theprettymarine | [voice test]

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frank

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Billy didn't know how to name the feeling he had when Frank married Maria. He was happy for his friend, for both of them. He did everything a best man was supposed to do, and then some, because he would be damned if Frank didn't have a decent wedding, even if it was a rush job. Because Maria was pregnant. But Frank was happy and that was what mattered.

But something did shift in him as he watched his friend take his vows. No one sticks around. Maybe that wasn't totally fair - Frank was his brother, they were Marines, and they would share things that no one else did, and that was okay. He didn't need anything else from Frank. He didn't deserve anything else.

They had some leave before their first deployment, which was how Frank managed to get married at all. And after Frank resurfaced from his brief honeymoon, Billy was happy to meet him for drinks.

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"Jesus," Frank breathed. He squeezed Billy's hip tightly, hand sliding down to his thigh to lift his leg a little bit. "You're a fucking menace. You want it that badly?"

Because Frank had had other ideas. He was definitely going to slip it to him, but he'd been thinking of other things first. But if Billy wanted it that badly, he could be persuaded.

His cock already ached and his breath caught as Frank grabbed his thigh. Billy groped for the lube and probably almost hit Frank in the face with it when he passed it back over his shoulder.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah Frankie, I want you that bad."

It was less a pass and more of a toss, and Frank laughed breathlessly. He squeezed Billy’s thigh briefly and then took his hands off him, just long enough to assess, to assure. He didn’t want to hurt him. He considered the string of condoms lost in the sheets and Billy’s long, lean body, and then slicked himself bare. His fingers grazed him briefly, spreading lube. God, he was still slick and easy.

Frank groaned as he nudged, slowly, into him.

Billy pushed his face against the bed, muffling a moan as Frank's slick fingers rubbed over him. Fuck. Fuck, it really was going to be that easy, wasn't it? He arched his back, moved a little to try and make it easier as Frank pushed in, so fucking slow.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, eyes closed. "Holy shit, Frank." He reached back, grabbing the back of Frank's neck just to hold onto him as his cock sank deeper.

It was slower now, less urgent than it had been. Frank focused on the feeling of it, the slow, hot weight of their bodies pressing together. He pushed in and put his hands back where he wanted them, one in Billy’s hair and the other on his thigh to hold him gently open.

He kissed at his neck as he bottomed out. “You feel good, baby. There you go. Good boy.”

He lolled his head a little when Frank's hand pushed into his hair. He tried rocking his hips back as Frank held his thigh, and it felt so fucking good.

"Fuck," he sighed, a faint grin tugging at his mouth as he spoke. "Killin' me with that sweet talk, Frankie."

“You want me to stop?” Frank asked, teased. His hips were a slow push and pull, the slightest movement, seeking the best angle. He tugged at Billy’s hair a little, lengthening that angle of his neck a little. Goddamn, he looked fucking spectacular. Frank felt his cock twitch inside him. “Or do you just want less sweet and more filth?”

"Don't stop. Don't stop any of it." If Frank wanted to whisper sweet nothings or filth in his ear, Billy would take it all. He bit his lip, breath caught the next time Frank's cock slid just right.

"Fuck you feel so good."

He kept his hands on Frank and on the bed to keep from touching himself just yet. They didn't have to rush this time. There was no need.

Frank smiled against Billy’s ear. Everything was just good, hazy and warm and slow in that moment. He didn’t rush, just let his hips move how they needed to to feel good, to get that sweet noise out of Billy.

God it was perfect, the way Frank moved was just right and Billy swore he saw stars a little. He whispered another curse, breathless as he moved to meet the next push of Frank's hips.

"Jesus, Frank--"

He pushed his face against his pillow and his fingers tightened against Frank's neck.

“That’s it, baby,” Frank breathed. “That’s it.”

He wanted to keep talking, to be full of sweet talk or filth, but really, all he was full of was soft, needy sighs and groans as his speed picked up just a little bit. His fingers dug into Billy’s thigh, a rough, needy grip. God, he felt good.

"Fuck, just-- fuck--"

He could't even articulate, not when Frank was making those sounds behind him. Frank's fingers dug into his thigh and Billy found himself hoping it bruised.

He finally touched his cock, stroked himself a little as Frank pushed into him. Billy still felt like he could be half asleep, everything warm and a little fuzzy, brought into sharp focus by little things: the pinch of Frank's fingers, the perfect fucking slide of his cock, his voice against his shoulder.

