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Francis Mulcahy bent to tie his sneakers. He watched and smiled as his husband did the same. He looked at their shoes and couldn't help but chuckle at the differences. They'd bought them at the same time, about a year ago, and Mulcahy's shoes looked it, worn around the edges and covered in scuff marks, whereas Hawkeye's were rarely used, and looked almost new. But it was a lovely day outside, not too hot, but not chilly, and Hawkeye was determined to join in on his husband's morning jog.
Unless the weather was rough, or he had decided instead to partake in other vigorous activities, Mulcahy would jog every morning. Though often he would bring their dog with him for company, he liked having the time to be alone with his thoughts, to not have to keep up with hands or hearing, and just exist, but there were also times he yearned for Hawkeye to join him, to share in the joy he found in touring their neighborhood.
This morning, he woke Hawkeye with a kiss on his shoulder, and a gentle shake. His cross rubbing against Hawkeye's bare back as he held him, watching him wake to point out how wonderful the sunrise looked, new light shining in the small stained glass window they had installed in their room, next to the more traditional one. He kissed him again, on the cheek, and Hawkeye's early morning stubble tickled his lips. "Oh, look, dear, isn't it beautiful?"
Hawkeye let out a groggy sound of agreement. "Yeah, hun-" He said, knowing he wouldn't be heard clearly, and turned his head to return the kiss. "S'as beautiful as every other sunrise." He reached his arm back and around his husband, yawning and turning slowly until they were face to face. "You back from your run, already?"
Mulcahy shook his head, moving to sit up, but still watching the window. "Mmh, not yet-" He began pulling off his nightshirt, catching Hawkeye's attention. He yawned and stretched as he threw it towards the hamper. "You're far too comfortable sometimes, I just couldn't bring myself to get out of bed. And it's so rare we share a day off- oh, well, I figured what's it matter if I start my day fifteen, twenty minutes later."
Hawkeye reached for his waist, making enticing little circles with his palms. He grinned and bit his lip, hesitant to pull away, but knowing he needed to. Why don't you start your day with me, sweetheart? He signed.
"Oh!" Mulcahy lit up. You want to run with me today?
It wasn't what Hawkeye had in mind, but the excitement in Mulcahy's face made it hard to turn him down. He resigned himself to his fate, and nodded. Yes. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. But don't go too fast for me, last time you were a street ahead of me the whole time!
Mulcahy chuckled, shaking his head as he stood and switched from his pajama bottoms to briefs and a pair of shorts. He spoke as he dug through the dresser, deciding on a shirt to wear. "Well, I've got no problem taking it slow, but Hester likes to run. We'll go without her."
And so they set out together, Mulcahy keeping a slow pace, as promised, and Hawkeye trailing slightly behind. He could move faster if he wanted, but he liked to watch Mulcahy in motion, admire his form and the sight of his toned legs.
By the second street, Hawkeye was feeling winded, but he stayed determined to keep up with his husband. Mulcahy had foregone his hearing aid, trusting in Hawkeye to be his ears, in case a car came by. It gave Hawkeye a good excuse to mutter curses under his breath and complain out of range of Mulcahy's limited hearing.
They took a sweaty, but uneventful route around the neighborhood, until they had returned to the end of their street. Hawkeye could just barely see the tree in their yard, looming high above the roofs of the houses. He couldn't wait to get inside, have a tall glass of cold water, and pounce on Mulcahy to exact his revenge. His mind turned with wonderfully filthy thoughts of his partner's cherubic face contorted in pleasure, his toes curling, his- "Ah- Ow! Son of a bitch, ow!" Hawkeye stumbled but kept himself from falling, and stopped where he stood, favoring his leg that had suddenly developed a shooting pain along his thigh.
Mulcahy saw him stop out of the corner of his eye and quickly turned, racing back to him. "Hawkeye! Hawkeye, what's wrong?"
Hawkeye bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut, hissing through his teeth. "My leg! Ow, Jesus!"
Mulcahy tutted and took Hawkeye's arm, pulling it over his shoulder to support his weight. "Come on, I'll take a look when we get in."
Hawkeye winced and winged the whole way down the street, yelping and shouting any time he tried to put weight on his leg. "Next time I get distracted by you warming up, remind me I'm supposed to be doing all that stuff too. Ah- Ahh!"
