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The bar area at Jimmy Pesto's Pizzeria erupted in a half chorus of drunken cheers and ecstatic whoops and hollers, and disappointed, pissed off groans. The all-ginger football team, the Snappers, decorated in red and green, had won the superbowl. Much to the chagrin of the patrons donning the white and gold of the opposing (losing) team, the Hockers, lead by coaches Lou and Gee.
Jimmy Pesto stood slack-jawed in his glittery white and gold jersey, watching in disbelief as the Snappers were carried around with their winning trophy in hand on the TV. He couldn't believe it. The Hockers were undefeated for the whole season, and the Snappers had barely squeaked out enough wins to end up in the playoffs to begin with. How could they have won over the obvious winners? It must have been a fluke!
It seemed many other Hocker-aligned patrons felt similarly to Jimmy, as drunken, angry rambling began to win out over the celebrating of the Snappers fans. There were a few errant scrapes of porcelain dishes on countertop, before there were eventually some that shattered on the ground as the patrons grew more irritated with one another.
Jimmy was too lost grumbling to himself and watching the stupid ginger losers rubbing their not-earned trophy in everyone's faces. He could lose a few plates. He was more worried about the various bets he lost because of this…
Trev walked up to his boss, his own glittery white and gold jersey now stained with what looked and smelled like beer. He watched the older man for a few long beats before sighing, "Tough break, Jimmy." He mumbled. "But hey, we'll get 'em next year!" He said enthusiastically. It was sweet, almost enough to make Jimmy smile despite his sour mood.
"Yeah yeah, whatever, what do I care about some stupid football game anyway?" He huffed, turning and grabbing the first thing he saw, which happened to be a bus tub. He went around, mindlessly beginning the long process of cleaning up after these drunk idiots he unfortunately depends on. Trev watched him stress clean and grumble to himself before deciding it would be best to let Jimmy get it out in his own way.
Last call was almost as soon as the game ended, and thankfully, blessedly, everyone was gone no less than 30 minutes later. Although Jimmy, Trev, and the kids were busy with cleanup for a while; having many more beer glasses and mugs to clean than usual, not to mention an unusually disgusting amount of food and liquid on the floor.
At some point Andy and Ollie managed to fall asleep while standing up holding one broom at the same time. Jimmy noticed the twins and sighed, only half exasperated, "Pepper, take them upstairs and get yourselves to bed." He told his oldest in a hushed tone.
Jimmy Jr nodded, looking equally exhausted himself, and meandered over to his little brothers and half-dragged them back to where the stairs were. Jimmy shook his head and pinched his nose at the sight.
Trev chuckled, which reminded Jimmy that Trev had opened that day and was still here, still working. A sudden sense of uncharacteristic pity settled in his chest and had Jimmy groaning a moment later as he let out a sigh, "Why don't you spend the night, Trev. You've done enough. Head upstairs. Make yourself… comfortable." He said a bit awkwardly, not used to when his more… compassionate emotions got the better of him.
Trev smiled at him, sweet and soft and purely exhausted, which was made more evident by his lack of protest as he silently finished what he was doing and headed upstairs. Jimmy couldn't help but watch him as he went. Probably just… making sure he got up okay.
A few minutes later, Jimmy was alone in the silent, dark restaurant, mumbling about having to pick shattered glass out of one of his few live plants, when suddenly the door, which should have been locked, opened with a crash and was accompanied by a fair amount of stumbling and babbling.
Jimmy righted himself, ready to bark out a warning about calling the cops- but he stopped as he saw Bob catching his breath while leaning on one of the tables. While his irritation rose, he realized he couldn't call the cops on Bob… not anymore anyway. That Bosco guy definitely had a thing for Bob, so nothing ever came of Jimmy's complaints.
So he just crossed his arms, sneering down at his rival, knowing exactly what was going to be said and feeling like taking a bit of control over it would feel good. "I know why you're here Bob." He huffed.
Bob was giggling at seemingly nothing, while trying to get himself to stand upright.
"So what, the Hockers lost! It was their only loss all season!" Jimmy barked, losing his dignity in an attempt to keep it.
Bob seemed to collect himself enough to get upright, and he rested against the table while looking at Jimmy through his hazy eyes.
"My bet was foolproof! And it was a fluke that your dumb… ugly… no-soul ginger team somehow won-" Jimmy sneered, just thinking out those oddly festive idiots winning got his blood boiling.
