Top (Thierry Henry/David Beckham)
Titles: Top.
Pairing: Thierry Henry/David Beckham
Rating: NC-100
Word Count: 2792
Disclaimer: Tragically untrue.
Summary: Thierry. David. Rough. Lustful nostalgia. Filthy mouths.
They aren't spring chickens anymore.
When David first heard the saying from an American journalist, he'd laughed until his face was red. But he got the implications and he's definitely feeling them now on the pitch in the 80th minute in a friendly against Barcelona; his calves are tight and his ankles are sore and his back is killing him and he just can... quite... seem... to catch his breath. He leans over just as his team steals the ball off of Busquets, half listening to the stadium erupt in cheers and half just trying to breathe, his hands clasping his knees, sweat dripping down his temple. He feels a sudden, invasive slap on his ass and he looks over in immediate alarm (this is America, you don't do those things unless... well.) and grins when he sees that it's Thierry. Thierry mirrors David's posture almost exactly, sweat falling from the top of his own smooth head down over his face. Their eyes lock and they can't help but laugh (albeit breathlessly), shaking their heads at themselves and at each other as they stand up. David smirks and Thierry smirks right back.
"Old man," David pants, leaning into Thierry to nudge him. Thierry leans right back, grateful for the momentary rest and they walk away from each other as the action returns upfield, both reaching back out of instinct and old habit to clasp hands, and the way their fingers cling together until they can't anymore keeps David smiling until the final whistle.
--
Reporters are like bugs, they decide as they whisper together, David's sweaty shirt clasped in Thierry's hand and Thierry's in David's, both of them lifting their hands to cover their mouths as they talk to each other. They aren't old. They're just smart.. Another reporter closes in and pushes their sweaty bodies together and David wraps an arm around Thierry's back, hugging against him and smiling for flash after flash after flash after...
They catch eyes again and thoughts are read and smiles are exchanged. David nods away at nothing in particular but the message is received loud and clear and David now has something to look forward to.
--
Thierry teases David about the fact that he has a secret condo in Santa Monica the entire way there. He glances over and watches the way David shifts gears (decisively, precisely, without hesitation and with perfect, perfect timing), watches the way his eyes light the strangest green brown and watches the way his mouth curls when he speaks with that strong, street kid accent of his. He reaches over when David is in mid-sentence and slides a hand up the back of his damp hair (water this time instead of sweat but it still feels thrilling) and tugs on it, relishing the way David's lips purse. David doesn't glance over but he glances in his rearview out of instinct and, when he sees nothing, smiles devilishly out at the road. Thierry watches him carefully, fine fingers dragging manicured nails over his scalp, sending shivers up David's spine and Thierry licks his already pink mouth.
"How much longer til we get there?"
--
David lets Thierry walk into the the condo and he looks out at the private beach (of course he has a private beach), at the utter darkness and stars and sand and sea and David isn't making any moves to turn any lights on and Thierry can find him by smell alone, by heat alone. He turns to reach for him but David is already leaning back against the couch and Thierry's mouth devours David's, crushing their teeth together and David is a warm tongue and rough hands and Thierry stands up straight, making himself the full two inches taller he is than David and curling down around him, hands sliding around David's waist and pushing down easily under his shorts to grip his ass. He breathes a laugh in a rush over David's mouth and David's smile is easy and tastes probably just like that sea out there.
"What?"
Thierry grunts as he grips David's ass even harder, turning his fingers almost soft suddenly and kneading it, making David sigh against his mouth and christ. Jet-jag and age be damned. He digs his hips forward lazily and David's eyebrows shoot up for the thickening burn he feels through Thierry's shorts. "Practically a Spanish ass."
David grin to reveal his snaggle tooth and Thierry licks at it with the velvet tip of his tongue, taking the opportunity while David is distracted by sucking on his tongue to push a dry, long thumb up inside of him, making David grunt in surprise and he loosens his legs and thighs and ass and lets Thierry fuck him a bit with it, lets him add another finger and thrust and stretch him and his face is quickly becoming flushed and he's holding onto Thierry's forearms and he presses his face against his ear and gasps there.
"Oh, yeah. Oh, jesus christ. Is this how rough you are with all your little whores, Titi? With that little blue-eyed one, don't think I didn't see him, don't think-- fuck!" He leans against Thierry completely when he adds yet another finger and he's being fucked dry with three fingers and he's gritting his teeth and Thierry's earlobe is caught between sharp teeth now.
