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The dull chatter of the radio drowned out most of Mike's thoughts as he hummed absentmindedly. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he contemplated the rest of his day; what to do for dinner, whether or not he wanted to watch a movie, and so on.
For a brief moment, he almost, somehow, forgot about the other man in the car.
"What're you thinking about?" Michael asked, and Mike blinked and then sat up straighter, dispelling his idle musings.
"Nothing," he said automatically. "Just thinking about what to do once we get back."
Michael shook his head in faux reproach. "It's not good to drive distracted, Mikey."
"If I'm going to be the one driving, I'll drive however I damn well want," Mike snarked, a jab the fact that Michael didn't have a driver's license, but under his breath.
Michael didn't take kindly to the sass. He never had, really. Mike knew that, but continued to push his buttons.
That's how Michael knew he'd like what came next, despite the protests he was sure to receive.
"Oh, by all means then, drive however you want." A hand crept over the center console, slyly making its way to Mike's thigh. Michael squeezed, relishing in the sharp inhale it drew from the other man.
Mike licked his lips before responding, a small quirk that let Michael know he was already getting to him. Oh, how he loved just how easy Mike could be.
"I'm trying to focus, Mi-ichael." Mike tried his best to keep his voice steady, but nearly tapered off into a whine when Michael's hand moved further up his thigh, groping all the way up to just beside his crotch.
"I don't see why you couldn't focus," Michael said innocently. "After all, weren't you just daydreaming on the road and doing fine?"
"First of all, I wasn't daydreaming! And second of all, that's way different from this, and you know it!" Mike exclaimed.
"Don't raise your voice at me," Michael murmured, and his nails dug into the fabric of Mike's pants just a little bit, reminding Mike of just how close that hand is to his groin. As if Mike needed another reminder.
"You know this isn't fair," Mike tried to argue. "What if I cra-ahhhhhh-" His voice cut out as Michael took the opportunity to squeeze the slight bulge in Mike's jeans.
"You talk too much," Michael sighed, as if deeply disappointed, and his hand pulls back just slightly, resting on Mike's thigh once again.
Mike made a breathless, frustrated noise, and Michael tilted his head.
"What, Mike? I thought you wanted to focus. I'm letting you focus. In fact..." He went to remove his hand altogether, but with a quick glance away from the road, Mike grabbed Michael's wrist and pulled it back to his leg.
"No, don't stop," Mike said breathlessly, and then wrinkled his nose before adding in a very quiet, "please."
Well, how could Michael go without rewarding Mike for being so polite for once? He allowed his hand to remain where Mike had placed it, kneading his fingers into Mike's skin like it was a massage. A massage intended purely to work Mike up and remind him that Michael's touch was so close and yet so far away.
"Eyes on the road, Mike," Michael chastised him, and Mike tore his eyes away from Michael's hand to try to navigate them back home.
"S-sorry," he stammered, and Michael couldn't help but notice how tightly his hands gripped the steering wheel.
Michael cooed a response, moving his hand further up to palm at the growing bulge in Mike's jeans. Light at first, then harder, purposeful. Mike could come like this, Michael knew from experience.
But he wouldn't let him.
Mike actually whined as Michael's hand slid back down his leg, tracing his nails down the inside of Mike's thigh.
Mike sighed in relief as they came to a stop at a red light, leaning back in his seat and letting his hands twitch at his sides as Michael drags his nails back up his thigh now.
"Tease," he whispers, but Michael can see by the look on his face that he lives for this. That first time Mike had brought this up, the idea of Michael taking him anywhere and everywhere, Michael had chalked it up to a horny heat of the moment fantasy.
It wasn't until Mike had actually began encouraging his wandering hands in public that Michael had begun to believe him. Michael would rest a hand on his lower back, and Mike would guide it down to his ass. Michael would plant a quick kiss to Mike's cheek, and Mike would beg him "lower" until Michael was sucking a hickey into his neck.
To Mike's disappointment, they only had so much time to spare at the stop.
"Light's green," Michael said with a grin.
