Every once in a while, Bobby wished he had a normal job, one that went from 9 to 5 instead of the other way around. The suits he wore would be his own, he could wait two or three weeks between haircuts and no one would say a word, and people would find it more than a little strange that he wore makeup at work. Not often, but every once in while when his eyes were dry with exhaustion and his stomach sour from eating too quickly between takes.
Tonight was one of those nights.
The studio lot was never empty but it showed the lateness of the hour, pocked with vacant spaces. The sore spot on the back of his heel from a pinch in his shoes had worn itself into a blister and every step he took was reminding him of it in little bursts of pain. He made a mental note to remind the wardrobe people on Monday to either fix the problem or get him a new pair of damned shoes. Budget constraints weren't that bad.
The pain was distracting, annoyingly so, and enough that he didn't see the person leaning against his car until he'd almost walked into them. Bobby took a startled half step backwards, blinked at David, who didn't seem tired at all. Instead, he seemed to have almost too much energy, his hands shifting restlessly like he wasn't sure quite what to do with them, his eyes looking at anything but Bobby. Strange that Bobby really couldn't blame him for the awkwardness between them.
Maybe it was those eyes, soft blues, diffident whenever they met Bobby's in those few moments when he wasn't being Illya. Sometimes it was just easier to be Napoleon and Illya when they were together. They could laugh or tease or simply be friends in a way that Bobby and David didn't seem to be able to figure out, a puzzle with too many pieces missing to tell what the picture was.
David didn't seem interested in breaking the silence but he also didn't move from in front of the car door. It made Bobby sigh inwardly, thanking David silently with sour amusement. Typical of him to show up and obviously want to talk and then make Bobby do all the work.
How did he get involved with these people?
"Hi," Bobby said, and offered a smile, hoping it would be enough of a bribe. If David wanted to chat he could think of a dozen places better than the middle of a parking lot.
Well, that certainly helped. Brought the conversation right back into nothing. Wonderful. David was picking at his thumbnail with the same amount of concentration someone would use while disarming a bomb. It made Bobby think ridiculous thoughts about exploding fingernails in the UNCLE arsenal and he bit his lip to keep from laughing. Not that it mattered. He wasn't entirely sure David would notice.
"You have a very interesting license plate," David said suddenly, his eyes flashing up to meet Bobby's. The smirk that curved his lips was unexpected, the sort of teasing that Illya would give him and Bobby felt a flush creeping up his cheeks. All right, so a plate with his name AND his PhD on it was a little much, but damn it, he'd earned that PhD and if he wanted to advertise, he would.
"Thank you," Bobby said, and it was all too easy to push Napoleon's arch humor into his tone. It was as much his as it was the nonexistent spy's, anyway. "I rather like it myself."
David's grin widened into something almost believable. "Do you have it tattooed on your arm as well?"
"Not on my arm." Again, reflex, Napoleon's words to Illya but the flinch that he got in reply was completely David. It was wrong that it should make little knots of guilt jitter in his stomach. He wasn't the only grown up here, and adults who played adult games got burned sometimes.
Bobby hadn't really intended for all that to happen, anyway, he'd just want to...he didn't know what he'd intended. He'd just wanted to maybe ease some of that quiet sadness that he'd been seeing in David's eyes. Maybe spend a little time with him, get to know him and maybe the puzzle would finally come together and they could be something like friends.
Stupid, really. He didn't lack for friends. Why was it so important that one short, blonde British man look at him with the gentle affection that he knew David had within.
Abruptly, the throbbing in his heel jerked him back into the rapidly darkening parking lot and enough was enough of this crap. He'd said they were playing adult games, they might was well act like adults while they were at it.
"Get in," Bobby gestured towards the passenger door. David blinked at him with startled eyes. "If you want to talk we can do it somewhere else."
David nodded slowly and got in on the driver's side instead, scooting over into the passenger seat. It made Bobby wonder if it was reflex, the wrong side of the car for David or if he just hadn't wanted to walk that far away. Bobby shook his head at his own inanity. What did it matter? At least he was in the car.