Bob snorted, "I knew they would win-" He slurred, and Jimmy was a bit surprised for a moment as he realized he had never seen Bob quite so sloshed. He could smell the liquor on his breath from where he was. "And you came into my restaurant and made this whole big scene-" He let out a loud, ear-piercing laugh at the memory he was recalling of just a few days prior. "And you made me make a bet with you, in front of Linda and Teddy and Mort, and that guy with the stupid hat that chews too loud, and Gretchen, and Trev-! So everyone saw you, and everyone will know. That. You. Lost!" Bob was nearly hysterical, slapping his own leg and the tabletop as he was reduced to a fit of laughter.
Jimmy, after already enduring his fair share of degrading comments from his customers as they left, and a few unpleasant phonecalls with his "buddies" from the yacht club, practically felt the vein popping out on the side of his head as Bob rubbed in his win. But Jimmy couldn't really find the words to say- no amount of overconfidence could heal his very wounded pride. He let Bob laugh and gloat while he kept cleaning, stewing embarrassedly about the scene he made the other day at Bob's place. Now that his team lost and he therefor lost their bet, his theatrics were mortifying, and he wished sometimes he could keep his damn mouth shut.
But he wasn't one to try and back out of a bet, even if he lost, even if the 'favor' Bob won would probably be really embarrassing for him. He wasn't happy about it- he was furious actually- but he wasn't a sissy that couldn't keep his end of a deal.
Jimmy was wiping down a particularly gross table, one covered in beer and crumbs and crumpled napkins, when Bob wobbled over to him. Jimmy sighed as his idiot neighbor hovered around him, the nose-wrinkling stench of cheap liquor made his stomach churn. "Alright Bob, I get it, you won the bet. Even though I still think you cheated." That last part was mumbled hushedly as he swiped the napkins off the table and into the trashcan he had pulled over. "So what do you want? Huh? Just spit it out already, ya hairy drunk." Jimmy snapped.
Bob just giggled again, while he eyed Jimmy up and down. Jimmy huffed, not appreciating being toyed with in his hour of weakness. He was embarrassed and humbled enough, he really didn't need this from Bob of all people.
"C'mon, out with it!" Jimmy barked, "What, you want, uh, me to close for a day and stand outside my restaurant to send people to your greasy dive?" He suggested angrily, just wanting Bob out of his place to deal with him when he had the energy, and not after a long and disappointing day. Bob wasn't replying, just grinning at him like an idiot. "Okay, so you want me to strip down to my underwear and rollerskate through Lobsterfest next week?"
Honestly, these had been Jimmy's (slightly altered) ideas that he was going to pick from to make Bob do, since his team was supposed to win. He had some really good things picked out, he grumbled quietly as he realized he wouldn't get to make Bob embarrassed himself this time.
Bob laughed, a bit sinisterly, even in his drunken state, "Oh no, Jimmy, I have something… much more fun in mind." He rumbled, his voice having dropped very low thanks to the liquor in his system.
Jimmy made a disinterested sound, still focussing his irritated energy on getting the table clean, "I'm sure whatever you thought of is just as dumb as your big dumb face and stupid musta- Hey! What the hell are you doing?" Jimmy was interrupted when Bob grabbed his wrist, hard, and with a near shocking amount of strength, pulled Jimmy around, kicking a chair out of the way, and shoving the other man against the table. Jimmy went to turn, an equal parts confused and pissed off expression on his face, "I don't know what
your damage is Bob, but keep your greasy hands offa' me-" He was interrupted again as Bob squared up behind him, pinning his legs against the table and grabbing the back of Jimmy's neck, pushing him face-down on the tabletop.
Jimmy let out a gasp, a shock rushing through him as he realized the position he was in, and the… thing now being pressed against his ass. Bob reeked of tequila as he leaned down, hot breath on Jimmy's ear as he giggled, "You've got a real loud mouth, Jimmy- but I do like it when you say my name." He said, sounding like he could barely articulate words anyway.
Jimmy, face going red with embarrassment, spat out, "What the hell are you doing Bob, let me go-!"
But Bob just laughed and rolled his hips forward, feeling Jimmy tensing up beneath him. "Hmm, I don't think so. I won the bet, and the deal was, whoever wins gets to make the loser do whatever they want." He explained, although Jimmy knew what they had agreed to and was only annoyed that it was being re-explained. "So this is what I want Jimmy." Bob whisper-yelled in his ear as he grabbed Jimmy's hip with one hand and lazily rolled his chub against his backside.
Jimmy, for the first time, felt his irritation give way to genuine surprise, or more specifically- fear. He realized he was trapped, legs pinned, bent into a position that offered him no leverage or upper hand, and a very drunk and surprisingly strong man dry humping him. He didn't know what had gotten into Bob, but he realized the situation needed a bit of sense, seeing as how Bob had none currently.
