Miguel purses his lips, his face growing hot at the telltale sign of blood rushing to flush his cheeks. He watches Miles, the way he’s illuminated by the screen, watching a movie he probably doesn’t even like, only for Miguel’s sake.
Miguel’s mind falls apart as it does every time he is consume with the urgent desire to kiss Miles. He goes through the same conflict, allowing his eyes to travel down to his mami’s lips, and tiptoeing the line of inappropriate.
Amidst all the internal images that suddenly take over his mind, he doesn’t immediately notice when Miles turns to look at him. Miles is pouting, and Miguel feels a throb both in his chest and somewhere lower.
He’s not entirely sure how long he’s staring before Miles finally seems to notice his rather intense gaze. He turns to face him, and then they’re close enough that Miguel feels his breath on his chin.
“You okay, mijo?” Miles asks, visibly concerned. Miguel wants to sooth away that preoccupation, preferably with his tongue in between his mami’s legs.
“I’m fine.” Miguel feels himself smile, only looking back up to look at Miles and nod.
He can see the confused look on Miles’ face in his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t question it, like always. Miles simply accept his son’s weird behavior and chucks it up to puberty and hormones.
In reality, Miguel wouldn’t even know how to kiss properly. He knew it would feel wrong to kiss anyone else but his mami, but he still wanted to be good for when it finally happens. Miles has done everything to ensure Miguel has a good life, so in Miguel’s books, he deserves all of his firsts.
Speak of the devil. When Miguel finally turns to focus back on the movie, there are two people passionately making out on screen. He sees how they press their mouths together, and how they lick at each other’s teeth and lips. He wonders if it’s really like that.
Then, he wonders if his mami likes it that way.
He glances back at Miles, who’s suspiciously interested in the almost nonexistent subtitles. An idea manifests in his head, and before he can turn it over once or twice, Miguel is already voicing it out loud.
“Hey, mami?” His voice has a soft tone, one he is always made fun of for using with his parent, but he couldn’t care less. “Is kissing actually like that?”
He sees the way Miles’ body goes rigid for a moment, before it relaxes again and he smiles sheepishly. “Oh, well… it depends, you know?”
“I don’t, not really.” Miguel insists, cocking his head to the side. Miles looks up at him, eyebrows lifted in surprise, as if he’d just realized something.
“You haven’t had your first kiss?” When Miguel shakes his head, Miles seems to consider his answer. “But – Mig, you’re so handsome! How come? I’m sure many people would want to.”
“It’s not that… I just don’t know how to kiss yet. I don’t want to mess it up.”
“You wouldn’t!” Miles chuckles, moving closer. He places a hand on Miguel’s thigh and the other on the side of his face. “You’ll get there over time.”
“Could you…?” Miguel licks his lips, warm and fuzzy at his mami’s touch. “Could you maybe teach me?”
“what?”
Miguel swallows when Miles’ touch falters as he instinctively jumps back. All the courage drains from his body at once, and he realizes what he just asked. Sure, the few embraces he’s given Miles might be inappropriate, but it could be played off as simple affection. Pressing a kiss to his neck each morning is a bit riskier, but Miles hasn’t protested. But this?
This might’ve uncovered something Miguel didn’t want to expose just yet.
“I just. Trust you the most.” He eventually breathes out, still unable to take his eyes off of Miles. “Please, mami?”
Miles makes a few throaty noises that Miguel slightly suspects could be words, but they die before they leave his mouth. He’s looking at him through furrowed brows, as if trying to decipher the strange language Miguel might be speaking.
“Miguel.” Miles ends up whispering, and then exhales shakily. “There’s probably someone better you can ask. I’m – your my son.”
“I know. I know it sounds bad, but I don’t really trust anyone else.” Miguel slurs it all together, too embarrassed to speak properly. “Peter – I mean, he hasn’t kissed anyone, so he’d be bad a it anyway. And Jess? I’m gay, it’d be too weird.”
Miles nods through it like he’s considering it, and it might’ve just set Miguel’s entire body on fire.
