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Robert was sprawled out face down on his mattress when he heard the front door open in the next room. He froze, every muscle tense, listening hard, then heard the jingle of keys on the console table and let out an aggravated breath.
“I told you, rain check for tonight,” he called.
“Yeah yeah, and I decided to ignore you,” Flambae called back. Robert could hear plastic bags rustling in the kitchen, the open and close of the fridge. Beef’s tiny claws clicked on hardwood, then tile and Chad murmured to him gleefully. “Is Bob-Bob an idiot? Yes he is! Show me your belly if you think we should never listen to anything he says. Oh, there it is!” Then, louder, “Your dog agrees with me.”
Robert considered dragging himself out of bed to try to kick Flambae out properly, and then decided it would probably backfire. He was too tired and sore to put the effort into starting the kind of real argument that would make Chad storm off, and anything less than something explosive would just rile him up, make him stick around longer for continued sniping until he felt like he won. His best strategy was to lay here, very still and quiet, and hope he was boring enough that Chad just left.
He dropped his head back onto the pillow and winced as even that small movement tweaked his neck brutally. Yep. Strategy. Staying on the bed was definitely….strategy.
A creak on the floorboard just outside the bedroom door told him Chad was coming closer. He peeled an eyelid open to see him leaned against the door frame, hip cocked and hands in pockets. He was in a black sweats set with his hair loose, looking soft and relaxed and — and mobile. Robert probably hated him.
Chad whistled through his teeth. “Damn, look at you, bitch. You look worse than Chase. What, was our little gym workout this morning too much for your tiny normie body?”
“I kicked your ass this morning,” Robert reminded him. “That’s the whole reason you were gonna buy dinner. You remember, the dinner I told you to take a rain check on.”
“And I told you, I’m ignoring you. Seriously, what gives, I told you you shouldn’t have done the extra reps—”
“OK asshole, you only said that because you wanted me to bail so you would win. The gym was fine, I just had a rough landing in the Mech on morning patrol. Knocked me around a bit, I’m sore. Nothing a shower and some painkillers won’t fix.”
“Uh huh,” Chad said, clearly eying him up. “You look like you’re gonna get right on that.”
“Fuck you,” Robert said. He shut his eyes, letting everything drop into darkness. Maybe if he couldn’t see Flambae the other man would just stop being there.
For a moment there was blessed quiet. Robert focused on his breathing. Deep breaths in and out, trying to convince his body to let go of a tiny bit of tension with every exhale. He’d never found yoga fit particularly well into his routine, but some of the breathwork had helped, those first weeks after he woke up from the coma and even just moving a finger felt like a win.
More movement and creaking by the door. That’s right, he thought. I’m so boring right now. Just head on home. Then, suddenly, the mattress shifted and a huge warm weight dropped down on top of him.
“Oof,” Robert groaned, air leaving him in a rush and every muscle screaming. “Flambae, you asshole —”
“Mmm just what I’ve always wanted,” Chad purred in his ear. “Mecha Man completely at my mercy.”
Ah shit. Well, he hadn’t considered that angle.
“You sick fuck.” Robert squirmed. “Seriously, get off — oh.”
Chad had placed one huge, deliciously warm hand over the back of his neck, fingers wrapped around to the front and gently stroking down the line of his artery. The inherent threat of it made Robert freeze for a second and that single moment of stillness was his undoing — before he could collect himself and throw Flambae off, the heat of his hand had sunk into his sore muscles and his whole body had, unwillingly, gone slack with appreciation.
“Fuck, Bob-Bob, I think the gym bench is actually less stiff than you. You tryin’ to become one with your giant robot?”
“I hate you,” Robert said, but even he could tell it was a sad attempt.
Chad laughed in his ear. “I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, bitch. Now shut up and let the master work. I’m gonna blow your little mind.”
“Chad, seriously, I can’t tonight.”
“Relax, Rob, and get your head out of the gutter. I’m not gonna stick my dick in you. Your normie ass can tap out whenever you want.”
Robert opened his mouth to point out that he’d already tapped out, thanks, and then sighed and closed it again. He’d wait until Flambae did something really egregious and then kick him in the balls — that would teach him.