Mulcahy shook his head fondly. "You're carrying on worse than that time you got a pebble stuck in your sneaker. Really, Hawkeye, it's just a little cramp."
Hawkeye whined again. "That pebble was vicious, it was out for blood- I've got a scar on my heel to prove it"
Mulcahy chuckled as he guided him to their front door. He opened it slowly and closed it quickly, to make sure the dog didn't try to run out, and walked Hawkeye to the couch. Hawkeye let himself fall onto it, turning and twisting so he sat with his leg raised. He continued complaining as Mulcahy went to fetch him a glass of water, and one for himself.
Hawkeye began to rant and ramble, going on even though he knew he was more or less taking to himself. When Mulcahy returned with the water, he was still talking. "You catch any of that, hon?" He asked as Mulcahy sat on the couch.
"Not a word, dear." He said with a smile as he handed Hawkeye a glass.
Hawkeye rolled his eyes. I'll start over. I've got a very long list of complaints, you know.
Mulcahy bent and kissed his forehead, which placated him. "You won't die from a cramp, dear." But I'll massage it better anyways.
Hawkeye tilted his head from left to right, then shrugged and leaned back. Mulcahy tsked as he undid Hawkeye's shoes, and toed his own off, tossing them into a pile by the couch that Hester soon came to loyally inspect. She followed the sent of the shoes to her owners and plopped her head on the couch cushion next to where Hawkeye sat. He smiled and ruffled the fur on the top of her head. "Ah, and now the assistant nurse arrives." She stared up expectantly at him. "Francis, hon, I think she wants breakfast."
"Ah-" Mulcahy nodded, he usually fed her after his run, and she was a clever thing. "Will you survive on your own while I get her settled, or should I call a doctor, doctor?"
Hawkeye rolled his eyes again. "Alright, alright, I get it, I'll quit kvetching-" He went to sit up and winced as he moved his leg. "Maybe not quit, but I'll ease up on it."
"Deal. Come on now, Hester, let's get you fed." Mulcahy patted his leg, knowing the motion would catch her attention better than words, and led her to the kitchen.
Mulcahy returned quickly, to Hawkeye trying to move and stretch his leg, but he couldn't suppress the pained look on his face. Mulcahy sat close, and cupped Hawkeye's face with his hand. "Poor thing... it really does hurt, hm?"
Hawkeye leaned into the touch with an appeased sigh. "Aw, maybe it's not as bad as I've been making it out to be, but yeah, it really does." He punctuated this with another wince. "Feels like someone locked my leg down with clamps, and just keeps tightening 'em."
Mulcahy watched his face as he spoke, then bent to kiss his forehead. "Do you want me to massage it a bit, or do you think that might hurt?"
Hawkeye shuffled his hips, trying to raise his leg more. "A rub-down sounds heavenly, hon."
Mulcahy maneuvered himself between Hawkeye's legs, and quickly got to work, using his palm to rub flat circles on Hawkeye's thigh. Felt the rumble of Hawkeye pleasantly sighing from the attention. Hawkeye had dressed modestly, in sweatpants, and the fabric felt plush and soft under Mulcahy's fingers. He lost himself in the sensation, until a hand on his wrist roused him. "Hm?"
Hawkeye signed a quick thanks to him, then continued. Francis, I think the massage would be better if I took my pants off. More... the thought for a moment, as his signing was not as fluent as his husband's. More touch... "Uh... don't help me, I know this one." He snapped as the thought came to his hands. The more skin you touch, the more it'll help.
Mulcahy nodded. "Oh! Yes, of course. Uh, can you lift your hips?"
Hawkeye returned the nod, screwing his eyes shut as he began to pull and wiggle out of his sweatpants, sighing when he felt Mulcahy's hands begin tugging the fabric down and out of the way. He let himself drop back to the couch with a groan when he felt the waistband slide over his ankles. Mulcahy dutifully returned his hands to Hawkeye's thigh and began to knead and rub again. He could see how tense the muscle was, and ran his thumb along it, seeing it tighten and twitch, going from Hawkeye's knee to the edge of his boxer shorts.
Hawkeye melted under his touch, letting his other leg hang off the couch, reaching occasionally to poke at Mulcahy's leg with his toe, earning him a giggle and a playful swat.
