Archive of Our Own

It's easier when it’s nothing. When the hickeys and bruises are Mac and Dennis’ to notice or cover up. When they’re just bodies, colliding. Biting at each other with sharp teeth, hands held over eyes. It’s nobody’s business. It’s meaningless.

It would be easier if that were true. 

Dennis didn’t think he’d like getting slammed up against a wall. Maybe if he was really drunk or otherwise too far in his head, the pain might be welcome. But he didn’t expect it to feel good. 

Mac's got him up against the wall of the back office. The lights are off, they’ve gotta be. Not for Dennis, but it’s Mac's thing. Nothing scarier than being faced with your weakness, looking it in the eye. 

In the dark they could almost be something else. They could be lovers, kissing by candlelight. They could be people in a power outage who can’t help but hold tight to each other. They could be other versions of themselves. Ones that can stand one another. 

Dennis likes the dark too. He likes the anonymity of this. He revels in the way he can fully be inside his body and all that it is. When it’s dark. When he’s got Mac's tongue in his mouth, his hard body pressed against him. 

Mac pulls him away from the wall, practically dragging him to the floor, climbing on top of him. He holds Dennis' hands above his head, pressing them into the floor, a bruising grip on his wrists. Kissing Mac is kind of disgusting. It’s too wet, too needy. But Mac moans into his mouth when he’s not careful, Mac rubs their tongues together a bit too gently, sucks on Dennis' lips a little too softly. 

Dennis hates how much he loves it. How badly it makes him shake. His body is so traitorous in its reactions: goosebumps all over his skin, wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes, heat in his cheeks, pins and needles in his hands. 

When they’re just making out it’s bad. But when they’re banging it’s near damning. If Mac had his way, he’d fuck him from behind, but Dennis doesn’t let him. They might be in the dark but Mac is gonna face him while they fuck. 

Mac's cock is nothing to write home about, but Dennis still can’t get enough. He rips his hands away from Mac's grip, rolling them over. Mac pushes him away, frantically pulling off his clothes. Dennis does the same, snatching the bottle of lube off the desk and shoving it into Mac's waiting hand. 

Dennis gets on his hands and knees, glancing behind him as Mac slicks up his fingers. They fucked the night before so Dennis is still somewhat prepped. But it still burns when Mac eases the first finger inside him. Mac’s got these amazing fingers, knobby and gorgeous. Dennis pushes back, urging him to get on with it. 

Mac gets the message, adding another finger. Dennis bites his lip, letting out a whimper. Fuck, it’s so good. He could cum from just this, he knows he could.

Mac adds a third finger and Dennis is embarrassingly near the edge. He reaches back, swatting at Mac's hand. He winces as Mac pulls his fingers out of him, and then Dennis is pushing Mac onto his back and climbing on top of him. 

Dennis strokes Mac's cock, moaning as he feels Mac get harder, ready for him. He lifts his ass up, guiding Mac inside him and slowly sinking down. 

It’s fucking awesome. Dennis feels invincible. Mac is making the most pathetic little noises, and Dennis smiles with all his teeth, grinning at the darkness around him. Time to fuck with Mac. 

“God, are you even inside me right now?” Dennis hisses, “even your fingers feel better than this.”

He knows it’s gonna drive Mac crazy, and it does. He swears under his breath and grabs Dennis' ass in his broad hands. 

They both know it’s a lie. Mostly. Mac's fingers do feel good. But Dennis loves riding Mac. He loves it when Mac grabs his hips to slow him down because he’s gonna cum if he doesn’t. Loves the feeling of being fucked, especially when he’s fucking himself on Mac’s cock. 

“Fuck you,” Mac grunts, “you’re such a fucking bitch,” he moans, hips snapping up against Dennis. 

Dennis reaches down to hold Mac by the neck, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his flesh, depriving him of air. Mac's mouth falls open and he sticks his tongue out. God, he’s pathetic. So fucking stupid. Gaping like a fish. 

But it’s exactly what he hoped Mac would do. Exactly what he wants. Dennis spits on his tongue, covering Mac's mouth with his hand murmuring, “yeah, swallow that shit.”

He can't handle this. He lets go of his grip on Mac's neck and sucks an angry bruise there, feeling Mac writhe beneath him. Mac's hips stutter, and Dennis knows he’s about to cum. 

“You gonna cum inside me, Mac?” Dennis teases, pulling away from Mac's neck to whisper in his ear, “c’mon baby, fill me up.” 

“I–” Mac whines, “shut up, shut the fuck up, don't call me that it's fucking gay."

Dennis rolls his eyes, "So what, you can stick your dick inside me but I can't call you baby cuz it's gay?"

Mac moans, "Just-shit. Whatever dude, you’re such a fucking slut.”

The word hits Dennis, makes him hot all over, stars clouding the edges of his eyes. He's gonna cum too. 

“C’mon you pussy,” Dennis says, hating the whiny tone of his own voice, “it’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Go on, cum for me you piece of shit.”

Dennis can barely get the words out before he’s losing all his resolve, crashing his lips against Mac's in a brutal kiss. Mac licks into his mouth and it’s messy, frantic, barely even a kiss. It's everything. 

Dennis comes apart, high on the taste of Mac's mouth. These are the moments where Dennis hates him the most. When they’re both coming down, sticky and sweaty, exhausted and clinging to each other. They kiss slowly, taking their time. Both worn out but needing the feel of lips, the heat and pressure to tether them to the earth. Getting lost in each other. 

Two boys, kissing in the dark. 

Dennis knows he’s the monster under Mac's bed. A nightmare in human form. A demon sent to corrupt him. It's bullshit. Completely. Dennis should give it up. He should stop this ridiculous thing. He should have more sense, more willpower. He should do a lot of things.

But right now he’d rather die than let this go. Right now he’s close enough to see Mac’s eyelashes and the swell of his lips. Right now Mac is running his fingers through Dennis’ hair. Right now, it’s still dark, and this still could be something. Could still be nothing. 

Tomorrow they’ll trade disparaging glances in the bar. Tomorrow Dennis will stare at the dark spot on Mac’s neck and reluctantly remember how he put it there. Tomorrow they’ll both try and fail to forget. 

But tonight, they’ll go home. Tonight Mac will drive them back to their apartment because Dennis’ legs are like jelly after they fuck. 

Tonight they’ll shower together with the lights turned off, and Mac will shampoo Dennis’ hair, and Dennis will wash Mac’s body and they’ll hold each other close. The steam will look like fog in the dark and they’ll turn the water so hot it burns. Tonight they'll call each other baby, even if it's gay, even if it's too saccharine a word for either of them. Tonight they’ll kiss each other one more time, deliberate and lingering. 

Tonight will be the last time. For a while, at least. Days, weeks, maybe even years will pass between that kiss and the next. Years of misunderstanding and denial. Years of fighting and laughing and breaking and mending.

Years and years of Mac and Dennis.