"Shut up, David. You know you miss it. Mmm, I know you do. Don't you, love?" Thierry pulls his fingers out and indelicately spits thick and fast on his fingers before forcing them back up into David, using his other hand to force his shorts down, his underwear, kicking them away and knocking David's legs wide so he can start this claiming. For a minute he just fucks him with his fingers and listens to him pant, feels him nod, feels one of those heavy hands move up between their bodies until David is rubbing Thierry's cock through his shorts and they're both entirely too hard now to be rational. David just keeps nodding and Thierry just keeps groaning out filth. "Hot Spanish nights, locker rooms full of tan skin, that language everywhere you go. Se siente en sus huesos y en su polla. Sí? Tight, sweet asses, so many of them, as many as you wanted. I bet I can guess every one of them you fucked. I bet I can guess your favorite."
David moans outright then and he's ripping at Thierry's shorts, shoving them down and they both step out of sandals and pull shirts off and they're climbing over the couch and Thierry won't let David lie down, he won't let him climb on. He turns David around and shoves him forward until he's on his hands and his knees and he kneels just there behind him, running a hand from the nape of his neck and down his spine to his ass and he gives his ass a bruising, appreciate slap. David just arches up into it and rolls his ass and it's gorgeous and Thierry is fucking his cock into his own hand, the head nudging between David's cheeks with each push of his hips. David drops his head and pants down at the couch, leaning down to rest all his weight on one elbow so that he can give his own cock a firm, rough tug.
"I bet I can guess your favorite, too."
"Never." Thierry's voice is more of a growl now and he drops his long body down over David's, covering him and he forces his way into David now, practically dry and they roar together, pain and unbelievable pressure and heat and then he's in, then they're panting together, Thierry's lean chest against David's smooth, mocha against caramel and Thierry's teeth are dragging up the soft, short hair at the back of David's neck. They travel back down to the nape and he bites down hard enough to break skin the same second he starts to fuck up into him, his hands framing the width of David's ass, fingers digging into his hipbones. "I know who you had. I know Guti was the first, I know he begged for it. He idolized you and he was the best cocksucker of them all. One look and he'd drop to his knees. Right?" He licks at the now broken skin, tasting the faint metallic tinge of blood.
David just moans and it's a sound that's stuck in his throat, a quiet, strangled sound and he's so used to having to hide it, to being quiet and his nails are ripping at the couch and his other hand has a death grip on his cock and his ass is arched back to feed it to Thierry's cock. Thierry pulls out and enters him all over again to make it feel just as delicious as the first time and to make it feel new and just so he could watch how David Beckham's ass looks as it closes up greedily before his cock widens him right back out.
"Mm. Then it was Raúl. He fucked you though, he fucked you with that long, dark cock, didn't he? He's captain and he let you know it and you came so hard you were embarrassed. He never told anyone what a slut you are for cock, did he? Do you think he told anyone?"
David manages to shake his head and Thierry grins through gritted teeth and curls down until his breath is damp on David's ear and his voice is a wet whisper.
"He told me."
David trembles then, the insides of his thighs quaking with lust and exertion and a strong climax building deep in his guts and he spreads his ass out and offers it up even harder, earning Thierry's hip bruising against his ass, that cock ripping straight into him in perfect, punishing thrusts and he has to hold onto his cock to keep from coming.
"You haven't guessed right. You're wrong."
"Not Ramos though you fucked him every chance you got. Young and eager and he'd climb right on, he rode you better than any girl you've ever been with and he made you feel like a god. Nah, it wasn't him. But I know who it was. I know your secret. Yeah? Do you think I know? You think I don't know how deep it got with him, you think I don't know what almost happened, what you almost sacrificed for him?"
"Oh, god." David digs his forehead into the cushion and he trembles now, his hand speeding up on his cock and he's gasping for air now, the entire room feeling barely big enough for the two of them. He rocks violently between his own hand and Thierry's cock and he feels the bruises that Thierry's fingers are leaving on his hips, on his ass, inside of him. "Oh, fuck. Say it. Say it."
Thierry curls around him even more, forcing David down until he's prone against the couch and his cock and his hand are trapped beneath him but he's pounding him into the cushions, their skin is slapping hard enough to leave red marks and his tongue flicks against David's ear, licking almost delicately before he whispers one single word.
