Summary: You and Michael don’t get along at all. As the stars would have it, you two are paired for a class project. What you didn’t expect was how alike you two are. Lost and worried and perhaps a little sexually frustrated. You work together to fix that right up.
Explicit. Enjoy, my loves! - xoxo
Michael just shook his head and rolled his eyes beside you, choosing silence here.
"Seriously…?" You dropped your shoulders, swinging your gaze over to the blue haired boy. Michael’s lips stretched to one massive smile.
"I…what are you smiling about?"
"It’s hilarious how pissed off you are," Michael said around the fucking lollipop he had in his mouth, staining his tongue a bright red.
"Look. I’m not thrilled about this either y/n. But we have to do it so…quit whining," he punctuated his words with yet another eye roll and a lick of the candy.
Then he was walking out, leaving you to stand by the project partners list posted on the white board.
"Okay so…we have to make a powerpoint on the effects of consumerism on society so I was thinking…." you trailed off as you watched Michael close his eyes. He was lounged on your ottoman in your living room because the boy insisted you both work at your place. Which was fine…it was just peachy. If only he would actually listen.
"Michael? Are you listening?" You sighed and decided the best way to stir him would be to clap your hands really loud…right in his face.
"Good afternoon and thank you for joining me, Clifford." You’re laughing and don’t feel one fucking ounce of pity for his scrunched up face of pain.
"Jesus fucking Christ, you’re just a joy…aren’t you?” Michael affronted while rubbing his eyes again and again.
"Whatever…you were falling asleep and we have to work on this! Seriously…I don’t know why you have to give me such a hard time."
Michael blinks at you, the way you sort of deflate. So stressed from all of this and it shows. You know it does. Sure…people called you obsessive about your grades and thought you were just some “over-achiever”, but they were just judgmental pricks. Like Michael. They didn’t know how much you needed to get into college…to be the first one in your family to make it there. Needed those scholarships. And fuck this, getting paired with the one person at school you just couldn’t stand.
You didn’t know exactly when the whole “enemies” thing started. But there was the conflict with Michael’s affinity for being the class clown and you preferring a quiet learning environment. Maybe it was his pranks or his crude jokes or that he was your next door neighbor and always played his music so fucking loud….
But you digress.
Plain and simple…Michael Clifford was sort of an ass and you needed an A in this class. In every class. Needed a full ride because mom couldn’t take another job. You couldn’t take another job for fuck’s sake….it was all too much.
And here Michael was…catching some Z’s.
"Hey…are you…alright?" Michael asked, his voice alarmingly soft. Disturbingly so, in fact. You blinked, turning to him to see his hands folded on his lap. Calm.
"What…are you okay?” You countered, swiveling on the cushion to face him.
"Uh…what is that supposed to mean? You’re the one looking like your cat just died." Michael is so animated when he speaks, big hands circling the air around him. His sharp canines poke into those plump lips…and huh, you never noticed how big those things were. But why would you? You avoided this kid whenever possible.
"Oh shut up…I just…you’re freaking me out. Sitting all calm and shit and…that’s never you, Michael.”
"Says you, like you know me," Michael says around a scoff, voice oh so throaty. He’s twisting the bracelets he was wearing furiously around his fingers, eyes cast downwards to his black combat boots.
"Well…true. I guess I’m just going off all the times I’ve heard you screaming out the word "balls" or…oh I don’t know…singing Nickelback so loud I can’t study in here."
And Michael…well, he laughs. Not at you or in a mean “shut up I hate you” kind of way. He just…laughs. His cheeks squish up and his eyes have little crinkles around them. His lashes are thick and curled into one another. His hand comes up to ruffle that deep blue hair.
It all has you smiling back, not noticing that you’ve leaned a little closer until he brings his head back up, facing you. You’re both still laughing when Michael swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, flickering his gaze down to yours.
The wierd thing after that is the quiet. Your house has never felt so damn still as it does right now…with Michael pressing his elbows into his knees. And you don’t now which one of you it is but your bodies are getting closer. Maybe it’s both.
"I’m….well I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stress you so much," Michael says around a bite of his wet lip, tugging slow and that definitely has to stop. He smells like that sweet ocean air designer’s put into a bottle. That good kind of cologne that most boys at your school just couldn’t seem to find. And fuck, his damn eyes are so green.