Mulcahy's hands were callused and strong, and Hawkeye loved when they were on him, squeezing and kneading his tensed muscle with expert care. Really, if he wanted to, Mulcahy could be a fantastic nurse with hands like his, and Hawkeye liked to remind him of this every so often. He relished in the attention, and let out deep, pleased moans as he felt the tension in his leg ease. He tapped Mulcahy and let him know he'd be speaking.
"Mmnh... can you give me a reach around, hon?" Mulcahy tilted his head, so Hawkeye clarified. "The uh- biceps femoris- my thigh, the back of my thigh- that's where it's tightest."
"Oh, yes, here- how's this?" Mulcahy lifted Hawkeye's leg, and wrapped his fingers around the back, stroking and digging his fingers into the skin, feeling the deep, guttural sound escaping from Hawkeye as he did.
With Hawkeye's leg raised, Mulcahy couldn't help but catch a glimpse up the leg of his boxers. His flaccid member laying at rest along his leg, twitching when Mulcahy would squeeze his leg. Hawkeye's penis was no stranger to him, he slept in the nude, and often lived in the nude, relishing in the freedom their home afforded him to express his nudist fascination, but something about the candid glimpse of it lit a fire in Mulcahy's belly.
He felt his own self stir in his briefs, straining at the fabric. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and focus his attention on Hawkeye and his leg. He nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his own leg, running up towards his hip. He looked to Hawkeye with a raised brow. Had he seen the swelling bulge?
"How's your back? I know your sciatic nerve's been bothering you again, I don't want you setting it off again trying to take care of me." Mulcahy smiled in relief, and continued his efforts to soothe his husband.
"Uh, no it's fine, I don't have to tell you how good you are with your hands." Mulcahy squirmed, shifting his hips to try and adjust his situation without taking his hands off Hawkeye's leg. He turned his eyes back down, and focused intently on his task.
Hawkeye shifted again, sitting up. He put a hand on Mulcahy's head and wove his fingers into his hair, leaning close so Mulcahy could hear him, or at least most of what he said. "You remember what the muscle you've got your hand on's called?"
Mulcahy furrowed his brow in thought. "Hm? Hmm... Oh dear. And you just said it too." He squeezed again, as if the muscle itself would jog his memory. "Well, in layman's terms it's the hamstring, isn't it?"
"Mmhm, yeah, lateral on the outside, medial on the inside." Mulcahy felt his breath more than heard his words, but he was close enough that Mulcahy caught the gist.
A puff of laughter escaped Mulcahy. "Well those are easy, that's Latin. I know that like the-" Back of my hand. He grinned. "The femur is the upper leg bone- that's Latin too..." He knew Hawkeye had just said it, but his mind was elsewhere. "I'm sure this is wrong, but er... the femoral bicep?"
Hawkeye chuckled, Mulcahy loved the feeling of his laugh, feeling the warmth bounce against him and bubble up in his own chest. "You were close, biceps femoris! I'll make a nurse of you yet, Francis. Y'see, around this side is the semitendinosus, the semimembranosus, and under the knee..." he went on, listing complicated names and gesturing to his own leg.
Mulcahy thought back to all the times Hawkeye had lovingly called him out on how he was, by his own admission, often oblivious to his advances. He couldn't believe Hawkeye was this close to him, with the two of them practically in each others laps, and yet didn't seem to notice the tent in Mulcahy's pants, much less how red his face was. It was becoming a more pressing situation by the second, he tried again to adjust himself, and stifled a gasp when he felt his length slip from his briefs. He bit his lip and increased the pressure with his hands, shuddering as he felt Hawkeye sigh against his neck.
"How'd you get so good at that? Mmh, your hands are just fantastic. Right- ohh right there, I should get a Charley horse every week, I'll start lowering my potassium intake starting today." He leaned back with another content sigh, crossing his hands behind his head and lifting his leg higher.
Mulcahy felt a sense of relief wash over him, from that far there was no way Hawkeye could see the bulge in his shorts. He only wished there were a way to inconspicuously reach his hand down to shove his predicament back where it belonged. Instead, he reached further down Hawkeye's leg, caressing his calf. The change in position lead a draft of cool air from the room to reach up his shorts, and the sensation made him grit his teeth. "You don't need to be in pain for me to give you a massage, Hawkeye, all you need to do is ask." He paused for a moment, trying to think of something clever to add. He settled for- "And a 'please' wouldn't hurt."
