"Because you give good head despite being a moron," Ivar says bluntly, breath getting a little more rapid as his cock is stroked. Really, who knows why he hangs around Agustin so much? Perhaps it's because they're both so odious that no one else will have them.
"Dude, like a ton of people give good head," Agustin grins at him and he leans in, his tongue dragging over the head of Ivar's cock in a bit of a crude show.
"Maybe I'll go-- hnngh--" He groans at the feeling of Agustin's tongue on his cock. "--go find one of them to hang out with instead. Then you'll have to find someone to pay to hang out with you."
"Mmm," Agustin hums with an exaggerated sound against the other's tip before wrapping his lips around him and taking him deeper into his mouth after that. Cheekily, he looks up at him and just rolls his eyes.
Honestly, if Agustin wasn't likely to accidentally bite down, Ivar would smack him for that. This is why letting an annoying person have any control over his dick when it was extremely vulnerable was a bad idea. So he just slumps back in his seat and lets Agustin carry on as usual.
The Molly is starting to kick in now, so he's feeling pretty good right about now. Agustin really does have the good drugs.
Agustin smirks inwardly when Ivar finally just relaxes and he redoubles his attention on his cock. He sucks him in deep and then pulls back his tongue teasing over the tip. Agustin's hands slip under Ivar's shirt, pushing it up slowly as he spreads out his fingers over his stomach and the ridges of muscles.
Ivar lets out a sigh which turns into a groan of pleasure as feeling Agustin's attentions to him. He licks his tongue all around his mouth at the sensations he feels on his cock. He reaches out a hand and grabs Agustin's many-colored dreads in an affectionate manner, pulling on them roughly.
It's things like the way that Ivar grabs at his dreads, the affection that is mixed in with that roughness is a thing that Agustin craves. Ivar's not the most affectionate friend but Agustin can draw out the moments that sate the craving that he's addicted to and rather deprived of.
He reacts by sucking Ivar's cock more enthusiastically. His hands caress higher, dragging his nails over Ivar's stomach a few times.
Ivar hisses as the nails rake across his skin. He enjoys the pleasure mixed in with his pain almost as much as he enjoys giving it to other people. His cock is aching now to an almost painful degree and he's close to coming. He pulls again on Agustin's hair, knowing that the other teenager likes
Agustin moans again when the other pulls at his hair. He knows that he's doing it on purpose which turns him on all the more. He keeps sucking him eagerly, the drugs he's on making it hard to stay still. He continues to touch Ivar, scratching his nails over his skin as he sucks him harder and deeper.
He draws the other all the way to the hilt, swallowing around him and trying to milk his release from him greedy as he is.
Ivar finally comes, shooting his load into Agustin's mouth. He's sure the other will swallow rather then spit. He's had a lot worst things in his mouth then a bit of jizz. He sits back, relaxed as his whole body goes completely limp.
Agustin swallows Ivar's release, moaning around him once more as the other's orgasm fades away. There's some licking he does around the other's cock and balls afterward, crawling up onto the couch and relaxing. He licks his lips with a satisfied grin.
Ivar's calm and relaxed (for once) thanks to having his dick sucked and getting high on drugs. He pats Agustin on the head affectionately like he's a good dog. "Do you have any beer around here?" He asks.
Agustin is more than happy with the affectionate pat and he doesn't care if it might be a little belittling in a way, perhaps. He snorts at the question as he stretches.
"Course I do," he said. He doesn't get up right away to get it, though.
Ivar waits a few moments and then nudges Agustin impatiently. "Then go get it, peasant!" It's a good thing these two are friends. No one else would have them.
"I have brittle bone disease and therefore should be moving as little as possible. Therefore, it's your job to move!" He shoves Agustin again, this time shaking him slightly to try and get him out of whatever stupor he'd fallen into.
"Ugh, you only bring that up when it's convenient for you!!" Agustin huffs and elbows Ivar. "Y'know, one of these days I'm gonna make you suck my dick before I play fetch!"
Is that supposed to be a threat or something? Who knows with this guy. He does reluctantly go to retrieve a pack of some stupidly expensive beer, dropping it unceremoniously on the coffee table in front of the couch and then pulling them both out one.
"Of course. This is why I win all arguments and you don't," Ivar says smugly. It was easy to get people to do what he wanted by playing the poor, pathetic little cripple who needed everyone else to do things for him. Not that Agustin saw him as such. He just bullied him more then anything into doing what he wanted.
He cracks open a beer and clinks it against Agustin's. "Cheers, peasant."
"You're a peasant because I am clearly better then you," Ivar says smugly. He's as close to royalty as one can get in this day and age, so he'll forever lord himself over Agustin.
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The Molly is starting to kick in now, so he's feeling pretty good right about now. Agustin really does have the good drugs.
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He reacts by sucking Ivar's cock more enthusiastically. His hands caress higher, dragging his nails over Ivar's stomach a few times.
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He draws the other all the way to the hilt, swallowing around him and trying to milk his release from him greedy as he is.
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"Course I do," he said. He doesn't get up right away to get it, though.
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Is that supposed to be a threat or something? Who knows with this guy. He does reluctantly go to retrieve a pack of some stupidly expensive beer, dropping it unceremoniously on the coffee table in front of the couch and then pulling them both out one.
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He cracks open a beer and clinks it against Agustin's. "Cheers, peasant."
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He takes a long drink of his beer and slouches down more into the couch.
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