"Bob, let me up. You don't want this." Jimmy sighed, defeated, and at this point just wanting to be released so he could finish cleaning and go to bed. "You're wasted, probably tired. Just go home and horndog your wife instead." He didn't know why Bob would come all the way over here just to pull some drunken stunt; maybe Linda was asleep. Maybe Linda kicked him out cos he was too drunk. That thought made Jimmy chuckle. "I'm not feeling too much back there though so maybe its best to cut your losses. Zoom!" He laughed, a bit of his usual piss and vinegar returning as he teased his friend.
His joking was interrupted as Bob grabbed a handful of his well-coiffed hair and pulled Jimmy's head back, "No no no, you're not getting out of this one Jimmy." He babbled in a sing-song, "I'm cashing in my win-" He burped, loud and gross. The smell made Jimmy cringe, "- so you have to do whatever I want." He whispered, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin behind Jimmy's ear.
Jimmy shivered, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking off the intrigue that was rolling through him in warm waves. He didn't want this, no way.
Before Jimmy could get any words out, his eyes shot open wide and he gasped as he felt Bob pull off his apron and reach a hand around to fumble with the front of his pants. "Bob, stop-!" Jimmy squeaked, "This is crazy-!" He insisted, unable to do anything as Bob pulled his pants and underwear down, and before he could protest any further, Bob reached around and stuck his fingers in Jimmy's mouth.
"No you're crazy!" Bob bit back, although he probably didn't really know what he was saying. "Whatever I want Jimmy- those were the rules!" He slurred, making sure to push his fingers as far into Jimmy's mouth as he could.
Jimmy resisted the urge to bite Bob's fingers, humbled embarrassment making him feel like this was all earned; he lost his overconfident bet and now he was going to have to pay the price. Even if it wasn't what he was expecting.
His partial compliance definitely had nothing to do with how turned on he was by all this rough, handsy treatment.
Bob pulled his fingers out once they were wet and brought them down to Jimmy's ass, pressing through his cheeks to his tight entrance and slathering the drool over the area. "This is what I want, Jimmy- the ultimate win!" Bob barked with a near hysterical giggle.
Jimmy shivered, biting his lip and willing himself to relax, knowing this would be over faster if he complied. His face was blazing with embarrassment, and definitely not arousal, as he felt Bob push a finger into him. Hot electricity shot through his lower half and made his legs feel weak.
"Wow, Jimmy, I thought I'd have to fight you… at least a little bit." Bob pointed out, sounding genuinely surprised as he pushed his finger in and out, "But you just let me right in!" He laughed, all too pleased with himself, "Maybe you wanted this to happen-! You lost the bet on purpose-!" He said as he pushed in another finger, making Jimmy moan.
"Are you nuts?" Jimmy barked, although his voice was lilted and breathy, not at all as angry as he wanted it to sound, "I never lose! Certainly not on p-purpose- oh god-!" He paused and whined as a third wet finger was pressed into him, which really started to burn as he was stretched out. He tried his best to turn and glare at his rival, "So don't flatter yourself- ahh- I never thought you would pull a s-stunt like this…" He muscled out through his heavy breaths, his hands gripped into fists as Bob fingered him open, being more than generous as he curled his fingers around inside and sent hot, tingling waves through Jimmy's body despite Jimmy trying his damndest to not feel good from this.
Bob chuckled, "Whatever you say, Jimmy." He slurred, palming himself through his pants as he stretched and scissored Jimmy's ass open for him. He wouldn't admit it, even sloshed out of his mind, but Bob had wanted to do this for a long time. Whether it was a power play, or maybe a hint of genuine attraction, or just wanting to see this overconfident dickhead put in his place- he didn't know, but he was just drunk enough to finally act on whatever it was.
And with an oddly supportive, pre-discussed 'okay' from Linda about this exact thing, Bob's head was swimming with just how great this was turning out. Even if this did seem a little… uncouth. He didn't dwell on the thought long, since he never thought Jimmy would cooperate so easily! It made any uncertainties fly out the window as soon as they came in.
Besides; he was the winner, he won the bet. This was his time.
Bob pulled his fingers out, dragging out a whine from Jimmy, and he got to work pulling down his own pants just enough to free his aching cock.
Jimmy trembled with… excitement? Anger? Embarrassment? And waited for the next move. He gasped quietly as he felt Bob's cock against his ass; it felt heavy and hot and thick. Jimmy's mouth dried up a bit just feeling it rested on the curve of his ass.