"Where do you want to go," Bobby asked as he started the car.
David was already looking out the window at nonexistent scenery. "To my place."
It told Bobby almost more than he wanted to know just then. To David's place, David's empty place, obviously, since he sincerely doubted that this would be a conversation David wanted his wife to hear.
Bobby nodded even though he knew David wasn't looking at him and pulled out of the lot. It was a longer drive to David's house than it was to his own; they actually passed his apartment and when the silence became too much, Bobby snapped on the radio, singing softly along with it.
It was a momentary shock when he realized David was singing too, almost absently, under his breath.
"...and I'm lost in a daydream, dreaming 'bout my bundle of joy." Soft, sweet voice, his accent lost in the words and Bobby caught his breath, and wished he could simply undo hearing David singing. What the hell was he doing here, driving David home so they could...what? Talk? And what exactly did he think they were going to say?
God, he was out of his fucking mind.
He wasn't good at being honest with himself, never had been, but it didn't mean he didn't know the truth and the truth was who wouldn't have a crush on David? Not because he was handsome and blonde and everything the teenagers dreamed about at night, but because he was kind and warm, and had this odd little laugh, and this wasn't helping one damned bit.
Only he was a little old for crushes, and David was firmly established as a family man. Crushes were fine, and it was hardly the first time he'd had one on someone he couldn't have. Fine and dandy until the crushee was suddenly in your car, singing to your radio and you were pulling into their driveway and dear God, what was he doing?
He'd had his stolen moment, and it had been stolen, he did know that. David so pained and vulnerable and he'd just leapt at the chance like the callus fool he so often was. Getting into David's pants had been easier than getting the prom queen drunk in the back of a borrowed car, and he'd had his taste, dammit. He should just drop David off and go home, call someone else, someone not so lost, who would leave in the morning with nothing more than an easy kiss goodbye.
Every instinct he had was screaming at him to do just that, but apparently no one bothered to tell his feet because they were following David up the drive, forcing him to wait patiently at the door while David unlocked it and let them in.
The force of his back hitting the door, slamming in the last few inches shut, was less of a shock than the urgent mouth on his own. Not so much a kiss as an act of pure desperation and it was impossible not to respond to that, whatever bit of empathy he had within rising to meet it with a need of his own.
It was perhaps his last bit of self-preservation that made him try to pull away, dragging his mouth from David's and tilting his head enough so that those hungry, whimpering lips couldn't catch his again.
"David, what--wait, please, I..."
"No!" Almost a sob, and another layer of shock settled on the last one. "No, please, let me...just...please."
This was...not a good idea but it was so hard to think with David's teeth sinking gently into the skin at the base of his throat, sharp pain that sank right down to his groin. God, the little sounds David was making, soft, hungry, and he was already fumbling Bobby's t-shirt over his head, not even waiting for a yes.
Jesus, this was insane. His arms were still caught in his shirt, a set of twisted, cotton cuffs and he stumbled when David used it, yanking him forward until he stumbled towards the sofa and onto it. Floral patterned tweed beneath his shoulders and beige carpet rubbing the soles of his shoes and he abruptly filled with the knowledge that this was a room that Jill had decorated.
Perhaps she and David discussed it, flipping through a catalogue of fabrics, him grunting in impatient agreement at each swatch she pointed out to him and eventually she chose the floral with carpet to match, and she would have surveyed this room with a satisfied air and never considered her husband pushing another man down on it. His hands fumbling open Bobby's belt and the sudden feel of his cold, trembling fingers sliding into Bobby's pants rips away any thought of Jill or reality.
"Oh!" he gasped, the almost painful clasp of a chilled hand around his cock was something like pure bliss. His hands were still bound in fabric and he struggled to free them. If he was going to be here, he was going to be here, and he finally managed to get loose, tossing his shirt aside. He saw it land on a lamp across the room, tilting the shade dangerously and then all he knew was David.
