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I'll be your new wife	By : Katv Category: Digimon > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2620 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon or any of the characters within. I make no money on this work.

Chapter List
- 1-The Promise
- 2-Anniversary
- 1
- 2
Dinner, he had planned, was going to be perfect. It was going to be his favorite – creamy beef stew with thick slices of french bread. Flowers were on the table, candles were waiting to be lit, all that cheesy shit. The set up would have made Mimi's romance novels proud.
They would meet at the door, he would take his lover's coat and show off the nothing he had on under his apron. They would kiss and promise “later” with a wink. They would eat, probably, and then hurry off to bed to drive the neighbors crazy with their noises.
Of course, what actually happened...
Matt grabbed the edge of the counter, digging his fingers into the granite-colored vinyl. He groaned deeply and burrowed closer to that intoxicating scent. That wonderful smell of smoke and cologne. Shaking fingers had managed to unbutton the wrinkled shirt, only able to slip it down to his elbows. Malcolm was between his legs, the thin apron the only thing preventing their bodies from touching. He had his hands around his son's waist, pulling him closer as they rubbed together eagerly.
Malcolm moaned, lowering his head to kiss Matt deeply, pressing the boy harder against the counter he'd been set on. He loved the wonderful taste of his son, how clean he always was. How Matt could stand to kiss an ashtray like him, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to question it. Fire was radiating from his thighs as Matt pulled him closer, wrapping his legs around his father's hips. Oh, how desperately he wanted the young blonde.
Matt murmured eagerly as warm lips moved to his neck. Malcolm's stubble scratched at the sensitive skin of his throat, sending eager tingles down his spine. A hot tongue caressed him, lapping at the salty sweet taste of his flesh and Matt whimpered. He'd been cooking all afternoon, standing in the heat of the kitchen that was designed without a vent. He'd really wanted to shower and get clean, but the moment Malcom had seen him, it was all over.
There had been no subtle teasing, no delaying pleasure. Hell, the pot was still on the stove, bubbling away.
“I need you,” Malcolm groaned, taking Matt's ear between his teeth. He'd noticed before the tiny hole, a single piercing that his son had gotten long ago. He pressed closer, rubbing their hips together. “I need you, now...”
“Th-the room...” Matt murmured, gasping as the gentle nibble turned into a harsh love bite.
“Takes too long.” There was a wet stain on the apron and Malcolm moved it aside to reveal the twitching erection hidden below. It leaked eagerly, a thin trail of white connecting his son to the cloth. Malcolm ducked low, rough lips wrapping around the dark head.
Matt cried out, reaching to grab his father's hair. A hot tongue slipped over him, swirling around and tasting the familiar salt. Malcolm probed the sensitive slit, finding the all the wonderfully responsive spots he'd long since memorized. He still wasn't as good as Matt was, unable to take more than a mouthful at a time, but he kissed and licked up and down the throbbing shaft, drooling slightly at the taste. Matt was whimpering and moaning, clenching his thighs around Malcolm's shoulders. His father's whiskers scratched wonderfully, and every long lick made him cry out.
“Dad...” he called breathlessly. Malcolm responded by moving lower, pressing his nose against his son's aching balls. He pulled one into his mouth, sucking eagerly. “Fuck, Dad, I need you...! I need you!”
Malcolm was leaning over him suddenly. Their lips met up once more and Matt could taste himself, only vaguely aware that he was still so overwhelmingly stiff. His father's erection rubbed against his entrance, slickened only by saliva and his own escaping need. Malcolm groaned, enticed by the thought of taking his son like this, of the tight friction that would come with only the barest of preparations. But he could never hurt his son, and he reached out blindly to grab the closest thing to him.
Thick, dark oil spilled down his front to stain his hastily unzipped pants. His hands shook with barely restrained desire and Matt glared, telling Malcolm, “Hey, that was expensive!”
“I'll buy you some more,” Malcolm said and Matt snorted.
“Like you could afford it.” The older man pushed forward, spreading Matt's legs further and the blonde groaned. His head fell back as the tip pressed against his entrance, slick and ready now. Matt wrapped his arms around Malcom's neck and bit his shoulder to muffle a scream as he was penetrated, being filled suddenly. There was no time to adjust, the tight heat already driving Malcolm crazy.