"I can see that," Mike snapped, foot pressing down on the accelerator with perhaps a little bit too much force, jerking the car forward.
Michael's hand squeezed again with an uncomfortable amount of force both at Mike's tone and the fact that he wasn't controlling the car properly.
They were lucky that no one was behind them as the car stuttered once again, Mike's foot slipping off of the gas pedal for a moment as he gasped.
"I thought you always insisted you could handle this sort of thing?" Michael said. "I've barely even touched you, and you're already hard as a rock and two seconds away from crashing us into a telephone phone."
"I am- I can handle this," Mike stumbled, but he straightened his posture again, eyes fixing on the road with a new determination. Michael's glad, for once, that Mike liked doing chores so far away from home; they had plenty of time. Plenty of time for Michael to bring Mike to the edge of breaking.
"Oh, good, I was starting to get worried," Michael purred, and he resumed his motion, palming and kneading gently at the denim that covers Mike's erection. His slender fingers moved up, undid the clasp of Mike's pants, but then they just sank back down to continue with the through-the-pants action.
Mike was breathing heavily through his nose, and Michael watched with an animal predator's fascination as a drop of sweat began to bead on his forehead.
Michael lessened the pressure, until he knew Mike could barely feel it, and it made Mike moan with frustration, body twitching as he tried to fight the urge to buck upwards.
His eyes still didn't leave the front, to his credit. Michael was frankly surprised that Mike hadn't already begged Michael to let him pull over so Michael could rail him in the backseat. That's happened. More than once.
But today, Mike seemed determined to stay the course, probably hoping for a more comfortable fuck in the privacy of their own home. Not that Mike really seemed to care about privacy.
Michael leaned over more until half of his body is across the center console, his breath tickling Mike's ears as he murmured, "You're lucky I didn't feel you up in that store like I wanted you. You probably have even lasted this long if I had."
"Wh-why didn't you?" Mike's voice was scratchy and Michael loved it.
"Because I knew you expected me to," Michael replied with a grin. "And that's too easy, isn't it? I can't have you predicting what I'm going to do. Even if I do love seeing you squirm with one of my hands down the back of your pants."
"Jesus, Michael."
Mike finally slipped up, bucking his hips as Michael's touch grows light again. The action planted his feet down, and the engine revs as the car speeds up to an unreasonable speed on the suburban road.
"Mike," Michael scolded warningly, smacking Mike's thigh a little too close to his cock.
"Sorry!" Mike bit his lip and frantically tried to brake. A little too hard, however, and they both lurched forwards in their seats again. Michael almost wished he'd just pull over.
"Mmh, pretty sure that was a stop sign," Michael said dryly, glancing back at the four way stop Mike had sped through.
Mike just groaned, eyes locked on the road as he tried and failed to drive like a normal functioning person. If there had been any cars behind him, they might think he was some odd day-drinker behind the wheel.
Michael tugged down the zipper on Mike's pants next, lamenting the fact he'll likely never get to blow Mike while driving. How fun would that be? To cockwarm him and edge him along? Not letting him pull over until they're home?
Michael smiled at the fantasy, but decided to let it remain just that. Mike looked a wreck already, with just a little groping through a thick layer of denim. Michael was sure they'd actually die if he tried anything more. Oh well.
He traced the outline of Mike's cock under what he can reach of his boxers. Mike couldn't exactly take his pants off while driving, and Michael knew better than to make him try.
"Should I pull over?" Mike finally asked, clearly growing overwhelmed with Michael's touches.
"Why ever would you do that?" Michael feigned innocence, shoving more of his hand into Mike's jeans and feeling him up properly through his boxers.
Mike's whole body shuddered, and all he was able to respond with was a whine as he fought to keep his eyes open and fixed on the road ahead.
"We're almost there, you can deal with this, right?" Michael's fingers cupped the firm shape of Mike's dick.
"I-" Mike's voice broke. "Yeah. Almost there."
"Almost there," Michael echoed back, and he nipped gently at the shell of Mike's ear, a reminder to pay attention.