Chad didn’t move, though. Well, technically his hand was moving — flexing gently on Robert’s neck, rubbing a thumb along the tight muscle on the tops of his shoulders. But the rest of him was mostly still, just small adjustments until he was fully aligned on top of Robert: legs tangled together, hip to hip, Chad’s broader shoulders slumped over his own. Then he just — sat. Robert tried to stay alert, calculating the optimal movement that would allow him to disentangle a leg and donkey kick, but after a few minutes of nothing but warm heavy pressure across his entire body, his focus started to slip. Back and forth, back and forth, went Chad’s thumb. It was under his shirt collar, a line of heat across tender knotted muscle. He started to sync his breathing with the movement without even really noticing it, until it paused for too long on an upstroke and Robert ended up letting out all his air in a single, massive sigh.
“There we go,” Chad murmured. He released the grip on Robert’s neck and ran his hand across his shoulder, down the length of his arm, until he could tangle their fingers together. For a moment he just squeezed, digging his thumb into the heel of Robert’s palm, and then he used the grip to slowly extend their arms out straight, pulling until Robert’s arm was parallel with his shoulders.
“Ow,” Robert complained.
“Seriously?” Chad said. “You’re a wreck.” He released his grip on Robert’s hand and Robert felt the temperature of his hand flare noticeably as Chad cupped his palm around Robert’s shoulder and then dragged the hand down his arm back to his fingers. He repeated the motion a few times, then laced their fingers again and manipulated Robert’s arm a little higher, coaxing it to bend with his own elbow until it was cactus-ed next to Robert’s head. They lay there together for a moment, Chad’s arm pressing gently down against his in a way that he felt in his pec, and then Chad released Robert’s hand and dropped his own down to curl around Robert’s hip.
Robert left his arm where Chad had placed it and after a pause felt Chad tuck his face against Robert’s neck, lips stretched in a smile.
“Good,” he murmured, and kissed the corner of Robert’s mouth, the only part he could reach.
Then he ran his hand down Robert’s other arm and did the same series of motions on the other side, heat dragging along every touch.
Robert allowed himself to be manipulated almost mechanically. He felt almost like he was moving underwater, letting a current carry him. Everything was warm and slow and yes, sore, but even that was starting to give way under the ever-present heat to something softer, a de-fanged ache.
Chad paused again when both Robert’s hands were up by his head, their hands intertwined and his face in Robert’s neck again.
“Clothes off?” he asked, and then when Robert made a wordless sound of agreement and tried to brace to sit up, “Uh-uh, let me.”
The air in the room felt distinctly cool when Chad sat up, legs straddling Robert’s hips. He felt hot fingers under the hem of his shirt immediately, burrowing under and dragging the fabric up and up. When he reached Robert’s shoulders, Chad pushed his hands up into the sleeves, following along up his arms until the entire shirt was off of Robert and his arms were stretched straight up above his head. Robert flexed his fingers in the sheets and left them there.
“Pants,” Chad said, and climbed off of him fully. Luckily Robert had already changed into his usual at-home uniform of ragged tee-shirt and boxers — it only took a second for Chad to strip them down his legs and leave him completely bare.
Chad didn’t climb back on the bed immediately. Robert heard soft rustling and the gentle thumps of more fabric hitting the floor. He was too lazy to move at all, even just to turn his head and watch Chad undress, as rewarding as the effort would be. Instead, he just lay slack and relaxed, shivering a little at the cold air on his bare skin.
Something small hit the bed just to his left and then Chad was back. Without the two layers of clothing between them, his skin was almost shockingly warm and Robert sucked in a sharp breath as Chad stretched back over him — legs tangled together, hip to hip, Chad’s broad hands reaching up to curl around Robert’s outstretched wrists and press them into the bed, an echo of how they’d been at the beginning. This time, though, he could feel the hard line of Chad’s dick pressed against the small of his back, smearing wetly in the small pool of sweat that had gathered there. It made him aware, suddenly, that he was half-hard himself, his cock throbbing where it was tucked into the crease of his hip.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as Chad leaned more weight into his hips, grinding them together at the same time as he pushed Robert’s arms up even straighter over his head, a stretch that felt like it popped through every vertebrate in his spine and plucked something connected directly to his cock. He pushed his head up to rub his cheek against Chad’s face, panting. “Oh, that —”
“Yeah?” Chad growled. He scraped his teeth along the side of Robert’s neck and Robert shivered. “You like that, baby? Fuck, that’s so hot.”
“Chad…”
“Yeah Rob, c’mon, move with me here.”