"It’s fine, I….I just have a lot so lose ya know?" You stop quickly after that, casting your eyes down from Michael’s. You couldn’t believe you were confiding in him. But some big part of you, right in your chest…felt warm and right about this. You’re looking down at your hands when Michael’s lay softly over them, holding.
"I do…I mean…my parents think I’m a fuck up and they’re half right." He pauses to chuckle and you feel a stab to that warmth in your chest. You didn’t know anything about Michael’s family or home life. But that sounded pretty sad…
"But I care. I do care…a lot."
You peek up at Michael to see that he’s just watching his thumb rub soothing circles into your skin. Again…and again. You don’t mind at all.
"I wouldn’t have…known that." You whisper to him, offering a kind smile as if to say not that you don’t seem smart, but hey, let’s forget all the times I called you an idiot.
The boy so close all you had to do was arch your back to press against just half smiled. There was this look in his eyes that filled that part of your chest back up. It was relative…maybe the lost look in his eyes was more like yours than you ever thought. He was just as gone and scared…as you.
And he didn’t care.
"Life’s kinda too short to, I don’t know," Michael shrugged and breathed out a shaky laugh, hands squeezing yours.
"Worry about worrying…right?" You supplied, lacing your fingers up and around his wrists.
"You’re not so bad, maybe…" Michael’s voice is trembling.
"Thanks," you scoff and just take that leap, leaning forward and nuzzling your nose against his. "So I’m gonna kiss you."
Michael’s minty breath is silky as it drapes across your lips, almost in contact.
"Oh, please do.”
And you’re laughing into his mouth and Michael has his strong hands wound around your waist, tugging you in like his canines on his lips.
"What…the fuck….are we doing?" You giggled in disbelief as you allowed Michael’s pull, straddling his lap on your couch. Thank god your mom was working late.
"Fuck if I know…you’re the smarty pants," Michael said around a suck of your skin, underneath your right ear. "You tell me…"
"Shut up," you replied breathlessly, just trying to catch it as he slid his tongue flat along you. A wide path down your throat led Michael’s plush lips to your collarbone. His teeth sank in as sweet as icing and as padded as the pillows you were pressing him into. Your fingers knotted in his soft blue locks, yanking suddenly as he pushed his thigh right in-between your legs.
"Ow!" He laughed, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in those big foresty eyes.
"Stop-ah…" But you had to stop talking about the second that Michael plucked you up by the hips and set you down at his knees. Right as he dragged you deliciously down his charcoal skinny jeans, the friction slow and dripping. Something like the fog rolling over the hills in the morning out of your bedroom window.
"Stop teasing, Clifford.." You somehow manage to pant as Michael guides your pelvis down and against his thigh in sickeningly perfect circles. All you can seem to do is shove a shaking hand into your hair and lick at your lips. Overwhelmed and needing so much more at the same damn time.
"Have you ever? Are you…fuck…" You can’t seem to get a fucking sentence out, Michael was working you so hard and great, things like words were becoming more of a mystery. Michael blinks at you, knowing what you were trying to ask, and looking very intrigued.
"Am I a virgin? No."
"O-okay…I’m…I’m not either," you get out and expect a remark from Michael. A joke or a surprised expression…but when you pop your eyes open long enough to blink away the blurs, you don’t see any of that.
Michael is looking at you with eyes chalk full of thought, care, and plans. Those minty eyes aren’t thinking up a sly comeback at all…he’s nodding slowly and reaching up to stroke at your cheek.
"Alright. However you want to…or whatever you want…to do…" Michael is stumbling a bit over his words even as he looks sure in front of you. His hands covering your hipbones causing chills up and down your spine.
He’s nervous. And he’s okay with whatever you want to do. You wanted…
"I want you to fuck me."
You follow your words up with throwing your head back and feeling the end of your hair tickle at his knuckles. His thigh flexes and circles with your heat, the part of you he’s controlling. You willingly giving it to him.
The flicker in his eyes brings you to the soft sheets of your bed, peeking through the blinds to catch a falling star. Waiting for the disguise of sleep, the pitch around you so dark nothing seems so scary after all.