"Iker."
David convulses as he comes into his hand, sound choking in his throat and he's sucking in sharp, half-formed breaths, his whole body tensing and lifting back to drag Thierry in deeper, Iker's face in the gorgeous flush of orgasm in full, vivid color on the back of his fluttering eyelids and his body is so tense with pleasure that he nearly passes out. He finally drops down against the couch and he cannot move to even take his hand off of his spent cock and he's heaving loud gasps into the couch. He feels Thierry pull out of him sharply and he feels the rough smack on his ass and then all of a sudden there are fingers threaded in his hair and his head is jerked up at a awkward angle and there is a gleaming, burning cock against his bottom lip and jesus fucking christ, it had been. Too. Long.
He opens his mouth just the slightest bit, all the invitation Thierry needs and he buries his cock all the way down David's throat and David cries out through a choking gasp, his body alive again immediately as he pushes himself to sit up but Thierry thrusts immediately, fucking his throat and David strangles out a plea, his face bright red, his mouth stretched as wide as it ever had been. He reaches up with hands that feel like weights and weakly shoves at Thierry's hips, finally pulling his cock up out of his throat and he's gasping for air, nails digging into his skin and he's glaring up at him and his cock is already twitching again against his thigh. Thierry's hands are locked in his hair and he controls the tilt of David's head with easy power, forcing him close enough that David tongues his slit and he smirks up at Thierry when he hisses.
"You think you're so good at secrets. I've known about Cesc for years. I knew back when he was still a child, you bastard. Scandalous, how young he was when you first fucked him. Couldn't have been over sixteen, could he? Impossible."
"The night before his sixteenth birthday." He pulls David's face forward and fucks his mouth for a moment, watching the undignified spit leaking from David's mouth and it's such a gorgeous sight that he runs a brief hand over his cheek. "It was all he wanted."
"You trained him, didn't you? Custom-made his mouth just for you. He did this, didn't he? What you're making me do?"
Thierry smiles and it's ruthless and charmed and he makes David hold his cock down his throat until he gags and he rips him back off of it, smirking as he watches him struggle to recover.
"He was better."
"Was he tight?" David licks his own mouth and he rubs Thierry's thighs now, his tongue out to try and lick at that cock twitching in front of him as Thierry moans. He lets David back on it and David sucks hard, bobbing his head with the help of Thierry's hands and he closes his eyes, getting lost in the rhythm of it and god, yes. He had missed this.
"Tightest. The tightest I've ever had. Fuck. Oh, fuck." Thierry moans over and over as David sucks on him just right (he'd never admit it though), as he rubs and pulls at his balls with that strong right hand and he thrusts into his mouth, using him blindly, his eyes tightly closed. "You ask your Iker, the next time you see him. You ask him just how tight Cesc is."
David whimpers and he reaches down between his legs to rub his cock, jerking himself off again when he realizes that he's so close once more, already, so close just at the mention of--
"Iker fucks him the way he needs to be fucked. I know he does. I made sure of it. I told him just how to do it. Did you know your little Iker is probably better at fucking than either of us is?"
Thierry pulls out of David's mouth again and David pants against Thierry's smooth thigh, mouth parted and Thierry reaches down to stroke himself and they stay just like that, leaning and panting and stroking themselves and Thierry is about to explode so he angles David's head again, poising his cock right against his panting mouth, against his cheek.
"My Iker. My Iker." David flicks his tongue against the head of his cock and he fucks his own hand and he comes again, forcing his mouth to stay open to catch the thick stream that Thierry is sending in against his tongue, his eyes fluttering when it hits his cheek and drips down his jaw and he can't hear himself or he'd be humiliated by how much he's moaning, how loud and hard his own orgasm is. He sucks on Thierry a little more but he's tired now and when Thierry finally releases David's head and they both find their way back onto the couch, spilled across each other and David reaches blindly for any article of clothing on the floor to wipe his face off, his stomach and then they're being very still, deep, heavy pants the only sound in the entire building. David grunts after a moment, surprised at how much Thierry weighs on top of him.
"Wanna go again in a little bit?"
Thierry snorts and it makes David laugh and then immediately whimper for the hard slap Thierry brings against the side of his thigh.
"Fuck off. I'm an old man."
They both laugh and shove hard against each other but end up just settling back down again.
"Maybe in the morning then?"
Thierry smirks one last time.