His mouth was open and wet against Bobby's, his tongue moving slickly in his mouth. Too hard, almost brutal and Bobby found himself petting his hair, trying to gentle him. Trying to tell him it didn't have to be like this. That he'd won.
Bobby wasn't going anywhere.
It wasn't too hard to ease the franticness of his kisses, his breath still coming in panicky little blurts as Robert eased him on his back, crouching over him. His shirt was already unbuttoned Bobby saw with some amusement. He couldn't remember that happening. David was already lifting his hips when Bobby opened the fly of his jeans, eager to assist, and he couldn't help but smile.
Slid the pants down, past strong ankles and only then did Bobby allow himself to look, catching his breath.
Everything about David was lovely. The faint, visible ridges of his ribs, smooth lines trailing down his chest, the dark blonde curls cupping the heaviness of his cock. Uncut, lovely, smooth skin, dark against the paleness of his belly, and Bobby thought he might die for just a taste of that.
The first time had been too quick, too casual, far too innocent a liaison. This was much, much better. Bobby lowered his head and kissed his way over the curve of David's hip, deliberately pausing at the crease of his thigh. He could feel David's hands fluttering nervously over his shoulders. Asking himself a question, no doubt, in that stifling little way he had. Do you push away or pull closer, do you turn tail and run, or do you stay and see what happens? Flip a coin, my friend, he commanded silently, letting his tongue gently adore the dreadfully soft skin inside David's thigh. A little cheat didn't count, and all was fair in love and war after all....
Finally, the weight of his hands settled on Bobby's shoulders, neutral territory. Bravery was always worth a reward, and Bobby let his mouth find the tip of David's cock, sucking away the slick salt wetness he found there.
A simple gasp was like music, the faintest tightening of the fingers on his shoulders. Bobby closed his eyes and tried not to think of how much he wanted to be naked with David on this sofa. Better to just give him a tease, a taste of what he could have, licking slow, sweet patterns down the side. Bobby ignored the hopeful little arches, the hands that were sliding higher, into his hair. No, this was his game now, and if David wanted more he was going to have to play better than that.
He glided back up, luxurious little licks against hot, satin skin, to the tip again, dipping just beneath the soft fold of skin surrounding it. David's sudden gasp, his abrupt push upward was easy to avoid, veering the expected heat of his mouth away and David's breathing shifted into a moan of complaint.
"Robert..." Trailing into a shiver as Bobby blew on wet skin. Robert, always Robert. How charming, as David would say. Bobby wet his lips and let David feel what he was doing, just to get that little shiver again. Everything about him was so tantalizing to the senses, soft, pale skin, barely scented with soap. The faint salt flavor, heavier at the tip and this time Robert let his hands get into the game, gently pulling down the foreskin so he could get a better taste.
An embarrassment of riches, he thought wryly, and he was out of his mind for trying to steal this treasure. A crush was one thing, easily shrugged away. Getting involved with a family man was something else entirely, even if it did look like his wife was ready to move on to another family. This was a really bad idea, but the light, crinkled weight of David's balls against his tongue was hard to argue with, the crisp blonde curls tickling his nose.
"Stop!" David's hands were suddenly frantic in his hair, tugging just a shade too hard. Bobby frowned a complaint up at David's face and found hungry eyes watching him.
"That's not..." David took a deep breath, his tongue flickering nervously against his lips. "That's not what I want."
"No?" Bobby crooned, letting his breath rustle through blonde curls and he felt David shudder convulsively.
"No," he breathed, lashes trembling briefly against his cheeks before he opened his eyes and looked down at Bobby. Deep blue, lined with soft, dark lashes, and God, he was lovely. No wonder he got attacked on the street. If he'd been any less sane than he already was, Bobby would do the same thing.
"No," David repeated, a little stronger, the clean line of his teeth digging softly into his lower lip before he murmured, so quietly, "I want you to fuck me."