There was a scramble of movement — Chad knocking Robert’s legs open wider with his knees, flipping his grip on Robert’s hands to shove his own underneath and interlace them palm to palm, boxing Robert in underneath his body. It pressed Robert completely into the cradle of Chad’s hips, sliding Chad’s dick down the cleft of his ass to bump against the sensitive skin of Robert’s inner thigh. Robert tried to chase the sensation at the same time Chad bucked his hips, two uncoordinated jerks of movement that managed to slip Chad’s cock further between Robert’s legs to kiss against his balls.
“Ah!”
“Fuck.”
They groaned at the same time and Robert tried to roll his hips, make it happen again, but Chad tightened his grip on his hands, panting.
“Wait, fuck, you fucking menace. Here, come here.”
Then Chad started to shift back, drawing Robert with him, pressing Robert back until he was on his hands and knees and then even further, until his knees were folded, his butt seated on his ankles and his torso resting between his thighs. Chad was fully around him, locked together like puzzle pieces, hot face pressed between Robert’s shoulderblades.
It was….a lot. It was so much. Robert felt the stretch in his hips, his thighs, his lower back, tight muscles protesting the stretch while Chad’s weight forced him even deeper into it. Their hips were melded together, Chad’s cock still between Robert’s legs, a furiously hot line pressing against him.
“There, baby,” Chad panted, and Robert could feel his grin against his shoulder blade. “How’s that feel?” He ground forward with his hips at the same time that he pressed down with his chest, slapping the wet head of his dick against Robert’s perineum even as he folded Robert another inch into the stretch. Something pinged in Robert’s inner thigh and he felt it like a stroke on his cock. “You want to tap out?”
Robert turned his head and bit Chad’s upper arm, the closest thing to him.
“Ungh, shit,” Chad groaned. His hips bucked again and oh, that felt good. Robert dug his teeth in deeper. “Fuck, you’re feral.”
Fingers scrabbled at his mouth and Robert released his grip to let them pull him away. He had a disorienting moment of mixed sensations — skin on skin on skin, tangled in a way he couldn’t make sense of, until he realized that Chad had brought their joined hands to Robert’s face, and what he was feeling was his own hands on his own mouth and cheek, in addition to Chad’s.
“Relax, Robbo,” Chad sing-songed. “Breathe into it.” To illustrate the point, he hooked two of Robert’s own fingers into Robert’s mouth, gliding his thumb along the angle of his jaw to keep it open.
Robert distantly recognized it as a smart strategic move — he wasn’t nearly as likely to bite his own fingers off as he was to take off a few more of Chad’s — before Chad rolled his hips again and he moaned, open mouth unable to suppress any sounds.
“That’s it.” Chad used his hand on Robert’s jaw to turn his face towards him and licked over his scarred ear. “Get loud for me.”
“You wish,” Robert slurred, but his heart wasn’t in it. The repositioning and their brief mutual scuffle had shaken him out of that slow, dream-like state for a moment but now he was sinking back in fast, molded into position by Chad’s body around him and held warm and secure. Chad had stopped moving again too, except for tiny rocks of his hips that forced Robert to keep adjusting within the stretch, that nudged their cocks together, little intermingled twinges of pleasure-pain that were driving Robert insane. He focused on his breathing again instead: in and out, in and out, trying to convince his body to let go of a tiny bit of tension with every exhale. In and out…
“Fuck,” Chad snarled, and Robert slowly became aware that he was whining under his breath, with little hiccuping “ah”s every time Chad moved. “You’re so — I can’t believe you.”
He pressed his hips forward suddenly, hard, and Robert arched under him, gasping. “Fuck, Chad, ah ah!”
“C’mon Rob, up baby, move for me.” Chad was already stretching them back out, off their knees and back onto their stomachs where they’d started. Robert groaned — his hips had just as much to say about coming out of the stretch as they had going into it. “You’re good, you’re so good, just give me a second,” Chad muttered and his weight disappeared for a moment, scrambling for something on the other side of the bed. Then he was back, spooning up behind Robert and dragging him into the curve of his body with a strong arm across his chest, smearing kisses across the curve of his cheek.