Frank moved his hand up from Billy's thigh and wrapped it around his cock as well. He didn't stop Billy's hand from moving. Rather, he slid his fingers between, helped that slow, aching stroke, so it was the both of them working together. Even though they weren't working hard or fast, he didn't think he was going to last very long, not with the way that Billy felt. It was a little embarrassing.

"Fuck, baby." His hips sped a little, got a bit more aggressive. He was seeking now. Billy felt too fucking good.

Frank's angle and speed changed, and Billy swore he saw stars. His breath caught and he couldn't find words, he could only moan as he tried to meet every push of Frank's hips, making sure he got as deep as he could on every thrust.

He didn't even manage a warning this time. He pushed his face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound he made as he came. He made a mess over their fingers and he got tight around Frank with another, sharp moan.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, Bill. That's it, good boy," Frank breathed, working his way through the clench of his body, through the twitch of his cock and the messy feeling of it over their fingers. He stroked him through it. Billy's hips were still moving, even as he made a mess of himself. Frank groaned softly in his ear.

Billy swore his cock gave an extra twitch at that gruff praise. He shivered as Frank got everything he could out of him. "Shit, Frank--"

Frank's voice against his ear was fucking perfect, all of this was. He couldn't believe it was real. "Lemme feel you," he breathed. "C'mon, Frankie, lemme feel you."

It barely took anything at that point. Frank was already almost there. So Billy’s sweet, needy voice and the way he moved? That was a reckoning, an undoing. Frank was done, and it wasn’t just because Billy was begging him for it. He was done and he’d known it for months.

He put his hand back in Billy’s thigh as he fucked into him, fucked him through it, to the end. It was good and hazy and slow, and because he was bare, he could feel the way he spilled into him. He gripped Billy’s hair and tugged gently.

“There you go, good boy,” he growled. “There you go, that’s for you.”

Billy was almost on his stomach with Frank's weight bearing down on him. It was perfect. He felt another delicious little shudder as Frank growled in his ear and pulled his hair. He arched his back, pushing his ass against Frank's hips.

Good boy.

It wasn't fair how that got to him.

"Jesus, Frankie."

Billy looked good, sprawled and boneless and easy like that, and Frank was practically on top of him by now, enjoying the feeling of him. He lingered as long as he could but, god, he’d woke thinking of something else and now he still was.

He eased out of Billy slowly. “Hold still, beautiful,” he murmured, already missing down his spine. “Stay right there.”

Billy pushed his face against the bed, dazed as Frank pulled out of him. He made a quiet, protesting sound but Frank was already shushing him, kissing down his back. He worked on catching his breath and hiccuped on it when he realized where Frank was going.

His whole body was humming, warm and perfect, and he almost felt like he could fall asleep again.

When Frank reached Billy’s ass, he paused briefly to suck a bruise up on one cheek. But he was moving once the mark was made, spreading Billy’s cheeks and pressing his mouth to him. He went slow and lazy, tongue a deep thing, chasing the taste of himself.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped when Frank's tongue teased over his hole. His hips jumped and he could feel the mark Frank left throb faintly. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this. He moaned and tried to get his knees up under him, tried to give Frank more room, or more ease, or--

Maybe it'd be better if he stayed down, but he kept his thighs spread as Frank worked and he swore his cock tried to wake back up.

Frank grabbed at him, gripped tight, and dug his thumb in against the meat of his ass. He groaned softly as he worked at his hole. But Billy was squirming and moving, and Frank wanted him easy.

He shushed against his skin gently, really pressed into eating him out between the soft, soothing sound.

Frank's hands were perfect on his hips, digging in against him in a way he knew would leave bruises. He'd see Frank's fingers all over him tomorrow.

And that fucking shushing - that sound haunted his wet dreams, ever since Frank first did it in some corner of the barracks.

His tongue felt good, and Billy was intimately fucking aware of the fact that they'd just gone bareback and he'd been real into it. And now-- now Frank's tongue was in his ass, cleaning him, eating him the fuck out and he was going to get hard again if he kept this up.

Even after Billy was cleaned out, Frank lingered on him, licking and sucking obscenely, until the next time that he looked at him he was all pink and slick and completely obscene to look at. He flushed a little. He'd never really been good at filthy talk, but looking at Billy's ass like that conjured all sorts of pornographic filth to his mind.

He sighed and rested his forehead against Billy's hip for a moment.

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