Thoroughly distracted, he didn’t even notice that Damon had slipped a hand between them until there was suddenly a finger pressed right there – against the pucker of his hole. It wasn’t doing anything other than sitting there, a tiny pressure against his most intimate place, but it was enough that Micah had to tense his thighs and lock down on the pressure building behind his cock. “Fuck, Damon, fuckfuckfuck.”

Micah could have cried when the man pulled himself off his cock. “Hm, you’re still talking.”

That’s all the warning Micah got before the man was suddenly flipping him over onto his stomach and guiding (manhandling) him onto his hands and knees. “Wh-what-?” Micah asked, but he choked on the rest of the words – whatever they were going to be – when Damon palmed the globes of his ass and separated the cheeks.

“Beautiful.”

An involuntary shudder made its way down Micah’s spine at Damon’s breathy proclamation.

And then a hot mouth was right there.

Micah yelped at the sensation, knowing it was coming and yet wholly unprepared for the feeling of a broad tongue lapping at the crack of his ass. Overgrown stubble brushed against his cheeks as Damon buried his face into Micah’s ass, sucking the little pucker of his hole into his mouth.

Micah’s stomach swooped at the sensation.

“Oh, Jesus, God, fuck, frickin’ Pope Francis,” Micah babbled, mindlessly throwing out whatever religious figures his strung out mind could conjure, “don’t stop.”

Damon didn’t stop.

He wriggled his tongue into Micah’s asshole, spearing him with it until Micah was an absolute mess, barely holding himself up on shaky legs while making half-moan/half-gasping sounds that would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t in the midst of getting his ass eaten out by someone with a tongue as talented as it was wicked.

“You taste like fucking candy,” Damon breathed against him, and Micah moaned helplessly at the words. Then something a little firmer than a tongue was probing at his hole. A finger, Micah recognized dazedly, when he felt the tip of it push inside him. And then Micah gave up on thinking all together because the finger slipped all the way in, and Damon was fucking slurping around it.

“Damon, please!”

“Please what?” Damon asked, voice like gravel, his finger still knuckle deep.

If Micah could concentrate on anything other than that and the fact his dick was a hard, unyielding ache between his legs, he would have attempted some snarky remark at the blatant teasing. As it was, he’d been reduced to mere one-word responses. “More.”

Micah thought he might die when instead of giving him what he wanted, Damon withdrew his finger, and backed away. He let out a truly pathetic whimper. “No…” he said, whining into the mattress. He wasn’t even sure when he’d buried his face in it.