“Up, let me— ” Chad reached down to grab Robert’s knee, turning them both onto their sides and hooking Robert’s ankle behind Chad’s leg, leaving his cock — red, throbbing, drooling precum onto his stomach — fully on display. In almost the same motion Chad grabbed his own cock and steered it back between Robert’s thighs, rutting his hips forward to drag along the perineum and seat the head snugly against Robert’s sac. They both groaned, and Robert’s hand flew up to claw at Chad’s arm around his chest, the other reaching spasmodically for his dick.
Chad intercepted it. “Fuck, wait, hand. Hold your hand—”. Robert reluctantly held his hand flat, letting Chad dispense a generous amount of lube from the little bottle he’d apparently had lurking nearby. Before Robert could take matters into his own hands, Chad had dropped the bottle and cupped Robert’s hand in his, tangling their fingers together.
“Help me out here,” he murmured, and brought their shared grip down to his cock, a firm open palmed stroke that smeared lube on his dick as well as all over Robert’s thighs. The pressure rode Chad’s cock harder into the sensitive skin between Robert’s legs and he moaned, cupping his hand around the slick tip and grinding down onto it.
“Fuuck,” Chad groaned, pressing their joined hands down even harder and fucking his hips into it for a few desperate strokes. Robert felt his toes curling and pressed his face closer to Chad’s on pure instinct, mouth dropping open. Fuck, the angle was driving Chad’s cock right up behind his balls, that same twisting, twinging pleasure-pain mix he’d felt before that was like a live wire right to his dick. It felt — he felt —
“Chad,” he gasped. “Mmm, fuck I—!”
“Shit, god, you’re unreal.” Chad was panting, his breath nearly scorching against Robert’s cheek. He stilled his hips and Robert growled, squirming against his hold, but Chad just pressed their hands even harder between Robert’s legs, trapping his own cock beneath them. “Keep. It. Here,” he snarled, then let go. His hand dragged along Robert’s inner thigh, damp with lube, up over his balls and finally — finally — wrapped around Robert’s cock, slick and so hot and tight, a perfect channel, a fucking dream, and then his hips started moving again, one thrust, two, a third, his cock driving up hard right as he swiped his thumb over Robert’s tip —
Robert came with a shout, head back, his entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. Chad kept fucking him through it, every smack of his cock making him seize and whimper, a feedback loop that felt like it never ended. Finally, just as he was gasping his way through a final convulsion, Chad snarled and flipped them back over onto their stomachs, burying his face in Robert’s neck and propping himself up to jerk himself viciously to completion all over Robert’s back with the same hand that was covered in Robert’s cum. Robert felt the wet stripes across his shoulders, the small of his back, each drop almost burning hot and he shivered, fried nerves jangling.
“Fuck,” Chad groaned, collapsing down on top of him. Robert reached a hand back to tangle in his hair and Chad crushed them closer together with the arm he still had across Robert’s collarbones. They stayed like that for a few minutes, a tangled curl of warm bodies, slick with sweat and cum. Their faces were pressed awkwardly together, Chad’s nose into Robert’s cheek, and Robert could feel each of Chad’s panting breaths feather across his lips, hot enough to steam. Finally, Chad hummed and stretched, picking his head up.
“I’m...the best,” Chad said smugly, smacking a kiss to the side of Robert’s head. “Admit it.”
Robert felt amazing. He would never admit it.
“I still don’t want to move, asshole.”
“Mmm but that’s because I melted your brain, not because of your old man body. Come on, Robbo, be honest with yourself.”
Robert pushed up with his hips. “Get off me, I can’t breathe.”
Chad slid off of him, dragging hands down Robert’s back as he went and leaving him with a final smack on the ass. “Best thing that’s ever happened to you~,” he sing-songed, and grabbed his sweatpants off the floor.
“I’m showering, bitch, and I brought your sorry ass dinner because I am, as established, the best. If you’re not in the kitchen in 10 I’m feeding your portion to your dog.”
Robert sprawled out face down on the mattress and listened to Flambae humming as he walked away, one of Prism’s songs he was pretty sure. The floorboard outside the bedroom creaked, then the bathroom door. The shower came on a second after.
Safely alone, Robert stretched his limbs tentatively and sat up. Soreness, nothing else, the kind of round, well-worked ache of warm muscles at rest. A bit of vertigo, from being upright after being prone for so long. And….yeah, ok, he was hungry.
Robert smirked, climbing off the bed in search of wherever Chad had thrown his boxers. If he hurried, he might be able to eat all of Chad’s food before he got out of the shower.