Michael’s pierced brow raises with the bite of his lip. It’s glistening with his saliva when it pops back into place. Not so scary after all.
"Then I’ll fuck you good, gorgeous girl."
"Oh, ouch, fuck-"
"Michael!" You giggled, so flustered and flushed as he carried you through your bedroom doorway. Michael wasn’t so coordinated with it however, stumbling into your bookshelf and sending a paperback atop your heads.
"Sorry! You just make me so hot baby," he chuckled, cheeks bubblegum pink, hands holding you up from underneath your thighs. There’s a moment of noisy breath and mussed up hair that has you two just looking into the other’s eyes. Michael cocks his head back with a sudden mewl of laughter. His eyes have never looked more sparkling. You need to say that aloud.
"You’re beautiful," you whisper, nuzzling forward and into his cheekbone.
"Baby…" Michael is sputtering into your hair, fluttering the fine locks beside your temple. Already sweating.
"Babe, you’re a dream."
And as Michael breathes those words into your chest and shoulders, filling you up with the relief of it all, his hands throw you up. Just a little bit to bring your center crashing into his, hands catching your ass. Squeezing hard enough to leave his artful fingerprints. Your lips attach to his, all spit and fiery tongue, his rasp injecting into your gums.
You’re not sure how long you two are kissing for, hot and nearly spent against the back of your door. But when Michael pulls away, one strand of spit connecting your lips, his eyes cast down to your hips. The dart of his tongue breaks the web between you two, and he twirls around.
The bed is all fluff and ticklish promises of pleasure as the tall boy above you fidgets with the hem of your top. You growl out your frustration and handle it by surging forward to grab at his shirt as well. He works faster, taking your shirt off just before you grip the material at the nape of his neck and slide his clean off as well. Spreading your legs as wide as they can go, still in your shorts, you have Michael by the shoulders. Getting closer and closer.
"Fuck you’re hot, so fucking hot y/n."
"You’re not so bad…maybe…" you reply coyly, all red cheeks and knit brows. You smile so big you felt the lines around it deepen in your skin. And fuck had it been a while since you felt like this. Just happy and silly and…free.
"Copy cat,” Michael spat out just as he thrusted so deep and hard, dry humping into you. Over you. His hard on straining the material of his jeans and rubbing against your crotch.
"Ah! Fuck. Michael…” All you can think to do is buck up, seeking more, and you get it. Michael is right back with his thrusts, back flexing, muscles rolling underneath your hands. His hands are fisting the sheets right by your ears. And fuck, he just keeps grinding and grinding filthily hot and intimate but without that skin on skin contact. Something you needed. Now.
"Baby, baby,” Michael huffs out right against your ear as one of your hands shove into his pants, palming him through his boxers. You make quick work of his zipper and your hand finds its purchase on his cock. His hiss of air through his clenched teeth tells you that he needs this just as much as you do. He whimpers while rubbing himself down in little figure eights, chasing and chasing.
"Give it to me bad boy,” You say just as you grip his cock, feeling the slick weight of him, letting it take your mind to places you’d never gone before.
Your other hand comes up to lay flat against his throat, pressing up for pressure. Michael’s eyes lock with yours. His hips still but deep against yours.
"Give it to me fucking hard.”
Michael’s pupils are blown to leaking pools into the green, set on fire. His smirk returns after he takes a few seconds to gather himself. A lick of those canines, you’re kissing him hard, tongue dominating his. All in your hands before he has your shorts shucked down to your ankles, along with your panties, in a blink.
”Shit,” the rush of cold air shocks a delicious spark to your heat, so needy for him. His smirk only gets wider, more cocky. You roll your eyes and shove your lower half into his. Which is still clothed. Unfair.
"Get naked you cocky bastard."
"Bossy bossy.." Michael clucks his tongue but does as he is told. His belt clattering wonderfully loud against the wood of your floor.
"Now come here," you demand, aware of your pout and damn proud.
Michael is giggling as he crawls over to you, hovering. His cock is huge, long and so achingly hard, bobbing between his full, milky thighs. Leaking at the tip.