It was like pouring fire into his blood, searing every nerve in his body. He couldn't move as David rolled onto his belly, digging in between the cushions and pulling out a silver tube, pressing it into Bobby's nerveless fingers. How long had David been planning this, all day? A few days? The whole week since that time in the dressing room? He fumbled the tube open, slicking his fingers, warming the lube in his hand and thought about David buying this, planning this. Wanting him. He pressed a kiss into the small of David's back and felt him tense, shaking almost violently but he didn't flinch from the touch of Bobby's fingers.
Eased one finger in and felt the hot, silken stretch of muscle around it, lush, deep heat, and God, Bobby wanted to be inside there. He was doing it too quickly, he knew, wanting it desperately, and David was making little noises now, low grunts and whimpers and he wriggled backwards, trying for more.
"Oh...that's so...God, Robert, do it now, do it, please!"
Not yet, he thought feverishly, not just yet. But oh, he thought it might be loosening now, not quite as tight and Bobby pressed another finger inside, could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. Still so tight, David's hips moving back against him helplessly and one of his hands was clenched on the edge of the cushion so tightly that color was bleaching out of his grip. He pulled his fingers out deliberately, just to see the hungry shift of David's ass back towards him. Enough, yes, and David was as ready as he could make him.
Bobby was still wearing his pants, he realized, struggled them the rest of the way open with one hand and yanked them down to his knees. He couldn't let go, not now, not even enough to kick them loose. He ran a hand down David's back, slick and moist with sweat and felt him shake, pressed gently between his shoulder blades, urging him lower, positioning him.
"David," Bobby said, faintly, trying to offer just a touch of warning but no more than that as he took himself in hand and just...pushed. Sinfully tight, sweet enough to make his teeth ache with it, and he dimly heard David gasp, breathing words that sounded like blasphemies. It was so difficult to go slow, prying his way in and for a moment he didn't think it would work, stubborn muscles trying to force him back out and he'd have to stop but he couldn't, he really couldn't stop, not now.
David cried out suddenly, loudly, and he abruptly slid in, the sudden clenching around his cock almost making him come right then. He fought it off, blinking stinging sweat out of his eyes and he could taste beads of it on his upper lip, felt the ticklish slide down his back. Pulled back and the long, slow slide back in was better than anything he could have imagined.
His pants around his knees were a frustrating barrier, hobbling him from moving like he wanted, and David was keening, his hoarse whimpers better than any song he could sing. He was being too rough, wondered if the edge to David's cries was pain but he wasn't asking him to stop, was only begging weakly for more. He could feel it when David came, the clench of his body suddenly agonizingly tight and God, it was too much, the shock of the entire evening too much and he thrust in hard, his nails digging little crescent bruises into David's hips. Caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth and bit down, trying not to cry out but it was absolutely fucking incredible, the sweet bliss of penetration, just pouring everything into David's willing body.
Sunlight was trying to creep in between his eyelids, annoyingly so, and Bobby rolled over with a grunt of annoyance. Why the hell hadn't he shut the shades the night before? A warm body stopped his flight across the bed before he'd gone more than a couple inches, a muffled protest buried into the pillows. Pillows that were too soft and wrapped in floral fabric, and unless his cleaning lady was making changes while he was out, this was not his bed.
It was an effort to open his eyes but he managed a bare slit, flaring wide open at what he saw next to him. Soft blonde hair was only an inch from his nose, shining gently in the early light. The smell of shampoo and the saltiness of sex and semen from beneath the blanket all mixed together tantalizingly and Bobby shifted uncomfortably at his body's predictable reaction. How he could even consider sex again, aching in too many places to count after last night, but his dick didn't seem to care one bit.
He pressed a nuzzling kiss against David's ear with deliberate gentleness but when he pulled back, David's eyes were open, watching him.
"David," he started softly and hesitated.
David blinked at him sleepily, his eyes almost gray in this light. "You're still here."
Um. That did not sound good. "Sorry," he tried, yawning loudly even though he was suddenly not tired at all. "I must've fallen asleep."