The man grabbed Matt, cradling him to his chest, and pressed his nose into soft blonde hair. He groaned, a deep and lusty noise, and began pumping in and out. He slid so easily, and every time he drew back he only wanted to be buried in that wonderful warmth again. Malcolm pounded Matt hard enough to make the cabinets rattle, the boy's screams of pleasure drowning out the sound of the spice rack falling to the ground.
“More!” Matt cried, nails digging into Malcolm's back. His legs hurt with how tightly he squeezed them around his father's waist and he bit a dark bruise on Malcolm's neck. His father's length pulsed inside him and he clenched tightly, enticing a low groan from the man above him who continued to thrust. He pressed against Malcolm's chest, hearing his heart beating faster, fluttering with the same throb he felt in his own. Together, like this, there was nothing that could draw them apart.
“Matt,” Malcolm whispered, the word a gentle rumble in Matt's ear. “Oh, Matt!”
Malcolm stepped closer, almost slipping in the spill at his feet, and his head dropped. He clenched his teeth and screamed a groan as he stiffened completely. Matt whimpered, feeling the sticky heat of his father's orgasm fill him. His own length twitched and a trembling hand found it. A rough thumb swiped over the head, smearing the clear liquid and Matt groaned as he was squeezed. Agonizingly slow, the hand moved up and down, drawing out more of the pre-release to decrease that wonderful friction. A tired twitch of Malcolm's hips made his son groan and that was all the encouragement he needed.
Still hard enough, Malcolm moved again, pulling out almost completely before shoving deep inside. Every twitch Matt made, every jerk of his hips, made his already tingling length pulse, and Malcolm tightened his grip on his son's sex. The boy was screaming, writhing in ecstasy, every thrust of Malcolm's hips only adding to the fire building in his stomach.
“Dad, I'm gonna...!” was all the warning Malcolm got before Matt collapsed into him. Thick spurts of white coated the man's hand and stomach and the sudden tightness and flare of heat was enough to draw him to a second orgasm, spilling out and dripping on the counter.
They stayed like that for a long time, Matt shuddering still and huddled close to Malcolm. The man could barely support himself, but he was scared that if he moved before catching his breath that he would slip in the mess he'd made.
Slowly, very slowly, Matt sat back. He felt the tired twitch of his father's length before it was pulled out. The boy whimpered as he leaked, a flush of embarrassment as he caught the still-eager look in Malcolm's eyes. He was kissed, warmly, passionately, and he gave in for a moment before slapping the man away.
“Jerk,” Matt breathed, trying to still the quiver in his voice. He glanced over to the pot on the stove, finally noticing the foul stench coming from it. “Look, you made me burn dinner. And it was a nice one too; not just curry.”
Malcolm made a face when he looked at the stove. If their smoke alarm had any battery left in it, it would have gone off long since then. “I'm sorry. I didn't know you were cooking something special.”
Matt blushed and looked away. “It's our anniversary...”
Malcolm smiled. Only his son would be romantic enough to celebrate a two-month anniversary. He kissed the boy on the top of his head, chuckling at the irritated grunt he received. Then again, he could be romantic too.
“I remembered.” He reached down for his pants that had fallen in the mess at his feet (it would be easier to just toss them at this point) and pulled something from the pocket. A tiny box he'd spent more on than he felt he was worth.
“For me?” Matt asked softly. It took a moment for his hands to remember how to work, and he took it with Malcolm's nod. Inside lay a golden hoop, a tiny glittering diamond suspended in the middle.
“It would look odd if you started wearing a wedding ring out of nowhere,” Malcolm whispered, helping his son pop the latch. “So I got you the next best thing. A wedding earring.”
It slid just as easily into his ear as anything else Malcolm had. The weight was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable, and Matt blushed at the warm smile on his father's face.
“Man,” he complained, reaching up to kiss Malcolm. “Now I'm going to have to do better than just dinner.”
The older man kissed back, light touches on Matt's cheeks quickly turning into harsher, more passionate things. “I can think of a few things you can do for me...”
Matt groaned as a tongue invaded his mouth, leaving him tingling and breathless. “Just not on the counter again – it's gross and grimy. And let me turn off the damn stove before we burn down the apartment.”
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I'll be your new wife