He took a little bit of mercy on Mike for a moment, only slowly caressing what he could reach, allowing Mike to catch his breath, if only slightly. And thank God he did, because the next light they stop at had a cop car sitting at the stoplight to their left, and Michael was almost certain Mike would have blown straight through this red light as well if he'd had Michael's hand down his pants.
Michael knew Mike had seen the cop from the way his shoulders tensed, but he was also keeping Mike a little distracted.
"You'll be fine," Michael told him. "Nothing's wrong here, right?"
Not that the cop could really see them anyway.
Mike mumbled something about "broad daylight" and Michael just tsked at him, giving his cock a warning squeeze through the boxers.
"Speak up, or don't speak at all."
Mike swallowed harshly, glancing at Michael before returning his face pointedly to the red light, silently willing it to turn green.
Since Mike had clearly taken the latter option, Michael filled the silence himself.
"You're doing so good for me, Mike," he practically purred into Mike's ear as the car began to move again. Michael was so close now he had to shrug out of his seatbelt for comfort. Probably a bad idea with how jerky Mike had been stopping the car, but they truly were almost home. Michael could count on one hand the number of turns required to get home.
Unfortunately, distracted as he was, Mike missed one.
He recognized his mistake immediately, groaning as Michael nipped harshly at his ear.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." he muttered the word over and over as he pulled into a random driveway to turn around, as if "sorry" would save him from what Michael had in store for him once they were home.
Michael didn't say anything, didn't even attempt to squeeze Mike's dick, and he could tell that it made Mike more nervous than if Michael had snapped at him.
"Sorry," Mike whispered again as he backs out into the road.
"How about less talking from you, and more driving?" Michael's voice is sweet and dangerous.
"I'm trying." Mike's tone was part petulant whine.
"And right after I was telling you how good you were. That's a shame, isn't it?"
Mike opened his mouth, thought the better of it, and just settled for a nod, gaze unmoving from its place straight ahead. He didn't miss the road back onto the route, and Michael started palming Mike's dick more intently again as a sort of reward.
Mike somehow managed to make the next few turns with only minimal erratic movement, even as his teeth bit down harder and harder into his lip to stifle the noises he wants to make. Michael was half-tempted to tell him to stop that and let Michael hear him, but there would be plenty of time for that in a moment.
Then they were on their street, and Mike could see the house, and Michael clearly felt the way Mike's cock twitched in his boxers.
"Aw, cute," he mocked, just to see Mike's face flush. "Are you really that excited for this?"
Mike nodded, fast and jerky.
He was going to be a little disappointed by what Michael had in store. But Michael sure wasn't.
The moment the tires were all the way in the driveway and the car was pulled forward a remotely reasonable amount, Mike was flipping the ignition off with a shaking hand before he immediately thrusted his dick up against Michael's hand, desperate for release.
"Can we-" Mike's head jerked towards the house. His voice was breathless. "Please."
"Why? We started it here, why not finish it?" Michael tugged at Mike's jeans with a sadistic glee. Finally, all to himself.
"W-what?" Mike's breathing grew heavier, more frantic, and his face scrunched in displeasure. At another tug from Michael's impenitent hands, he lifted his hips, allowing his jeans to be tugged down his thighs.
Michael was rewarded with a beautiful sight he'd been imagining the entire drive. Mike's boxers were tented, an impressive wet spot at the tip from where his cock was practically drooling.
"I think I like the car. It's cozy." Michael swallowed Mike's protests with a kiss, tugging him over roughly by the hair. Mike tried half-heartedly to break away a couple times, still panting from earlier, likely struggling to breathe. Good. Michael much prefers him stupid, dazed, and oxygen-deprived.
Eventually though, Mike did actually need to breathe, and Michael took the opportunity to slink into the backseat.
Mike just turned to peer back at him, like he still couldn't believe what was happening.
"Well?" Michael started impatiently, unzipping his own pants and kicking them down his legs. "Get over here."