"You're really gonna let this happen Jimmy." Bob said in enthused disbelief as he got himself ready, "This easily? Over a stupid bet?" He chose not to say anything else to the matter, because there was no way this wasn't happening now, even if Jimmy suddenly came to his senses and tried to back out.
Jimmy made a noise through his teeth, "A bets a bet, Bob." He snapped, "Maybe your word is worth about as much as your third-rate so-called food, but my word is law!" He pointed out huffily. Bob just rolled his eyes at the dramatics, deciding to just let Jimmy think whatever he wanted to think; since he was clearly into this and likely didn't know how to feel.
Bob, a little too excited, spit into his hand enough to slather over his cock, and then spit again onto his fingers to rub over Jimmy's stretched asshole. He took his cock in hand and rubbed the head over the hole, shifting his hips to get the best angle to push in. "Oh my god I can't believe this is really happening." Bob whispered in that high, shrill tone he used when he got excited.
"Shut up-" Jimmy mumbled, although his voice was little more than an aggravated whimper at this point. His face was beat red and he was waiting not so patiently for Bob to just fuck him already.
Bob giggled maniacally as he popped the head of his cock into Jimmy, groaning as he did, and grinning smuggly down at his rival who whined and writhed beneath him. He lingered there for a while, just appreciating seeing Jimmy Pesto of all people bent over and stretched over his cock. It made his brain buzz happily, like the ultimate ego boost; he felt like he was on top of the world.
Jimmy was getting impatient, he could feel Bob just staring at him, but in this position he couldn't even turn around to affectively stare back. It was embarrassing, humiliating, being in such a compromised position in the middle of his own restaurant, and having the hairy beast of Ocean Avenue rubbing in his win by drawing this out. The least his greasy companion could do was move- get this over with quickly.
Jimmy definitely didn't just want his brains to get fucked out by what felt like a thick, girthy cock attached to this oddly charming frycook from across the street.
Bob apparently had enough of the view, and he pushed Jimmy's shirt up, grabbing his waist and pulling the thinner man down over his cock a little too quickly. Jimmy made a choked-off whine and his nails dug into the wooden tabletop. Bob felt his body clench around him, but his mind was swimming in pure, drunken lust, so he didn't stop. He pushed in, ignoring Jimmy's protests and whines and gasps, until he was bottomed out inside his rival.
"Mh, B-bob-" Jimmy whined, obviously trying to keep some of his composure despite the hardy mix of pain and pleasant heat rolling through him. He bit his lip and tried to stay relaxed, even though Bob was thicker than anything he'd taken before, and even the slightest movement stung his over-stretched ass.
He wasn't going to break. No matter how good or bad it felt, he wasn't going to give Bob any extra satisfaction from this.
Until, of course, about 5 minutes later, when Bob was throwing his full body weight in and out of Jimmy, and the brunette was moaning and gasping with each table-rocking thrust.
Bob was leaned forward, one hand braced on the table, the other squeezing Jimmy's neck and keeping his head up so Bob could watch his face contort with pleasure. He smirked as he watched Jimmy continuously trying to look pissed off, only for Bob to ram his cock into the brunette's prostate and draw out a whiny moan and delirious smile.
He never thought Jimmy would be so fun to fuck, he thought for sure this would be a disaster- if it happened at all. Who would have guessed all it took was a little roughness and a few minutes to get Jimmy Pesto messy for cock.
"Oh fuck, just like that, Bob- ahh!" Jimmy moaned when Bob shifted his hips, now hitting a new, deliciously sensitive bundle of nerves inside him.
Bob complied, still amazed that Jimmy was so compliant and vocal, keeping his angle and pace as steady as he could, considering how drunk he was and how badly his hips were hurting already. He smirked as the repeated motion had Jimmy's body trembling and pushing back against him, meeting every thrust eagerly.
"I like it when you say my name-" Bob moaned against Jimmy's ear, slowing his roll for a minute to really press into Jimmy, to stretch him as far as he could and put that pressure into him. It also conveniently gave him time to catch his breath, which was heaving, and for his hips to recover a bit- with the added bonus of the long, low moans Jimmy was letting out.
Jimmy scratched at the table for some kind of purchase, trying to breath as his body was overwhelmed, and trying to not to openly moan like a cheap whore- he was embarrassed enough.
After a few agonizing minutes of Bob barely moving, Jimmy found his voice, "You still alive back there, grandpa?" He chuckled, although it came out nearly as a moan.