“Mig, I just…” He shakes his head and worries his lower lip in between his teeth. “It’s kinda inappropriate? I’m not saying that I don’t want to, it’s just that there could be someone better for this, don’t you think?”
“But I trust you to do it! Not someone else.” Miguel knows he’s being bratty, asking for more candy when he’s already had more than enough. But it’s never enough. “I’d rather get done with it now, than embarrass myself in front of some guy.”
“Okay.” Miles’ shoulders sag with his defeat. “Yeah, okay.”
Miguel fights the urge to fist the air in victory, simply staring at Miles, waiting for instructions. He can already feel the desire surging through his veins, his body jittery with anxious energy. Despite knowing this will be his first kiss, Miguel foolishly hopes it’s the best one his mami will have.
“What do I do?” He questions, when Miles doesn’t say anything.
“Stay there. This angle’s good.” His hands returns to the side of Miguel’s face, and his fingers are trembling under his ears. He’s shifting closer, adjusting his position so that he’s almost on Miguel’s lap.
For a moment, they simply stare at each other. Miguel’s gaze is flickering between Miles’ eyes and lips so much that he’s getting dizzy, and he’s hands are sweaty on his mami’s thighs. Miles licks his lips, visibly restraining himself from fidgeting.
“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He announces, but doesn’t press their lips together just yet. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, mami.”
Miguel doesn’t register the throb that his cock gives when he says this, admittedly aroused at the situation. Their lips connect and it’s a simple, chaste kiss. It’s closed-mouthed, a bit messy because Miguel’s is overenthusiastic too quickly. Miles sighs against him and rubs his thumb over his cheek and it has Miguel melting.
When they part, Miguel’s brain short-circuits, and he can’t fathom any words, so his mami does it for him. “Was it good?”
Miguel nods eagerly, but feels something deeply unsatisfied in his lower stomach. He reaches to keep Miles’ hand against his face and asks, “But how do you kiss like they did in the movie?”
“Oh,” Miles says dumbly, before he recovers. He breaks eye contact, lowering his gaze to watch where one of Miguel’s hands is inching closer towards his waist. “Well, that kind of kiss is different for everyone. You’ll have to figure out what they like on the spot.”
“How do I know what they like?”
“You see how they react.” Miles chuckles, most likely reminded of his younger self upon hearing Miguel’s questions. “They’ll probably… make more noises when you do something they like. For example, I like it when someone bites me. It’s nice. It’ll get me going. But it’s more important that you don’t do anything that’s like, objectively bad.”
“What would be objectively bad?” Miguel says it slowly, savoring every bit of information he receives. If he uses it to his advantage, his mami will like his kisses enough to keep… well, kissing him.
Plus, he won’t think he’s a total failure of a son.
“Don’t use too much tongue, don’t bite or suck too hard… what else?” Miles hums as he contemplates his own question, then laughs when he comes up with the answer. “Definitely give them time to breathe. Don’t go suffocating them or something if they stopped for air.”
Miguel begins contemplating his understanding of the concept of a kiss when all of the above sound just as arousing. His inner frowning must show, because suddenly Miles is moving closer and holding the side of his neck with his available hand.
“You’ll do good, don’t worry.” Is all he lets out before he’s leaning in again, this time less hesitant than before.
This time, Miles kisses him harder, presses against him closer, breathes into his mouth louder. He’s officially moved to straddling Miguel’s lap with his thighs, and in response Miguel’s suddenly whining around his mami’s tongue without meaning to at all.
Miles pulls away, disconnecting from him with a wet sound. Miguel instinctively follows, but then remembers what he’s been told, and settles back down on the couch.
“You okay, mijo? Too much?” Miles is looking at him with an expression that makes him tremble underneath him. He shakes his head the moment his body finally registers the question.
Miles moves his hands to caress Miguel’s board chest, squeezing his muscles. Miguel tightens his grip on his hips, pulling him closer until they’re able to feel each other’s body heat. He can sense Miles’ gaze on him as he gathers his thoughts, flushed up to his ears under the attention. When he snaps his eyes back up, every concern he’s had is thrown out the window.
