm smile, stepping closer and pulling Marco into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of Marc washed over him, calming some of the jitters that had been swirling inside. Marco relaxed in his arms for a moment, savoring the warmth and comfort that Marc always brought with him.

But then the nervous energy crept back in. This wasn’t just a casual reunion. He pulled away slightly, biting his lip as he debated how to bring up the surprise. How do you even casually announce that you’d pierced your dick?

Marc, ever observant, raised an eyebrow, sensing something was up. "You okay?" he asked, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "You look like you're about to tell me something big."

Marco chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. "Well, yeah. I’ve got a little... surprise for you." His voice wavered slightly, but the playful glint in his eyes helped keep the mood light.

Marc’s curiosity was piqued instantly. "Oh? What kind of surprise?" He leaned in, his hands resting on Marco’s hips, clearly intrigued.

Taking a deep breath, Marco steeled himself. "Okay, so, while you were gone, I may have... made a little change." He stepped back, his hands fumbling slightly with his belt as he undid his jeans. Marc’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

Marco tugged his pants down just enough to reveal the piercing on the underside of his shaft, glancing up nervously to gauge Marc’s reaction. The silence that followed felt like an eternity.

Marc’s gaze locked onto the metal gleaming against Marco’s skin. His eyes flickered with surprise, then with something deeper, darker. Slowly, a grin spread across his face — equal parts impressed and amused. "Damn," he breathed, his voice low and filled with an almost reverent awe. "You really went for it."

Marco’s heart raced as Marc’s fingers ghosted over the piercing, careful but clearly curious. "I wanted to surprise you," Marco said, his voice quieter now. "It’s been healed for a bit, and... well, I thought you’d like it."

Marc’s grin widened, his gaze flicking back up to meet Marco’s. "Like it? I love it." There was a possessive edge to Marc’s voice now, and Marco’s stomach flipped at the intensity of his expression. "You’ve been waiting all this time to show me, haven’t you?"

Marco nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. "Yeah, I wanted it to be perfect when you came back."

Marc’s hand slipped around Marco’s waist, pulling him in closer. "It is perfect," Marc whispered, his breath hot against Marco’s ear. "And now I can’t wait to see how it feels."

Marc’s grip tightened on Marco’s waist as his words hung in the air, the smirk on his face sending a shiver down Marco’s spine. Without another word, Marc guided Marco through the hallway and into their bedroom, the door closing behind them with a soft click. The familiar room felt different now — charged with an almost electric tension that made Marco’s pulse race.

As they stepped inside, Marc turned to face Marco, his eyes dark with hunger. He wasted no time, pulling Marco close again, their bodies flush together, lips grazing but not quite meeting. His hands wandered, fingers brushing over Marco’s skin with an almost teasing lightness, making Marco ache with anticipation.

Marc’s voice dropped lower, the playful edge still there but laced with something more primal. "Don’t just stand there, you tease," he said, his breath warm against Marco’s ear. "Come and let me taste."

The words sent a thrill through Marco, his stomach flipping at the command. Marc stepped back just enough to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving Marco's. There was a silent dare in the way Marc’s gaze raked over him, waiting, expecting.

Marco swallowed, heat pooling in his chest as he shed the rest of his clothes, his movements slow and deliberate, teasing Marc right back. The way Marc’s eyes darkened with each piece of clothing that fell made Marco’s heart pound harder.

When Marco was finally standing before him, bare and vulnerable, Marc’s lips curved into a predatory grin. He reached out, his hands gripping Marco’s hips with firm, possessive strength, pulling him in closer until Marco was right in front of him.

Marc’s hands slid down Marco’s thighs, tracing the ink on his skin as he leaned in, lips grazing Marco’s skin with a whisper of a kiss. "Let’s see just how good of a surprise this really is," Marc murmured, his voice thick with anticipation, the weight of his words sending another rush of heat through Marco’s body. “Can I touch it?”

Marco makes a high pitched noise. Marc turns to look up at him with a carefully blank face.

“Sì, if you… if you want,” he says.

Marc does want that. He's fully sitting up now, hovering over Marco's dick like a kid staring down at an ant hill, curiosity actively killing the cat. He reaches out a hand and thumbs at the little metal ball at the tip. Marco jumps and Marc snatches his hand back.

“Did I hurt you?” Marc asks.

“No, uh- the opposite, actually,” Marco says with a hoarse voice. It takes a moment for that to register in Marc's mind. The opposite. He hums to himself like this isn't anything interesting, and reaches out to press at it again. It slides around the skin directly under his tip like he assumes any piercing can. He tries pushing it to the side, pressing on the hole, and Marco twitches again. He drops his hand to press at the metal balls popping out from his shaft. Marco's grip around his dick tightens. Marc takes a peek at his face. He's got one forearm slung over his eyes, head turned to the side. His mouth is hanging open.