Bob burped and made some other god awful noise through his lips, and Jimmy cringed a bit feeling Bob's spittle on his bare back, "Don't call me grandpa, m'not a grandpa. And I'm only like…" He paused for a worryingly long time, "Like maybe 2 years older than you… butthead." He slurred, beginning to lazily rolled his hips again, dragging his heavy cock in and out of Jimmy, who moaned breathily at the renewed movement.
Bob's hands found their way down to Jimmy's ass, grabbing the plump skin and squeezing greedily. He spread them to get a better view of himself disappearing into his rival, letting out a low rumbling chuckle at the sight. He let his hands drift upwards, over Jimmy's squishy hips and to the curve of his waist, which he grabbed and hummed in appreciation. Out of curiosity, he pushed down on the center of Jimmy's back, grinning ear to ear when his rival whined softly and pressed his front half lower while his ass stayed up.
"Y'know, I think you're pretty, Jimmy-" Bob slurred, feeling a slight headrush.
Jimmy tensed up, his haze gone for a moment as he was surprised to hear something so… inappropriately tender, come out of Bob's mouth. That was certainly not something he had been called before. Except maybe by Trev when the kid drank too much.
But it seemed whatever lapse in Bob's horny stupor happened was gone in an instant as he started back up ramming into Jimmy, using the grip on his waist to jackhammer into the thinner man.
Jimmy's thoughts were gone too as his lower half lit up with sparks and he was back to moaning and trying to pretend he wasn't super into this.
As it turned out, Bob knew exactly how to use that thing, and he had the stamina one might expect from a man half his age. He was also very generous with that surprisingly filthy mouth, moaning out deplorable things in the heat of the moment that had even Jimmy going red and moaning despite himself. He would lean down, breathing heavily, sweaty forehead pressed to Jimmy's back but not at all letting up with his hard, desperate thrusts. "Your ass is s-so good, Jimmy- fuck-" Bob whined, sounding so far gone and lost in the wonderful pressure sucking on his cock.
Jimmy's eyes rolled back and he whined, and he couldn't help but distantly note that he didn't think he would ever be able to look at himself in the mirror after this. These noises that were coming out of him were unacceptable and humiliating.
Bob grunted, his hips stuttering for a moment, "Crap-" Bob gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and fighting off the intense wave of pleasure that just hit him. He grabbed Jimmy's neck and slammed him down on the table, putting all his weight onto him and pushing into his sensitive, overused asshole. His eyes fluttered closed as the heat grew unbearable, "Say my name- Jimmy. Say my name. Beg for it-" He ordered, although his voice was breathy and lacked composure.
Jimmy, barely holding on as he was jackhammered into, barely understood what was being asked of him, he was far too busy trying not to cum. He wouldn't go first, he would maintain that small victory over Bob, even if Bob didn't notice or care.
After a minute with no response from Jimmy, Bob's desperate arousal turned to irritation. He stepped back, despite the fact that pulling his cock free of that wonderfully tight heat was the last thing he wanted to do, and pulled Jimmy up with him, flipping the thinner man around to face him.
He reared a hand back and slapped that stupid, pretty, tan, handsome, dumb face, adding a red handprint to the already flush skin on Jimmy's cheek. Jimmy moaned breathily and his eyes fluttered after the painful contact- Bob felt a primal urge rush through him at that. Bob wasted no time in lifting Jimmy up and pushing him back down on the table, on his back this time, legs hiked up around Bob's waist as Bob lined himself back up and roughly plowed back into Jimmy's ass.
The younger man cried out as he was filled again, a slight sharp pain driving him absolutely nuts. Bob's hand found his throat and squeezed, while his other grabbed Jimmy's woefully neglected cock, which drew a sharp whine out of him. Bob grinned drunkenly, very pleased with this new position; he could see every desperate, embarrassed, lustful, dazed expression cross Jimmy's face. He could see the subtle twitch of his brows when Bob hit his insides in a certain way, he could see the soft parting of his lips as he gasped, and loved every time Jimmy's hazy green eyes would roll back and give way to another strangely desperate moan.
Bob stayed diligently stroking Jimmy's cock while still shoving into him repeatedly, sweaty thighs meeting sweaty thighs with each thrust. Jimmy was whining softly with every motion, a fucked-senseless smile on his face. Bob thought it was a good look on him.
A moment later, that overwhelming heat returned, and Bob's pace stuttered for a moment before picking up again, pushing forward harder and faster than before, getting a good loud rise out of Jimmy, who gripped the sides of the table for dear life. "Oh god, I'm gonna-" Bob gasped, eyes screwed shut, "Mmh! Say my name, Jimmy. Say it-" He ordered, his voice a bit more effectively gruff and aggressive this time. He pried his eyes open enough to look at Jimmy, to grab his throat and make intense, purposeful eye contact. "Beg Jimmy." He nearly growled, so close to the edge he was practically teetering on it.