"If you're lucky."
Pairing: Thierry Henry/David Beckham
Rating: NC-100
Word Count: 2792
Disclaimer: Tragically untrue.
Summary: Thierry. David. Rough. Lustful nostalgia. Filthy mouths.
They aren't spring chickens anymore.
When David first heard the saying from an American journalist, he'd laughed until his face was red. But he got the implications and he's definitely feeling them now on the pitch in the 80th minute in a friendly against Barcelona; his calves are tight and his ankles are sore and his back is killing him and he just can... quite... seem... to catch his breath. He leans over just as his team steals the ball off of Busquets, half listening to the stadium erupt in cheers and half just trying to breathe, his hands clasping his knees, sweat dripping down his temple. He feels a sudden, invasive slap on his ass and he looks over in immediate alarm (this is America, you don't do those things unless... well.) and grins when he sees that it's Thierry. Thierry mirrors David's posture almost exactly, sweat falling from the top of his own smooth head down over his face. Their eyes lock and they can't help but laugh (albeit breathlessly), shaking their heads at themselves and at each other as they stand up. David smirks and Thierry smirks right back.
"Old man," David pants, leaning into Thierry to nudge him. Thierry leans right back, grateful for the momentary rest and they walk away from each other as the action returns upfield, both reaching back out of instinct and old habit to clasp hands, and the way their fingers cling together until they can't anymore keeps David smiling until the final whistle.
--
Reporters are like bugs, they decide as they whisper together, David's sweaty shirt clasped in Thierry's hand and Thierry's in David's, both of them lifting their hands to cover their mouths as they talk to each other. They aren't old. They're just smart.. Another reporter closes in and pushes their sweaty bodies together and David wraps an arm around Thierry's back, hugging against him and smiling for flash after flash after flash after...
They catch eyes again and thoughts are read and smiles are exchanged. David nods away at nothing in particular but the message is received loud and clear and David now has something to look forward to.
--
Thierry teases David about the fact that he has a secret condo in Santa Monica the entire way there. He glances over and watches the way David shifts gears (decisively, precisely, without hesitation and with perfect, perfect timing), watches the way his eyes light the strangest green brown and watches the way his mouth curls when he speaks with that strong, street kid accent of his. He reaches over when David is in mid-sentence and slides a hand up the back of his damp hair (water this time instead of sweat but it still feels thrilling) and tugs on it, relishing the way David's lips purse. David doesn't glance over but he glances in his rearview out of instinct and, when he sees nothing, smiles devilishly out at the road. Thierry watches him carefully, fine fingers dragging manicured nails over his scalp, sending shivers up David's spine and Thierry licks his already pink mouth.
"How much longer til we get there?"
--
David lets Thierry walk into the the condo and he looks out at the private beach (of course he has a private beach), at the utter darkness and stars and sand and sea and David isn't making any moves to turn any lights on and Thierry can find him by smell alone, by heat alone. He turns to reach for him but David is already leaning back against the couch and Thierry's mouth devours David's, crushing their teeth together and David is a warm tongue and rough hands and Thierry stands up straight, making himself the full two inches taller he is than David and curling down around him, hands sliding around David's waist and pushing down easily under his shorts to grip his ass. He breathes a laugh in a rush over David's mouth and David's smile is easy and tastes probably just like that sea out there.
"What?"
Thierry grunts as he grips David's ass even harder, turning his fingers almost soft suddenly and kneading it, making David sigh against his mouth and christ. Jet-jag and age be damned. He digs his hips forward lazily and David's eyebrows shoot up for the thickening burn he feels through Thierry's shorts. "Practically a Spanish ass."
David grin to reveal his snaggle tooth and Thierry licks at it with the velvet tip of his tongue, taking the opportunity while David is distracted by sucking on his tongue to push a dry, long thumb up inside of him, making David grunt in surprise and he loosens his legs and thighs and ass and lets Thierry fuck him a bit with it, lets him add another finger and thrust and stretch him and his face is quickly becoming flushed and he's holding onto Thierry's forearms and he presses his face against his ear and gasps there.
"Oh, yeah. Oh, jesus christ. Is this how rough you are with all your little whores, Titi? With that little blue-eyed one, don't think I didn't see him, don't think-- fuck!" He leans against Thierry completely when he adds yet another finger and he's being fucked dry with three fingers and he's gritting his teeth and Thierry's earlobe is caught between sharp teeth now.