Marc slowly wraps his fingers around the tip and lets his thumb push in on the piercing. Marco sucks in a sharp breath and his hips snap up once. He's fully hard now, and he lets himself go to tangle his fingers in the bedsheets. Marc rolls his thumb around the piercing, marveling at how it's placed prettily right at his eye level, straining with a red flush traveling down from the tip. It's dumb. Marc knows this is how it works, he's got a dick of his own. But it captures all of his attention anyway, the way it's starting to turn a little red at the tip. The way he's finally back with his boyfriend after far too long apart.

It's so intensely quiet. Other than their neighbour’s TV and the sounds of the city, without the constant hum of electricity buzzing around them, Marc can hear every little gasp Marco makes. This is turning into something more than simple curiosity about his boyfriends new addition. Sweat rolls down Marc's back. He pushes on the piercing again and wonders what it would taste like. He's bit Marco's earlobes, sucked his nipple, but the thought of the metal moving with Marco's dick as he sucks him dry pulls him in.

“How does it feel?” Marc asks. His voice is thick and he has to clear his throat. Marco slowly lowers the arm covering his face and opens his eyes to stare at Marco.

“When you cum?” Marc clarifies. This doesn't seem to shock Marco any less.

“It's…uh. Nice,” Marc says carefully.

“Nice? Really? You're friends with poetic DJ's and that's the best you can come up with?” Marc teases.

Marco's cheeks are flushed, his curls a little frizzy from his arms up in his hair. He's already flushed with sweat from the heat, but there's a new layer of intensity coating his being.

“I don't know how it'd feel in, Marc. I'm the one with the piercing,” Marco says weakly.

“You can't use your imagination?” Marc pushes petulantly. He rubs his thumb over the tip again, looking right into Marco's eyes. He's about one step away from giving him a hand job, and Marco's dick is only getting firmer and firmer in his hand. Marco sucks in a sharp breath.

“Marc,” he says, like a warning.

Marc can feel his own dick straining against his shorts. He's into this. He's so fucking into it. He wants it in his mouth. The thought has him leaking in his underwear.

“Can I do more?” he asks, too nervous to be specific despite the fact that they've done so much more than handjobs. Marco's dick twitches.

“Yeah,” he says.

Mar leans down and licks the piercing. Marco sucks in a gasp and thrusts his hips up, shoving his dick past Marc's lips.

“Holy fuck, Marc-” he hisses.

Marc sucks the dick into his mouth, rolling his tongue across the barbell, playing with the cool metal just because he can. Marco throws his hands over his face and moans. His hips are moving without any restraint now, and Marc lifts his face from Marco's crotch with a wet pop just to hear the way he cries at the loss. He lightly drags his tongue around the head, licking up precum with glee. He's so fucking into it. He always loved going down on Marco, loved the way he squirmed, the way he sounded and tasted. He loves it even more now.

He lowers a hand to his crotch and pulls at his underwear. He's fully hard now, his shorts are doing nothing to hide it. Marco's chest is heaving.

“Is this ok?” Marc asks.

“Of course it's- oh my god!” Marco cries, as Marc dips his head lower. There’s something about it. The musky scent, the ache already forming in his jaw, the way the piercing drags against the back of his tongue as he pushes his head further and further down Marco's burning shaft. He could do it forever.

Marco's kind of quiet, which Marc didn't expect. He thought he'd be more vocal after the piercing. Marc looks up at him and meets his eyes. He's not sure what Marco sees- probably Marc's increasingly reddening cheeks as he touches himself, but it makes Marco shout, and then something hot hits the back of Marc's throat.

He drops Marco's dick from his mouth, more startled from the suddenness than anything else, and then Marco's cum shoots across his face. A wave of pleasure hits him like a truck, and then he's staring down at a wet spot on Marco's thigh and the bedsheets.

He and Marco are breathing heavily, staring at each other in a comfortable silence.

Marc wants to do it again. He wants to lick his own cum off Marco's thigh and then kiss him stupid. Maybe find out more about the benefits of a dick piercing. But Marco's completely frozen, eyes glossed over.

“That was fucking hot,” Marc says, and Marco laughs a little crazily, eyes wide like he can't believe it.

“Yeah,” he says.

“We should do it again,” Marc says, sliding closer.

“Yeah?” Marco smiles, Marc acting as if this wasn't usually a daily occurance for him.

Marc situates himself so he's sitting on top him, straddling his waist. Marco's hands carefully wrap around to grope his ass, and Marc realizes just how much he missed this, missed being in Marco's arms.

“Definitely. And then, maybe again after that.”

“Oh you think you can keep up, Marq-” Marco begins to tease, the tension slipping from his body.

Marc cut him off with a kiss. And a few hours later, when Vale called to ask why Marco hadn't shown up to train at the ranch, they were too busy to notice.

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