He leans in without waiting for further instruction, but allows Miles to take the lead either way. He follows the way he moves, slides his mouth the way he does, angles his head to better catch his lips. Their breathing is in sync, both agitated as they make little noises into one another.
When Miles licks Miguel’s bottom lip, he lets his mouth drop and welcome the intrusion. He hums appreciatingly, furrowing his brows in concentration.
He doesn’t even notice when he’s began actively moaning against his mami’s mouth, but Miles swallows with practiced ease. Miles tugs on his shirt once, twice, and then he’s bringing him down with him when moves to lay on the couch.
Miguel groans this time, feeling the warmth of Miles’ thighs around his hips, bringing him closer than he thought was possible. He can tell that his mami is very good at this, and that it’s not the reason he’s enjoying himself. Not at all.
He knows he should be disgusted with the situation, that he should push Miles away from him and never speak to him again. Or perhaps it’s the other way around, Miles should have left Miguel at the fire station around a decade ago. But he can’t stop thinking about his mami; that it’s his mami that he’s kissing, and that it’s his mami holding him close in this way.
That it’s his mami that has him rock hard in his boxers, unknowingly bucking his hips against his clothed pussy to relieve some of the pressure.
“Shock, mami, I’m sorry!” He draws back so suddenly that Miles flops onto his back when he unhooks his arms from his neck. “I can’t – shit, it hurts.”
“Mig, mijo.” Miles calls out for him, lowering him back down so that they’re making eye contact again. “It’s okay, baby. It’s natural.”
“Still!” Miguel hides his face in his mami’s collarbone, shuddering at the heat radiating off of the hook of his neck. “We were just kissing, this is so embarrassing.”
“Hey, hey. Look.” Miles guides Miguel’s hand to his crotch and Miguel gasps at the newfound discovery.
Miles is wet. Wet enough that his shorts are warm and sticky against Miguel’s palm. His mami gasps at the touch and rolls his hip, before he catches himself. They’re both panting now, staring at each other’s obvious arousal as they fight the urge to take things further.
“That’s – “ Miles chuckles anxiously, frozen against Miguel’s hand. “Well, that’s kissing, I guess. You did really good, Miguel. it felt really good too.”
“Can we…” Miguel clears his throat. “Can we keep going?”
“I don’t know… we’ve already covered all the bases, no?” Miles moves so that he’s more sitting than laying down now, leaning back on his elbows.
“Not really.” Miguel insists stubbornly.
The moment stretches and once again Miguel thinks he stepped too far and made this unacceptable. Then, Miles shakes his head with a fond laugh, and cups Miguel’s face. He searches for something in his eyes, squinting at him like he’s a difficult mathematical equation to resolve.
When his mami still looks too unsure for his liking, Miguel exhales. “Please, mami? Please don’t make me wait, it hurts and there’s no blood going to my brain right now.” He bucks his hips against Miles’ inner thigh for emphasis. “Mami, I need this so bad. It’s hurting and I trust you.”
Only then does Miles kiss him again, the press of their lips turns back to being chaste and simple. He moves onto his neck instead, mouthing underneath his ear and jaw, licking and sucking in all the right places.
Miguel is quickly turned into a whining mess, humping his mami’s clothed cunt as he kisses his neck and shoulders. He’s sure Miles can feel the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, fighting off a premature orgasm that will definitely ruined the moment.
“Gonna take your cock out.” Miles announces much like he did when they first kissed, and Miguel quickly grows to love that as well. Miguel nods with a whimper, but Miles suddenly stops, “Need to hear you say it, baby. Consent is important for this part.”
Miguel doesn’t know how he’s expected to form a coherent sentence when his mami keeps talking to him this way. His brain becomes a sticky substance in his head, consisting of yesyesplease and mamimamimami.
So he answers with a combination of both. “Yes, mami. Please touch me. It hurts so bad, mami.”
His mami’s hand tugs at his boxers, and the cold air hits the flushed head of his cock. Miles’ slender fingers wrap around his length, spreading the precum he’s been leaking for the past half an hour in order to lube him up and make the slide easier.