"Shut up, David. You know you miss it. Mmm, I know you do. Don't you, love?" Thierry pulls his fingers out and indelicately spits thick and fast on his fingers before forcing them back up into David, using his other hand to force his shorts down, his underwear, kicking them away and knocking David's legs wide so he can start this claiming. For a minute he just fucks him with his fingers and listens to him pant, feels him nod, feels one of those heavy hands move up between their bodies until David is rubbing Thierry's cock through his shorts and they're both entirely too hard now to be rational. David just keeps nodding and Thierry just keeps groaning out filth. "Hot Spanish nights, locker rooms full of tan skin, that language everywhere you go. Se siente en sus huesos y en su polla. Sí? Tight, sweet asses, so many of them, as many as you wanted. I bet I can guess every one of them you fucked. I bet I can guess your favorite."
David moans outright then and he's ripping at Thierry's shorts, shoving them down and they both step out of sandals and pull shirts off and they're climbing over the couch and Thierry won't let David lie down, he won't let him climb on. He turns David around and shoves him forward until he's on his hands and his knees and he kneels just there behind him, running a hand from the nape of his neck and down his spine to his ass and he gives his ass a bruising, appreciate slap. David just arches up into it and rolls his ass and it's gorgeous and Thierry is fucking his cock into his own hand, the head nudging between David's cheeks with each push of his hips. David drops his head and pants down at the couch, leaning down to rest all his weight on one elbow so that he can give his own cock a firm, rough tug.
"I bet I can guess your favorite, too."
"Never." Thierry's voice is more of a growl now and he drops his long body down over David's, covering him and he forces his way into David now, practically dry and they roar together, pain and unbelievable pressure and heat and then he's in, then they're panting together, Thierry's lean chest against David's smooth, mocha against caramel and Thierry's teeth are dragging up the soft, short hair at the back of David's neck. They travel back down to the nape and he bites down hard enough to break skin the same second he starts to fuck up into him, his hands framing the width of David's ass, fingers digging into his hipbones. "I know who you had. I know Guti was the first, I know he begged for it. He idolized you and he was the best cocksucker of them all. One look and he'd drop to his knees. Right?" He licks at the now broken skin, tasting the faint metallic tinge of blood.
David just moans and it's a sound that's stuck in his throat, a quiet, strangled sound and he's so used to having to hide it, to being quiet and his nails are ripping at the couch and his other hand has a death grip on his cock and his ass is arched back to feed it to Thierry's cock. Thierry pulls out and enters him all over again to make it feel just as delicious as the first time and to make it feel new and just so he could watch how David Beckham's ass looks as it closes up greedily before his cock widens him right back out.
"Mm. Then it was Raúl. He fucked you though, he fucked you with that long, dark cock, didn't he? He's captain and he let you know it and you came so hard you were embarrassed. He never told anyone what a slut you are for cock, did he? Do you think he told anyone?"
David manages to shake his head and Thierry grins through gritted teeth and curls down until his breath is damp on David's ear and his voice is a wet whisper.
"He told me."
David trembles then, the insides of his thighs quaking with lust and exertion and a strong climax building deep in his guts and he spreads his ass out and offers it up even harder, earning Thierry's hip bruising against his ass, that cock ripping straight into him in perfect, punishing thrusts and he has to hold onto his cock to keep from coming.
"You haven't guessed right. You're wrong."
"Not Ramos though you fucked him every chance you got. Young and eager and he'd climb right on, he rode you better than any girl you've ever been with and he made you feel like a god. Nah, it wasn't him. But I know who it was. I know your secret. Yeah? Do you think I know? You think I don't know how deep it got with him, you think I don't know what almost happened, what you almost sacrificed for him?"
"Oh, god." David digs his forehead into the cushion and he trembles now, his hand speeding up on his cock and he's gasping for air now, the entire room feeling barely big enough for the two of them. He rocks violently between his own hand and Thierry's cock and he feels the bruises that Thierry's fingers are leaving on his hips, on his ass, inside of him. "Oh, fuck. Say it. Say it."
Thierry curls around him even more, forcing David down until he's prone against the couch and his cock and his hand are trapped beneath him but he's pounding him into the cushions, their skin is slapping hard enough to leave red marks and his tongue flicks against David's ear, licking almost delicately before he whispers one single word.
"Iker."