Jimmy stared at Bob, once again a bit shocked by the behavior- he didn't think Bob could be so rough or commanding, not even in bed. He hated that he liked it so much…
"Goddammit-" Jimmy whined, conceding in his mortified arousal, the intensity of the moment and the look in Bob's eye were too much coupled with the double stimulation. His ass felt so good filled with Bob's cock, and Bob's hand felt amazing around his cock, and Bob looked weirdly confident and domineering while leaning over him and railing him within an inch of his life. Jimmy wanted so badly to be hating this.
"Don't stop-!" Jimmy moaned, deciding that keeping up his little charade was pointless, and he so desperately needed to cum he would leave his pride at the door. "Fuck me, Bob! I want your fat fucking cock to rearrange my insides-" He spat, raising his hips and using his new leverage to swing himself down hard to meet Bob's thrusts. The feeling was sensational, he felt Bob's cock pressing into him, every hot inch like a flame he was very aware of. Like he was being sheathed over a hot iron spike and loving every messy second of it.
Jimmy gasped as his prostate was milked, with his rival's annoyingly perfect thrusts at the annoying perfect angle to make Jimmy see stars. "Oh fuck yeah, Bob-" He groaned, grinning deliriously, "God your cock is so good- shit!" He whined, which turned into a dizzy laugh as he felt Bob's cock twitching and his thrusts growing sloppily in response to him talking. He focused on Bob's face, taking in his shut eyes and open mouth as his own little victory. Bob liked hearing how well he was doing, and if Jimmy could have that little control over him he would take it.
"Jimmy…" Bob moaned low and long, his thrusts becoming quick and short as he kept most of himself buried inside Jimmy's ass, his brain beginning to fizzle out from how good it felt.
Jimmy, his voice dropping to a lusty rumble, sat up, keeping Bob inside him while grabbing the collar of Bob's grease-stained shirt. "That's it Bob, just like that- mmh-" He rolled his head back, letting Bob grab his waist and pull him closer to the edge of the table. "Cum. Inside me." Jimmy demanded, "Finish this right, knock me up, ruin me with your disgusting little chode-"
Bob gasped as he came, grabbing Jimmy and pulling him closer, breathing in the oddly alluring mix of aftershave, beer, and sex that lingered on Jimmy's skin.
Jimmy, on his part, moaned deliriously, cumming hard as soon as he felt Bob shoot his hot seed up inside him, buried to the hilt and emptying himself into his ass. It lasted longer than Jimmy would have thought it would, and it felt better than he would have thought. It was hot and wet, and when he was full and couldn't take anymore it felt disgustingly lewd as Bob's thick cum squeezed out of him and around Bob's cock, creating a sticky mess between them. Jimmy was a trembling, whining mess, his body lost to the numbness of pleasure, only being held upright by Bob.
They stayed like that, both heaving as they tried to catch their breath, until Bob groaned and slumped forward, dropping down on top of Jimmy and pinning him to the table.
It took a minute for Jimmy to get his senses back enough to realize the weight on his chest was uncomfortable and making it hard to breath, not to mention his ass was beginning to throb unpleasantly from the rough treatment. He groaned, "Get offa me Bob-" He grunted as he tried to push Bob off him. It didn't work, even after a few tries, Jimmy just didn't have the leverage. "God you're like a beached whale-" Jimmy huffed.
He smacked what parts of Bob he could reach, trying to rouse him from his post-coitus nap. After a couple minutes, Bob snorted as he woke up. "Finally. Y'know if it weren't for your breathing I woulda thought you died." Jimmy poked, finally able to breath right as Bob heaved himself upright. "How embarrassing would that have been for you." He snorted out a laugh, rolling himself up on his elbows and watching Bob collect himself enough to stand upright.
"Buh, I don't feel so good." Bob groaned, holding his head and wobbling a bit, "Maybe getting this drunk was'a bad idea-" He burped, slapping a hand over his mouth and swallowing the vomit that rose with it.
Jimmy huffed, "Yeah yeah good for you, now can you get out of me, please. You had your fun." He snapped.
Bob looked down, like he had forgotten what they were doing, and hummed appreciatively at the sight. Despite how oversensitive he was, it still looked and felt good being inside Jimmy. "Oh yeah-" He giggled, slowly pulling himself out.