"Well... now that you're offering, my feet have been pretty sore. Pleeaase." He said, fanning his lashes as he wiggled his foot. Hawkeye didn't know how much of a blessing the request was. Mulcahy turned away, almost straddling Hawkeye's leg, the indecency between his own now out of sight and out of mind. He took Hawkeye's foot in his hand and pressed his thumbs into the top, just under where his toes started, digging the rest of his fingers into the arch on the bottom, feeling another content sigh from Hawkeye.
Mulcahy shifted again, his predicament still unresolved. He'd need to take a cold shower after he took care of Hawkeye, that was his usual remedy for unwanted stiffness. The head of his cock twitched against his leg, heavy and tacky from sweat, if it had stayed contained in his briefs, at least it would be easier to ignore, but he'd do his best to push it from his mind anyways.
He did his best to knead the tension out of Hawkeye's sole, he really would have to do this more often. Hawkeye was on his feel all day at work, and years of shifts lasting multiple days of nonstop operating took a great toll on his body. He worked his way to Hawkeye's heel, and crept his fingers farther until-
"Oh- wh- ohh-" He had forgotten, Hawkeye's ankle was very sensitive. Hawkeye had thrashed in what Mulcahy hoped was pleasure when Mulcahy pressed his heel, and the leg beneath him bucked, and rubbed against the bottom of his pants. The friction against his sack was too perfect, and to his disbelief, Mulcahy had climaxed. Right there on the couch, still fully dressed, and without his husband really truly touching him. He shuddered through the aftershocks as the feeling pulsed through his body, his cock finally laying at rest as the last of his release oozed from him. His legs felt weak, his face, blistering hot. Slowly, shamefully he turned.
Hawkeye stared, he pointed at his leg. Wet... did you-
Mulcahy panicked and tried reaching for the discarded sweatpants to clean up the droplets of semen dotting Hawkeye' leg. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Hawkeye, I don't know what came over me, I-"
Hawkeye held up a hand to stop his fearful stammering."Hey, it-" It's fine, Francis. Look- He canted his hips, showing off the tent that had appeared in his own shorts. "Hon, call me crazy, but I think that might be one of the sexiest things you've ever done."
Mulcahy tilted his head and let out a nervous chuckle. His cock peaked out, with the head just barely visible from the leg of his shorts, and a trail of cum leaking from the slit. Hawkeye leaned forward and grabbed his hips, pulling Mulcahy towards him and into his lap. Mulcahy gasped as he felt Hawkeye's hardness against his softening, sensitive cock, it was warm and wonderful, and he put up no resistance as Hawkeye pulled up the leg of his shorts, biting his lip and admiring the view. "I didn't want to- um- well, really this was just supposed to be- be about making you feel better-" He said sheepishly as Hawkeye traced a finger along his length, and let his other hand wander up to Mulcahy's covered belly.
"Oh, honey I've never felt better." He rocked his hips, letting his restrained cock rub and tease against his husband's groin, smearing his cum on his boxers. He slid his fingers into the waistband of Mulcahy's shorts, and began tugging at the fabric. "You wanna?"
Mulcahy nodded, and watched as Hawkeye pulled down his pants, taking his briefs with them. He sighed in relief as his cock was freed, it twitched in the air, and dangled there, already starting to stiffen back up. They both knew well that Mulcahy had a bit of a hare trigger, but he was blessed with a wonderfully short refractive period. It was not uncommon when they made love, for Mulcahy to enjoy more than one climax, the first nice and early, allowing him to savor the experience as he worked his way back to full mast. "It seems I forgot how wild your Achilles tendon drives you, what a sorry excuse that makes me for your Patroclus, hm?"
Hawkeye giggled and kissed him. He cupped the back of Mulcahy's head with his hand, careful not to disturb his glasses, and pulled him down into an embrace. "Aw, I wouldn't say that. 'Sides, if I was Achilles I'd have to serenade you with a lyre, I can barely play you love songs on the piano."