Mike did so clumsily, barely fitting between the gap in the seats to begin with, but hindered further by the jeans still around his knees, and his sensitive erection brushing against his boxers. He fell on top of Michael with a cry.
And Michael was there to catch him, tutting once again at Mike's clumsiness as he pulled the shorter man in to straddle him.
Mike seemed to find it in himself to protest one last time. "But I made it home...?"
"You made it home. But you also blew through a stop sign, threw us both around the car, and took a wrong turn. That doesn't seem like the sign of a very responsible driver, does it?"
Mike's face was pure desperation. "I almost didn't, I was doing so much better."
"Well, we can either do it in the car, or you can put your pants on, we go back inside, and I don't touch you for the next three days."
Mike didn't hesitate. He knew by now from hard experience that Michael meant it when he says something like that, so he just leaned forward and his mouth clashed against Michael's, needy and enthusiastic.
Mike pressed himself forward until his and Michael's erections were flush with each other's bodies, and he was already groaning into Michael's mouth. Jesus. Michael really had done a number on him on the road.
Michael pulled away after he deems Mike's had a sufficient amount. "Since you did manage to make it home with us and the car in one piece, I will be kind enough to allow you to choose what you want me to do to you. Don't waste this."
If Mike could have gotten harder, Michael was pretty sure he'd topple over with the lack of blood to every other region of his body.
Mike's fingers twisted in the bottom of Michael's t-shirt as he blurted out, "Ride you, I want to ride you." Clearly he'd had something on his mind.
"Are you sure? You look like you might cum if I look at you too hard."
"Yes, I'm sure, please, Michael, you said I could choose."
"I did," Michael said gently, patting Mike's arm in an attempt to get him to slow down. "Alright, hand me the lube."
Mike eagerly twisted to the center console, yanking it open and grabbing the small bottle; the low level told the tale of many an experience had in this backseat.
Mike shuddered, trying desperately not to think about their past in the backseat. He might actually cum in his underwear.
Michael took the lube graciously, guiding Mike to strip off his boxers and bend over for him. It took some maneuvering, and Mike didn't quite fit all the way on the backseat, so he ended up with one leg thrown over the seat and one knee planted on the floorboard. He felt cramped, but unfortunately embarrassingly hard at the thought of Michael taking him in their driveway in broad daylight like this.
Michael said something Mike was sure was supposed to be reassuring before plunging a finger inside him.
Mike hissed and clenched down around Michael for a moment at the intrusion before forcing himself to relax with a long exhale.
Michael made a pleased noise as he works his finger a little deeper, and Mike felt a second one slipping in beside it. He wasn't complaining at the pace, honestly. He thought he might explode if Michael tried to take his time.
"More," Mike grunted, shoulders tight as he leaned forward so his forehead rests against the inside of the door.
Michael's free hand gave his ass a swift slap and Mike choked at the unexpected sensation, but it just made his dick leak even more. "Don't tell me what to do."
"Sorry," Mike mumbled, distracted by the fact that Michael was currently stretching him wider. His fingers were prodding gently against the inside of Mike, testing, before he finally found the spot he was looking for, the one that made Mike cry out before he could stop himself.
"There we go," Michael said, all satisfaction. He withdrew his fingers, and Mike suppressed a whine, knowing what was coming next would be much better.
Sure enough, he heard the rustling of Michael shedding the very last bits of clothing, and then there was something blunt and heavy pressed against his hole.
"Breathe," Michael said in a tone that was probably meant to be helpful as he bore forward, and Mike did exactly that, breathing through the burn and stretch until it morphed into pleasure.
He waited for a long moment once Michael was fully sheathed, then yelped as Michael delivers another swift slap to his ass.
"Well?" Michael asked, nails digging into Mike's hips with impatience. "Ride me."
Mike nodded dumbly. He'd nearly forgotten what he'd asked for, blindly submitting to Michael in the vulnerable position. He felt like a total slut as he rocked forwards, realizing only now that he's still in his stupid shirt and socks. He'd only removed enough clothing to get Michael inside him. It was filthy, desperate, and oh-so-perfect as he slammed himself back against Michael's hips with a moan.
