Mal’s fingers slink away, and Rowan instantly misses the stretch. He probably needs it, given that it’s been forever and a day since he last bottomed, but Rowan wants to feel the burn of Mal opening him up with his cock. Needs to feel something again after too long feeling nothing. Rowan reaches back, grabs the bottle of lube from the pile on the bed, and shoves it down toward Mal.

“Let’s put those hands to use, hmm? Finger yourself. Make sure you’re nice and open for your toy.”

Mal pulls away from Rowan’s hole, his heat leaving as a rush of cool air makes Rowan’s hole pucker.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” Rowan tells him, pulling him back in with his heel. “Keep going.”

Mal moans, going back to work without a fuss, his tongue hot on Rowan’s skin. The moment Mal breaches himself with his fingers, Rowan can feel it. There’s a little stutter of his tongue before he delves inside completely, fucking his tongue into Rowan’s hole undoubtedly at the same pace as he’s fucking himself.

There’s a slick squelching noise emanating from below, but Rowan has no idea if it’s coming from Mal’s fingers or tongue. Either way, it feels fucking incredible, hot and wet and making Rowan’s toes curl against the edge of the bed.

“That’s it, fuck, Mal. Should’a had you do this a long time ago.”

Mal hums against him, the vibration of his lips hitting Rowan just right. It makes him forget that he’s supposed to be doing something other than lying on his back with his legs spread in desperation.

They’ve got a plan. And that plan involves Rowan getting fucked.

“That’s enough.”

When Mal doesn’t pull back, Rowan yanks at his hair, missing the contact immediately as Mal’s jerked back with a wet gasp.

“Wanted to keep going,” Mal says, a dazed sound to his voice.

Rowan feels his eyes softening as he tugs Mal up between his legs. Brings a hand up to stroke at his cheek.

“I know. Did so good for me. But now I’m gonna sit on that thick cock of yours, ’kay?”

“Y-yeah. Yes.”

Rowan slips off the bed, his legs wobblier than he thought they’d be and his hole achingly empty with the loss of Mal’s tongue.

He guides Mal onto his back on the bed, cuffing his wrists gently and tugging them back behind his head. He fastens the cuffs to a hook underneath the bed, Mal’s hands resting delicately on the edge.

All stretched out for him, Mal is gorgeous. His abs and obliques and pecs pulled taut and on display, and Rowan knows he could spend the rest of his life running his hands and lips and tongue along each ridge and still never tire of it.