Mulcahy tilted his head in thought. "Those were love songs? I thought you were just practicing scales." He put on a feigned look of confusion, then laughed, and Hawkeye barked out a laugh that turned into a honking guffaw. Hawkeye's laugh was infectious, and Mulcahy couldn't help but laugh with him. You should take your shirt off, I can see you laughing better.
"Hey, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to proposition me." Hawkeye looked demure for a moment, then burst back into laughter. He eagerly removed his shirt as Mulcahy did the same, setting his cross and glasses on top of it.
"And if I didn't know any better, I'd say one of us is still overdressed." They both looked down to where their bodies met, with Mulcahy's cock running along the curved bulge of Hawkeye's. Hawkeye looked back to him with a cocked brow.
"Boy, you sure are impassioned today." He rubbed circles into Mulcahy's hips with his thumbs. "You wanna pitch, honey?"
Mulcahy felt his ears grow hot. "Oh- mmh, well, that's not exactly what I had in mind. I think I'd like to keep... servicing you... you can just lay back, I'll get these off you, and- I'm sure you can fill in the blanks."
"Oh, I'll be filling something." Hawkeye said with a wicked grin. Mulcahy rolled his eyes and shook his head, then got up off the couch, standing on wobbly legs.
"The um... ?" He looked to Hawkeye with a pleading expression, and Hawkeye knew instantly what he was looking for.
Our bedroom, top drawer. Mulcahy thanked him. "Oh! Hey-" Dog. Maybe she should-
Mulcahy put out a hand to stop him. "The lady of the house is dining out this morning. I didn't think she'd let me take care of your leg properly, so I set her up on the porch. That way she can get her run in, too." Hester had the idea in her head that she was a lap dog, if the pair were on the couch, she was there with them, whether or not they gave her the room to join them. Even with more wholesome activities planned, Mulcahy knew she'd take great joy in getting in their way.
When Mulcahy returned with the jar of surgical lubricant, Hawkeye was fully nude, and stretched out comfortably on the couch like a content cat waiting patiently to be pet. He patted his lap, and Mulcahy gleefully accepted his invitation, straddling Hawkeye's hips, and feeling his length behind his rear.
He took Hawkeye in hand and began to stroke him, gently rutting against his soft belly. He opened the lubricant, and began applying a generous amount along the shaft. He rose onto his knees and began lining himself up, before Hawkeye stopped him with a gentle touch. "Geez, you really are hungry for it today, huh? C'mere-" He wove his hand under Mulcahy's arm, and pulled down on his shoulder. "One of us already got hurt forgetting to stretch today, let me loosen you up."
Mulcahy gasped, then nodded and let himself lay along Hawkeye's body. He handed him the jar. He nuzzled into his shoulder, delighted at the feeling of Hawkeye's morning stubble grazing his face. "My um, enthusiasm is thankfully no match for your expertise." Another gasp escaped him as he was breached by a slick finger. Hawkeye spoke, but he did not hear enough to know what was said, and could not see his face, but he felt the movement of his jaw, the lovely rumble of his voice against his skin. He let out pleased murmurs and sighs as Hawkeye gently prepared him.
Hawkeye added a second finger, and Mulcahy keened so sweetly, Hawkeye couldn't help but hold him tighter and kiss the top of his head. Mulcahy's cock was dripping with precum, and it pooled and smeared on Hawkeye's belly. His hips twitched and bucked when Hawkeye found his prostate. He pressed and massaged the gland, playing his lover like a fine instrument, relishing and delighting in every sound.
A stifled whine escaped Mulcahy when Hawkeye removed his fingers, and Mulcahy felt him chuckle at this. He pulled himself up along Hawkeye's body and kissed him quickly on the chin. Hawkeye responded by cupping his cheek, and kissing him back, pressing his tongue between Mulcahy's lips. They kissed for a moment, hungry and desperate for more contact between their bodies. Hawkeye spoke again, and Mulcahy was just close enough to make it out. "Francis- oh god baby, you drive me wild when you get like this." He kissed him again, letting his hands roam. "Lemme get in you hon, you know I need it. Mmnh, I think we both need it."