As much as Michael liked to pretend he was unaffected, he let a grunt slip out at Mike's relentless pace. He resisted the urge to lean over, wrap an arm around Mike's neck, and fuck him until he emptied all over the backseat.
No, he'd promised Mike this, and he was going to let his toy have fun pretending he could finish himself off on his own.
Even if he knew it would take about two minutes before Mike was begging Michael to touch his dick and push him over the edge.
Mike fucked himself against Michael's cock like this was the only thing that would save him, and soon the lewd sounds of skin on skin and lube sliding between them were accompanying short moans from Mike and staggered breaths from Michael.
"Michael," Mike whimpered out, and Michael finds himself struggling to hold himself back again, wanting to provoke that same wrecked voice over and over and over and over again.
Mike moved with an animal intensity, angling himself so Michael's dick hit into his prostate with each thrust, making his own cock jerk between his legs with each solid hit. Michael was pretty sure that if he'd looked, he'd see a small puddle of precum forming beneath Mike's body.
Mike's arms began to shake with exertion as he got more and more desperate, squirming with each downthrust, and rushing each movement up so he could slam back faster, harder.
Michael couldn't resist resting his hands on Mike's hips, not guiding, just feeling Mike move, and with a couple of minutes that brought about the exact thing he'd predicted.
"Fuck, Michael," Mike stumbled out, "can you- please touch me, please, I'm so close."
"What was that?" Michael couldn't resist playing with Mike just a little longer, even if he was looking forward to feeling Mike get tighter and warmer when he came over the backseat.
"Please, please, just put your hand on me, I-" His voice cut off in a strangled moan as Michael indulged him, wrapped his hand around Mike's dick and stroked him hard and fast, the way he knew Mike liked it when he was close.
Within maybe half a minute, Michael could see Mike's fingers try to dig into the material of the backseat, and then he was gasping out something incoherent that amounts to a warning that's he's more than close now, that's he's there.
"Fuck, yes," Michael hissed under his breath, the hand that wasn't on Mike's dick tightening on the soft flesh of Mike's hip and making Mike gasp.
Michael groaned as Mike tensed up, creating more friction for Michael. Mike's moans mixed with Michael's noises and his cum splattered over the seat, but Michael didn't even really register that. He was pushing in deeper, as hard as he can, once, twice, three times, and then that was it, he's done and he's gone. He let out a broken sound that was pure pleasure as he hilted himself inside Mike, pumping the man beneath him as full as he could.
Mike's breaths were loud and half-whiny as they both came down from their respective highs. Michael noticed as he tuned back in that the windows of the car had fogged up, and wondered if anyone had seen the car rocking. He half-hoped not, and also half-hoped they had.
"How was that for a reward?" Michael said breathlessly, resting one hand on Mike's stomach, right over where he knew his dick was.
Mike nodded, gulped in a breath of air, and replied, "Good. Great."
"And what do we say?"
Mike's eyes narrowed and he scowled, but Michael could see how he was still affected by it, and not in a negative way. "…thank you, Michael."
"Excellent," Michael smiled smugly. "Maybe next time I'll give you the honor of fucking on a mattress."
Mike sighed, perhaps a little dramatically, "Ugh, please, my back always kills me after this."
"You're not an old man yet, you can't pull that on me." Michael rolled his eyes. "You never seen to have a problem with your back when you're rubbing up on me the next day."
Mike's mouth twisted in embarrassment. "…touché."
Michael patted Mike's thigh and then finally pulled out, watching with a sort of proud fascination as his cum leaked out of Mike's hole and onto the seat. Then he grabbed the wipes they also keep in the center console and set about wiping the car and both of them down. Mike helped where he could, and then gingerly pulled his clothes back on.
"We should do that again sometime," Mike said, clearly trying not to sound eager as Michael tugged his own pants back on.
Since they've fucked in the car before, Michael assumed Mike meant forcing him to make it all the way home. "Mm, maybe. I like my body in one piece."
The both of them knew that Michael has the full intention of doing it again.