"You must have," David agreed, a smile curving his lips and Bobby relaxed. He wasn't upset that he was here then. It made him a little braver, trying a kiss on David's shoulder and at David's sigh of appreciation, a little lower, tasting salt-warm skin. David moaned softly, his fingers sliding into Bobby's hair. So easy, so eager to be seduced. Lovely.
"You could stay the weekend," David suggested breathlessly. "Jill and the children won't be back until Monday."
That got his attention, and he lifted his head, staring at David in shock. Just the mention of his family wilted him, inside and out. David frowned back at him, his brow creased in a way that made him look older.
"You told me that my marriage was on hold," David reminded him stiffly. "We never mentioned it being over."
"Well, I..." Yes, he had said that, but "I didn't know she was coming back so soon. That doesn't sound like a separation, that sounds like making up."
"If that bothers you, then don't stay," David shrugged, rolling to the edge of the bed. Bobby heard the click of a lighter and the sudden acrid scent of smoke in the air, and wondered when David had started smoking again. His faint cough as he inhaled said it was recently. "I don't recall asking for your opinions on it."
"No, you didn't, but since I'm here, I think I deserve to at least know what's going on."
"Because you object to sleeping with a married man?" David scoffed, taking a long drag off the cigarette. "Why do I need to explain myself to you, you're hardly talking about Joyce."
Bobby couldn't think of a word to say, utterly shocked that David would even say something like that when he knew that matters between him and Joyce were entirely different. This was...this was so completely wrong and he didn't know David well, that was true, but he knew that he wasn't like this.
"...I doubt you even know what the word monogamy means," David was saying, watching the lazy curls of smoke rising from the tip of his cigarette.
"I know enough about marriage and monogamy to see you're here with me," Bobby blurted out, David's coldness so unexpected, and what had he done? "What makes you so sure she's not doing the same thing?"
"You think she's using someone else for sex?" David looked at him coolly. "Maybe she is."
It took a minute for it to filter through, the exact insult to hit him, and oh, that hurt. Without a word, Bobby slid out of the bed and walked naked to the living room, scooping his jeans up from the floor and skinning into them as quickly as he could. He couldn't stay here and listen to David be like this, not when he...
What? Had offered so much more than a little quick sex? It didn't matter. Casual sex was one thing, but it didn't have to come with casual cruelty.
David was standing in the doorway watching him silently, his eyes dark and unreadable. The pressure in his chest was growing, almost a real pain and Bobby yanked his shirt over his head so he didn't have to look at David anymore. He was shoving his feet into his shoes, scraping the blister on his heel as he forced them on and even that hiss of pain didn't slow him down.
He shouldn't have looked. Should have just walked out the door but his stupidity was what got him into this in the first place. No surprise that it should end like that too. David looked paler, his eyes huge in his face as though it had suddenly occurred to him that Bobby was actually leaving, "Robert..." he started, his expression regretful and he reached out hesitantly, stopping when Bobby shied away.
"No." He should have said that yesterday, should never even have come here and he couldn't even blame David for it because he'd already known himself that this was a bad idea. "No," he repeated ignoring the way David's face crumpled. "Go use someone else."
The click of the door behind him was final somehow in a way nothing else had been, and Bobby was embarrassed to feel his eyes burning, a stinging in his sinuses that have nothing to do with the pain of his blister. He ignored all of it, walking down the stairs to his car and hoping that none of the paparazzi were catching this. Not that it would hurt his reputation but David...he smiled sourly at his own concern. He always had been a glutton for punishment.
Even knowing it doesn't stop him from glancing back, seeing David watching him through the curtains, dimly outlined in linen. He nodded curtly, yes, they would see each other Monday and he would be nothing but a professional and he knew David would be too, for the cameras and for his family.
But a few more pieces were missing from their puzzle, and Bobby thought they always would be. He closed his eyes for just a second, rested his forehead on the steering wheel and allowed himself to wonder what kind of picture they might have made together.
And then he started his car and headed for home.