Jimmy gasped, his legs instinctively opening a little wider as the pressure was finally gone from his lower half and he felt the cum begin to bubble out of him. It felt disgustingly good, and he let his eyes flutter closed while he enjoyed the sensation and the leftover rolling heat from their coupling.
Bob watched for a minute too, finding it strangely erotic as his cum slid out of Jimmy and onto the table and floor. It was almost enough to make him want to go again. But the looming sense of needing to vomit prompted him to close up his pants to leave. He would settle for the added bonus of knowing Jimmy was going to have to clean up his cum off the floor.
Jimmy sighed, looking down at what a mess he was for the first time with a clear mind, and he cringed. He smelled gross and looked like a cheap whore. It didn't help that Bob was fully clothed and beginning to wobble towards the door.
"Good game, Jimmy-" Bob slurred, heavily leaning on the wall, "Let m'know if you ever wanna bet aga-" He stopped, a heaving, strained noise coming out of him, "Again-" He tried, but the same noise came out again and he gripped at his stomach.
Jimmy just rolled his eyes as Bob threw up all over his floor, mentally adding that to his still lingering cleaning list. "Very sexy Bob, your wife is a lucky lady." He deadpanned, pulling on his own pants despite the mess between his legs.
Bob groaned as he fumbled to open the door, "Oh god it got on your doormat-" He grumbled, "I'll replace that-" He burped.
Jimmy stood with his hands on his hips, looking at the mess that Bob was, "A doormat? On your salary?" He teased, laughing when Bob very drunkenly flipped him off.
Eventually Bob did leave, and Jimmy stepped over his vomit to lock the door, sighing heavily as he did. He wanted to be embarrassed, to be angry that Bob had started everything that just transpired, and even angrier that it felt good.
But he was tired, and now he was sore and felt disgusting, so he pushed his trepidations away, writing it off as a lost bet. He had lost bigger bets with worse consequences in college anyway; Bob could never dish anything Jimmy couldn't take.
So he went to clean, limping over to grab his mop and deal with the various messes on the floor first. He would definitely need to plug in a couple new air fresheners to cover up the lingering smells.
°~°~°
The next morning, Jimmy woke up late, his head pounding from the previous night, and his hips still sore. He hobbled out and into the kitchen, eyeing Trev still asleep on his couch in the living room. He smiled to himself and moved into the kitchen, flipping on his coffee maker and pulling out two mugs.
It was a teacher work day at Wagstaff, so the kids would likely be sleeping till noon if not later, which Jimmy was grateful for. He didn't want to deal with the little ankle biters, at least not until he was more awake and didn't feel like ass.
He poured and drank his coffee, enjoying the stillness of his apartment for a few minutes before placing his now empty cup in the sink. He poured another cup of coffee, mixing in a good amount of sugar and cream into it, and carried it to the living room. He set it on the coffee table and gently roused Trev from his sleep, "I'm headed down, come when you're ready." He said softly before heading to the door.
Trev mumbled out a very sleepy, "Thanks Jimmy." That Jimmy tried not to smile at as he headed down the stairs to the restaurant.
Once in the Pizzeria, Jimmy began pulling the chairs off the tables before slipping behind the bar and unlocking the liquor cabinet, setting up the bottles on the higher display shelves, and getting the tills in the registers for the day.
He was busy taking the temperatures in the coolers when he heard a faint knock. He stuck his head around the door and looked out to the front, surprised to see a very very hungover looking Bob tapping on the glass of his door. Jimmy sighed, deciding to just ignore him and go back to scratching the temperatures on his clipboard. He didn't want to deal with Bob right now, he was already over what happened, and he really didn't need Bob rubbing it in the next day.
The tapping persisted, and he could faintly hear Bob calling his name through the glass. Eventually, Jimmy conceded, slamming the cooler door and dropping his clipboard, huffily walking to the door and opening it. He crossed his arms and stood in the doorway, not keen on letting Bob in. He looked the older man over with a grimace, "You look like shit." He said bluntly.
Bob sighed, "I know. I feel like it too." He pointed out. He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Jimmy, obviously struggling with what to say.
Jimmy was already impatient, "You here to rub it in some more?" He sneered, a bit of genuine contempt sneaking into his tone.
Bob shook his head and put his hands up, "No… no Jimmy, that's not…"
Jimmy bristled, "What then? You wanna see the bruises you left, sicko?" He snapped, untucking his shirt and lifting it up just enough to show off the dark fingertip bruises around his waist and hips.
Bob stared, looking mortified and guilty, even when Jimmy fixed his shirt and went back to crossing his arms. He mumbled, trying not to seem too pleased that he had Bob looking like he was gonna puke again.