Mulcahy rose again on his knees. His face was red, his hair out of place, it stuck to his forehead with sweat, and when he moved it out of his face, it stuck up in places. Hawkeye loved when he was ruffled, it always stoked the fire in his heart. "I'd say that's a safe assumption." He reached behind him and took Hawkeye's cock in his hand. It was still acceptably slick from the gel he had applied, so he guided the tip to his entrance, and began to slowly lower his body. He screwed his eyes shut and groaned as he was breached by Hawkeye's length. He placed a hand on the back of the couch for support, and the other on Hawkeye's stomach, letting him feel for Hawkeye's moans as he watched his face.
This position was a favorite of Hawkeye's, and Mulcahy could feel why. He felt himself impaled on Hawkeye's cock, gravity sliding him down further until he felt Hawkeye's hips meet with his flesh, pressing intensely into him. Mulcahy fought to open his eyes, and the pleased grin on Hawkeye's face nearly undid him. His legs felt weak, and he keened as Hawkeye rocked his hips against him, the deep pressure filling him so intensely, all he could do was rest on his knees and try and adjust to the feeling.
You good? Hawkeye signed. You need to stop? He set his hands on Mulcahy's thighs and rubbed them gently.
Mulcahy shook his head. "N-no I-" He rose slightly, then sunk back down, grinding against Hawkeye with a satisfied groan. "I feel so full." He yelped when his movements caused Hawkeye's cock to rub against his prostate, then chuckled. "I'll never know how you manage to- uhn- to stay so well compo- composed when we do this-"
Hawkeye grinned. Lots of practice. Let me- He dug his hands into Mulcahy's thighs and began to thrust up into him. He spoke, words lost as Mulcahy threw his head back in pleasure.
Hawkeye stilled his hips, and Mulcahy looked down at him in confusion. "Are you alright?" He said, panting. "Your leg- is it?"
Hawkeye shook his head. No, I'm ok, just tired from our run. Need to breathe for a minute. He shuffled and sat himself up, and Mulcahy let out a sweet whimper as Hawkeye shifted within him. Hawkeye kissed him, then began a trail of kisses down his neck, latching onto his shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin as he drew in deep breaths.
Mulcahy felt his eyes roll back in his head, the minute movements of their frenzied grinding sending sparks through his body. He wove his arms around Hawkeye's shoulders, and used them to pull his body up, then let himself sink. The feeling of Hawkeye's cock pulling on his walls was electric, the slide out and *push* in. "Am I- *oh*- am I doing this right?"
Hawkeye grunted against his ear. "Right? Honey, you're fantastic! Keep working your hips like that, I'm wanna get a better view-" He left one last kiss on Mulcahy's jaw, then leaned back, relishing the sight of of his husband working his cock, bouncing on his lap as his cock swung and drooled. His taut stomach contracted with his movements, the firm muscles in his arms and legs were on a perfect full display, all for Hawkeye, and he loved every second of it.
Mulcahy paused, panting with his hands on Hawkeye's chest. "Goodness gracious, now I'm out of breath." He said with a chuckle. His cock rested on Hawkeye's belly, wonderfully twitching against it.
My turn. Hawkeye signed with a wicked grin. He braced himself against the couch with one arm, and wrapped the other around Mulcahy. He bucked his hips and Mulcahy cried out. Hawkeye quickly picked up a steady rhythm, pounding up into him, hitting his prostate with deadly accuracy. Mulcahy's fingers curled against his skin, unintentionally pulling at the hair on his chest, as Mulcahy's body went rigid and contorted with pleasure.
"Oh g- guh-" He whimpered and mewled as Hawkeye continued to pound up into him. "H- Hawk-" Hawkeye watched him closely, then gripped Mulcahy's cock, squeezing the base to hold off his orgasm. He yelped and shuddered, bucking into Hawkeye's hand. "Ah- H-Hawkeye?" He looked to Hawkeye's face, knowing very well his hands were too busy to sign.
"Oh no, hon, not yet, not just yet." He taunted with a playful smile. "I'm not done reaming you out, and I don't want you getting too sensitive if I let you spill your spunk again so soon." He let his thumb stroke Mulcahy's cock, and relished in the way his face twitched.
"It's- ha- I'm sensitive now, Hawkeye!" Mulcahy glistened with sweat, squirming and rocking against Hawkeye's body. He let out a low groan. "I still feel so close-" He leaned forward, rubbing his face into Hawkeye's shoulder, their sweat mingling in their skin.