He has imagined this more times than he could count. At first, with a faceless someone, approximately around his age, pumping at his cock. Then, it slowly transitioned into his mami’s hands, then into his mami’s curls, until his mami was all he could think of when he got himself off.
But nothing could prepare him for the way his mami’s slender hand actually felt on his leaking cock, rubbing the pleasure onto his tip and circling around the base or his balls. Miles’ hand is so small that he can barely wrap it around him, and it fills Miguel’s chest with a sense of pride.
“Ay, mami, it’s so – “ He attempts to praise him, but it all dies down when a guttural noise leaves him without permission. “I can’t, I can’t. Your hand is, ah – hmm, it’s so good.”
“Yeah?” Miles chuckles, shifting to give him a soft peck to the corner of his mouth. “Just keep going, bebe. take what you need, okay?”
His voice is suddenly right by Miguel’s ears, and it makes him push harder into his mami’s hand. He then tries to do something with his own, but when his mind comes up with nothing, he leaves them where they’re are at each side of Miles’ head.
“Fuh – ckkkk!”
He’s closer to coming that he’d like to admit, but his mami is doing such a good job as he twists and tugs at his throbbing length. He can’t keep his hips still, twitching and jerking every time Miles slides underneath the head of his cock.
“Mami, porfa – “ He cries out when fingers stay on his tips and rub circle into the sensitive spot of the underside. “Mami, me voy a correr – “
Miles nods, encouraging him on, and he goes back to giving him quick, hard strokes over the last inches of his cock. “Está bien, Mijo. Se va a sentir bien, c’mon.”
“Okay, okay.” Miguel’s voice has shrunk down into a breathy little thing. He’s gasping and whimpering against his mami’s mouth, furrowing his brows when the task becomes too difficult with the noises he makes.
He’s thinking about his mami’s little pussy, as he does every time he’s about to finish. He imagines his fingers inside his mami, twisting and making him feel so good. He imagines his cock inside him as well, throbbing against clenching walls that attempt to milk him dry.
“Ay, ay – ‘m coming, mami. Ah, mami, mami, fuuuck – “
Miguel comes so hard he feels the need to muffle his voice in Miles’ neck. He keeps rocking into his mami’s hand, a relieved moan leaving his mouth when cum starts dripping down his cock. He keeps thrusting into the grip around him until the noises become obscenely wet, and his cries turn into soft whines when it’s too much.
Miles is whispering praises, but Miguel can barely register them as he pants and gasps in an attempt to recover from the fuzzy headspace he finds himself in.
He doesn’t know at what point he closed his eyes, but he flutters them open at the slick noise that suddenly comes from underneath him. He blinks to see his mami’s hand shoved into his own underwear, moving in little circles as he massages his swollen clit.
His head is thrown back, his eyes are shut, and his mouth hands open in a silent moan. He’s bucking into his own hand, visibly close to finishing as well. When his back arches, Miguel finally snaps out of it and opens his mouth to offer some assistance.
“I can help, Mami.”
It takes a moment for Miles to formulate a sentence, but when he does, he still touching himself as he speaks. “No, ah – Not gonna take long – hnnng, yesss – “
Miguel wants to protest, he wants to help the way his mami helped him, but most importantly he want to be the reason he comes. However, exhaustion settles into his bones, and Miles shakes his head when he insists a second time.
“Ay, Miguel – “
He opts to watch as Miles’ back arches impossibly further, and all his muscles tense as he makes a little, breathy noise. Then he relaxes, his thighs trembling when he throws his head back and moans loudly. His rapid pace doesn’t falter as he keeps coming and coming, curling into himself at the sheer force that he finishes with.
They slowly come back to reality while Miles catches his breath, and Miguel lowers himself so that he’s cuddling his shaking body. Miles turns and slides a hand underneath Miguel’s shirt, rubbing circles into his back without much thought.
“Thank you, mami.” Miguel whispers, tucking his flaccid cock back into his boxers.
“De nada.” Miles sighs, and closes his eyes. His breaths almost even out entirely, until he hums around a thought. “You’re gonna shower when you wake up.”
“Si, mami.”