"What more do you want, Bob?"
"I'm sorry, Jimmy! I wanted to say I'm sorry!" Bob snapped suddenly, grabbing Jimmy's shoulders and shaking the irritating man just a bit.
Jimmy blinked hard, looking surprised before his expression turned angry again, "Hey paws off, greasetrap-!" He shrugged Bob off, "You don't get to manhandle me just cos of last night. "Pull that shit again and I'll kick your out of shape ass!" He barked in his usual tone, jabbing a finger at Bob.
Bob put his hands up and took a step back, "No- god no Jimmy I could… never do that to you again." He stuttered, sounding genuinely troubled by the thought. "I just-" He sighed heavily, rubbing his face, "I just don't know where to begin, how I acted was completely unacceptable-"
Jimmy interrupted with a pssh, "That's an understatement."
"Yes, you're right, it is!" Bob continued. "My point is no matter how much of a jerk you are, no matter how much of an ass you made of yourself when we made that bet, and no matter how much I despise you most of the time… you didn't deserve that." He finally got out, his voice broken and raised anxiously. "I'm horrible. I'm… I'm the worst. I don't don't deserve forgiveness, but I'm still so sorry Jimmy."
Jimmy eyed him for a while, surprised by the genuine remorse he could see on Bob's face. He tried so hard to let one of his signature, shit-eating grins take over his face, and he wanted so badly to be rubbing Bob's self depreciation back in his face. This should be a victory for him, he should feel on top of the world after almost literally bringing Bob to his knees.
But it didn't feel like a victory, it didn't feel good or triumphant. It felt bad. He felt bad. Sure, what Bob did was… not technically okay- but it's not like Jimmy didn't end up wanting it. Nor did he really try to stop him. In fact Jimmy was more or less compliant from the moment Bob shoved him down on the table. And it had only taken a few minutes for Jimmy, totally sober and of sound mind, to end up moaning and begging for more. Who was he to let this generally good, honest, family man feel so terrible about it.
The sinking feeling that he had taken advantage of a drunk man's irrationality sat uncomfortably in his chest.
Jimmy cleared his throat tensely, "Hey uh… don't worry about it, 'Kay?" He mumbled, his gaze flicking between the ground and Bob's piteous expression. "It wasn't uh…" He hesitated as he fumbled with how awkward this felt, his face going red, "It wasn't bad." He concluded with a noticeably forced nonchalant-ness.
Bob looked crookedly at him, "What? Really?" He stammered, "You mean you… wanted that?"
Jimmy's face went even redder as he sputtered embarrassedly, "Woah hey don't flatter yourself!" He huffed and crossed his arms, "I just don't need you feeling all sorry for yourself. You're already enough of a mess."
Bob blinked hard a few times, wondering if he was really hearing this right. Not only was he being absolved of what he thought was, at the very least, pressuring the younger man into sex- but it was after all Jimmy Pesto. The man who had almost never said a kind word to him throughout their relationship, the man who went out of his way to make sure Bob felt as shitty as possible at all times. That same man was… being kind, and trying to help him feel better by admitting something that was probably mortifying to him. Even just with a few huffy words he got his point across. It was odd, but Bob realized that was Jimmy's only way of being thoughtful and compassionate. The disinterested, casual sounding comments were Jimmy's way of saying he wasn't hurt or upset.
"So you gonna stand in my doorway smelling like a hangover all day, or are you gonna leave?" Jimmy barked after a few minutes of lingering under Bob's flummoxed stare.
Shaking his head, Bob chuckled, "No no, I'll go. I just…" He hesitated as he took a step back, carefully eyeing Jimmy. The younger man wasn't looking at him, and his cheeks were dusted with color as he put up a valiant, but ultimately futile front of irritation. "Glad you had a good time, Jimmy." Bob chuckled as he began to walk away, after careful consideration, deciding that Jimmy enjoying himself would explain his flustered, off put behavior.
His suspicions were basically confirmed as Jimmy guffawed and proceeded to stumble over his words as his face went red. "You- I didn't- With your little-! Ah-!" He groaned, turning back into his restaurant and letting the door slam behind him.
Bob just chuckled at the little tantrum, feeling a lot better and less sick than he did before.
Jimmy went back to his opening duties, grumbling angrily to himself the whole time while violently putting out wrapped silverware on the tables, "Stupid dumb Bob…" He muttered to himself, trying to pretend like he hadn't been admiring the bruises Bob left in the mirror, and definitely trying to pretend the memories of last night weren't replaying over and over in his head.