"Aw, you need it so bad, huh baby?" He pistoned his hips, picking up speed and trying his best to aim for Mulcahy's prostate, the whimpers against his chest told him he was doing quite well. "Alright, I won't stop you anymore, let it out." He wrapped his arms around his husband and held him tight. Mulcahy shuddered and keened, his hole was like a vice on Hawkeye's cock, squeezing him for all he's got. He let out a groan of his own right against Mulcahy's ear. "That's it honey- oh god, just like that, Francis."
With a shout, Mulcahy tensed up again, and spilled himself on Hawkeye's belly, frantically jerking his hips to rut against the soft skin and ride out the high of his orgasm. "M-me." Mulcahy said quietly as Hawkeye fucked the last spurts of cum out of him.
"Unh- speak up, hon, I can't- oh god I'm close-" He buried his nose in Mulcahy's scalp, breathing in the scent of him. "God, you feel fantastic. What did you say?"
Mulcahy took a deep wavering breath. "Fill me-" And that was all it took to push Hawkeye over the edge. He yelled and rammed his hips against Mulcahy's and flooded him, his cum filling him up and seeping out from around Hawkeye's cock, sticking between his cheeks and running down Hawkeye's balls. He pulled out, and they laid there together, twitching and panting. Mulcahy laid his head on Hawkeye's chest, he reached one hand weakly towards his head, reaching to run his fingers through his hair, and dragging his other hand in lazy circles on hawkeye's chest. "Mmmh." He let out a content sigh.
Hawkeye ran his hand along mulchay's back, stroking and petting him. "Wassit s'good for you s'it was f'me?" He slurred with exhaustion. When Mulcahy did not respond, he spoke again, a bit louder and with an attempt at more clarity. "Good?" Mulcahy nodded and hummed, blissed out.
"Oh, very." He kissed Hawkeye's chest, and again closer to his shoulder. "And you? I mean- your leg, is it... "
Hawkeye chuckled, his breath flowing through Mulcahy's sweat damp hair. "Mmhm, you did a real number on me." He reached down and cupped Mulcahy's ass, causing him to yelp and giggle. "Gave me just what the doctor ordered."
Mulcahy rolled his eyes. "And does this doctor ever order anything else?"
Hawkeye hummed in thought. "Well, you know, I am running low on my prescription for kisses."
Mulcahy groaned. "Oh, Hawkeye, that's terrible even for you." He kissed Hawkeye's chest under him. "Mm, but we can't have your prescription run out, can we?"
Hawkeye held him tight, a dopey, pleased grin plastered on his face. "Mmh... we should shower before Hester starts barking." He kissed him again, chaste and satisfied.
"She hasn't already?" Mulcahy asked with a chuckle. "We should though, I'm sure I smell terrible, all sweaty and worked up like this."
Hawkeye took a deep breath through his nose. "Oh, are you kidding? You smell fantastic. Eau d' Francis, my favorite." Mulcahy answered with another laugh. Hawkeye joined him, but squirmed under him until his head was tucked into Mulcahy's neck. "No foolin'!" Another deep breath, and a kiss to Mulcahy's shoulder. "You smell like home, and happiness, and- and love, all that good stuff."
Mulcahy raised a brow. "Hawkeye, I smell like sweat."
"Yeah, and your sweat smells like you, just, y'know, concentrated." He nuzzled against him with another kiss. "But we should get in the shower before this stuff gets nasty." He patted Mulcahy's arm, queuing him to rise. Mulcahy winced and grimaced as he sat up.
"That was quite the- er- vigorous workout." He chuckled. "I'm not sure what came over me, I just-" He leaned against Hawkeye slightly, and patted his arm. "It's a very unique feeling, I think, to share our love like that. Sometimes it just gets so... intoxicating."
Hawkeye smiled and pulled him into a hug. "You're not so bad yourself, hon." Hawkeye suddenly sat up straight. "Oh damn, speaking of intoxicants- uh-" He stood, and looked around the room, then back to Mulcahy. I'll meet you in the shower. I need to take my medicine. He bent and kissed him, then made his way to their room.
"Oh, don't let Hester in until we've cleaned the couch!" Mulcahy called out to him, and shook his head fondly. He picked up their discarded clothes, careful not to drop his cross, or loose it in the bundle, and headed to the shower.