David convulses as he comes into his hand, sound choking in his throat and he's sucking in sharp, half-formed breaths, his whole body tensing and lifting back to drag Thierry in deeper, Iker's face in the gorgeous flush of orgasm in full, vivid color on the back of his fluttering eyelids and his body is so tense with pleasure that he nearly passes out. He finally drops down against the couch and he cannot move to even take his hand off of his spent cock and he's heaving loud gasps into the couch. He feels Thierry pull out of him sharply and he feels the rough smack on his ass and then all of a sudden there are fingers threaded in his hair and his head is jerked up at a awkward angle and there is a gleaming, burning cock against his bottom lip and jesus fucking christ, it had been. Too. Long.
He opens his mouth just the slightest bit, all the invitation Thierry needs and he buries his cock all the way down David's throat and David cries out through a choking gasp, his body alive again immediately as he pushes himself to sit up but Thierry thrusts immediately, fucking his throat and David strangles out a plea, his face bright red, his mouth stretched as wide as it ever had been. He reaches up with hands that feel like weights and weakly shoves at Thierry's hips, finally pulling his cock up out of his throat and he's gasping for air, nails digging into his skin and he's glaring up at him and his cock is already twitching again against his thigh. Thierry's hands are locked in his hair and he controls the tilt of David's head with easy power, forcing him close enough that David tongues his slit and he smirks up at Thierry when he hisses.
"You think you're so good at secrets. I've known about Cesc for years. I knew back when he was still a child, you bastard. Scandalous, how young he was when you first fucked him. Couldn't have been over sixteen, could he? Impossible."
"The night before his sixteenth birthday." He pulls David's face forward and fucks his mouth for a moment, watching the undignified spit leaking from David's mouth and it's such a gorgeous sight that he runs a brief hand over his cheek. "It was all he wanted."
"You trained him, didn't you? Custom-made his mouth just for you. He did this, didn't he? What you're making me do?"
Thierry smiles and it's ruthless and charmed and he makes David hold his cock down his throat until he gags and he rips him back off of it, smirking as he watches him struggle to recover.
"He was better."
"Was he tight?" David licks his own mouth and he rubs Thierry's thighs now, his tongue out to try and lick at that cock twitching in front of him as Thierry moans. He lets David back on it and David sucks hard, bobbing his head with the help of Thierry's hands and he closes his eyes, getting lost in the rhythm of it and god, yes. He had missed this.
"Tightest. The tightest I've ever had. Fuck. Oh, fuck." Thierry moans over and over as David sucks on him just right (he'd never admit it though), as he rubs and pulls at his balls with that strong right hand and he thrusts into his mouth, using him blindly, his eyes tightly closed. "You ask your Iker, the next time you see him. You ask him just how tight Cesc is."
David whimpers and he reaches down between his legs to rub his cock, jerking himself off again when he realizes that he's so close once more, already, so close just at the mention of--
"Iker fucks him the way he needs to be fucked. I know he does. I made sure of it. I told him just how to do it. Did you know your little Iker is probably better at fucking than either of us is?"
Thierry pulls out of David's mouth again and David pants against Thierry's smooth thigh, mouth parted and Thierry reaches down to stroke himself and they stay just like that, leaning and panting and stroking themselves and Thierry is about to explode so he angles David's head again, poising his cock right against his panting mouth, against his cheek.
"My Iker. My Iker." David flicks his tongue against the head of his cock and he fucks his own hand and he comes again, forcing his mouth to stay open to catch the thick stream that Thierry is sending in against his tongue, his eyes fluttering when it hits his cheek and drips down his jaw and he can't hear himself or he'd be humiliated by how much he's moaning, how loud and hard his own orgasm is. He sucks on Thierry a little more but he's tired now and when Thierry finally releases David's head and they both find their way back onto the couch, spilled across each other and David reaches blindly for any article of clothing on the floor to wipe his face off, his stomach and then they're being very still, deep, heavy pants the only sound in the entire building. David grunts after a moment, surprised at how much Thierry weighs on top of him.
"Wanna go again in a little bit?"
Thierry snorts and it makes David laugh and then immediately whimper for the hard slap Thierry brings against the side of his thigh.
"Fuck off. I'm an old man."
They both laugh and shove hard against each other but end up just settling back down again.
"Maybe in the morning then?"
Thierry smirks one last time.
"If you're lucky."