And he’s gentle as he rubs two fingers against your folds, so wrapped up in your gaze as he brings them back up, glistening with your wetness. He’s not looking anywhere but into your eyes as he licks at his fingers. Lapping and humming, satisfied with how you taste. It’s fucking, overwhelmingly…perfect.
"A beautiful taste for a beautiful girl."
And sooner rather than later, Michael is three fingers deep inside of you, the sound of his skin on your drenched pussy so obscenely right. The drag of his knuckles to your walls and his middle finger curving up to that spot push you way past the point and you need all of it.
"Michael..M-Mikey…" You squeak out through the breathless grunts and whimpers you’d been spitting into the air for the past ten minutes. Michael sniffs and just nods, still staring at your pussy, watching his digits disappear and reappear.
"Okay. Okay…do you have condoms?" He asked, looking up with such adorably pink cheeks. You felt your chest clench at the sight, wanting to sit up and kiss each one. "Drawer..right…over there…" you moan out long and rough as he leaves your body, feeling empty and cold.
"Slow….okay? You’re fucking huge…" you said to him as he guided his tip to your opening. "Of course, y/n. Of course….you guide me."
And you do, reaching down to take his girth into your palm, fingertips circling the throbbing head to your pussy. You start to take him in, breath bated and body indulging in the soft stretch he brought. “Good?” He asked, eyes scanning over all of you. Every inch.
"So good…I’m…I’m ready. Go in all the way baby."
You’re breathless and gasping for more as he slowly slides in. The mild pain is replaced completely by the wave of ecstasy toppling over you both. Bodies giving in to the drip of heaven in tandem. Michael is shaking above you with the wait. Waiting for the nod. You give it to him after a few moments, fingernails digging into his shoulders and teeth sinking in right at his first thrust.
"Okay?" He questions, turning his face down to examine yours.
”Fuck…it’s so fucking good Michael. Harder,” You squeak once again, his collarbone absorbing the sound, wet from your spit.
His thrusts find a cadence of slow and so gorgeously deep. The bed at a low squeal of protest, your legs trembling and wrapped around his hips. Crossed at the ankles. He goes faster and harder, the wall taking it from the bed frame bang after bang. You know he’s close when he presses his sweaty forehead against yours, hands grabbing at the iron frame, knuckles white.
"Baby, come for me," you whimper and growl at the same time somehow, that need to see him crumble above you seeps through the cracks. Everything in your room seems on fire and your bodies the refreshing breeze, hissing through the trees and whipping you awake from your stupor. Michael’s body grinding into yours, filling you up to the hilt and going harder and harder…just like you told him to. You were at the edge with him.
"So close," Michael is panting out as his hips get sloppy and so quick the squeaks of the bed become one constant stream. His neck is dripping his effort into your palms as you hold him. You clench around his cock tight and feel the cord inside of you snap. Your orgasm is white clouds, puffy like his lips. Police sirens screaming at the criminals, the night’s sky so flattering and invisible.
Yours is all it takes to bring Michael’s on as well. His face is scrunched up, twisted in the pleasure and intense burst of his load into the condom inside of you. So hot and chaotic, you clench harder around to milk this boy dry, body sizzling at the sight of him rubbing in and out. His eyes are fluttering, locking at your body below him, mouth wide open and letting out pornographic groans. Your name is all he seems to recall.
"Fuck, baby girl…” Michael breathes into your neck as he rests above you on his elbows, still buried deep.
"I know huh? Baby boy…" you giggle, fingers stroking at his scalp, running through his sweat drenched locks. One of his hands trails along the dewy skin at your hip.
"Welp…" He starts, voice airy in post orgasm bliss.
"We work well together," He finishes with a smirk, you can feel it against your cheek.
You’re laughing so hard your stomach aches then, Michael rolling over and bringing you into his arms. And his laugh is so sweet, his hands so gentle. His heart so calm against your back as you close your eyes and just lay there together.
"We do," you say after you know he’s fallen asleep. Somewhere untouchable in his dreams, wether that be good or bad. You didn’t know.
You didn’t know Michael, but shit, it was getting dark and the sky was doing that pinky sunset thing you so enjoyed.
And fuck it, you two had plenty of time to get to know each other.
You were neighbors after all…