Work Text:
The locker room at the SDN building was a dimly lit sanctuary of echoing tiles and metallic clangs, the kind of place that smelled of shitty soaps and a hint of sweat that forever lingered. It was well past the usual rush hour, the building emptied out by this point, lockers slammed shut and footsteps long gone. The building felt empty, save for the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Waterboy lingered, as he often did in moments of quiet defeat, his lanky frame hunched over a bench like a wilting reed. He should have towered over everything given his lanky figure, but his posture - curled shoulders, head ducked low - kept him at a more approachable height, blending into the shadows rather than dominating them.
His first official day on the Z-team had been a disaster, or at least that's how it replayed in his mind: a stuttering mess of fumbled moves, anxious glances from teammates, and that constant drip of water leaking from his pores, soaking everything he touched. He wasn't cut out for this. Why had they even recruited him?.. Well, he knew why, he just couldn’t understand why. He peeled at the edge of his wetsuit, the material clinging to his skin like a second, suffocating layer of skin. Showering was a ritual he dreaded, how do you clean something that's always wet? At least it gave him something to do.
The door creaked open, and Waterboy's head snapped up, his heart starting up like a faulty engine. Robert Robertson stepped in, his broad frame filling the doorway with an effortless confidence that Waterboy envied. Robert was shirtless, the scarring on his chest emphasized under the lights, a white towel wrapped snugly around his waist. He carried himself with the ‘easy’ grace of someone who'd seen it all; the highs of successful operations, the lows of near-misses, and came out the other side with the same flat expression. He was noticeably shorter than Waterboy, but you'd never know it from the way he commanded a room.
Robert paused mid-stride, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. "Shit.. Hey, man. Didn't expect to see you still here. Thought everyone cleared out ages ago." His voice was warm, his usual roughness laced with that genuine fondness that always caught Waterboy off guard. It wasn't pity; it was something softer, like Robert saw the raw edges of Waterboy's naivety and found them endearing rather than exasperating. Waterboy straightened a fraction, his bad posture pulling him back down almost immediately. "O-Oh, uh... yeah. I’m just.. just... y'know, I-I’m finishing up." His words tumbled out in a rush, hands fidgeting with the zipper of his wetsuit. Gloveless, he could already feel the water as it leaked from his fingertips, pooling on the bench in tiny, anxious rivulets. He avoided Robert's eyes, staring instead at the tiled floor, where his reflection wavered like a ghost.
Robert tilted his head, studying him for a moment before crossing the room. He dropped his fucked-up gym bag on the bench opposite, the thud echoing softly. "Rough ‘first day’, huh? Saw you out there. You did good, even if it didn't feel like it." He leaned against a locker, arms crossed over his chest, his expression flat yet encouraging. No judgment, just that quiet understanding that made Waterboy's chest tighten in a way he couldn't quite name. Waterboy shrugged, his shoulders hunching further. "It was... fine. I mean, n-not really. Well, I’m.. I-I messed up on that, uh.. Last call, and everyone was staring, and I-I just... leak everywhere. It's, um.. I’m just a bit..." His voice cracked as his sentence fumbled off into nonsense, water seeping faster from his skin. He felt like a walking puddle, useless and out of place. How exactly do you say such strange thoughts to your boss without feeling dumb? ‘I’m embarrassed because I'm a sopping wet napkin’? Robert's face softened, and he stepped closer, bracing a hand on Waterboy's shoulder. The touch was firm but gentle, grounding. "Hey, easy there. First days are always a shitshow. Trust me, I've had my share. You think I didn't screw up my first shift? Nearly flooded the comms with bad intel. But you showed up, you tried, and that's more than half the battle." He squeezed lightly, his thumb brushing the slick material of the wetsuit. Waterboy's skin prickled under the contact, a flush creeping up his neck despite the cool room.
They talked.. Or rather, Robert talked, and Waterboy nodded along, interjecting with stutters and half-formed sentences. Robert shared a quick story from his early days of being an ‘actual hero’, laughing it off with that easy chuckle. It helped, even if just a little; the knot in Waterboy's stomach loosened, replaced by a tentative warmth. But the day still weighed on him, heavy and unrelenting.
After a few minutes, Robert glanced toward the showers, then back at Waterboy. "You look like you could use a cooldown. A shower might help wash it all away - literally, in your case." He grinned, the expression fond and teasing. Innocently, he kept his hand on Waterboy's shoulder, the other reaching for the front zipper of the wetsuit. "Here, let me give you a hand with that. These things stick like glue when they're wet."
Waterboy's eyes widened, his mouth opening in a frantic attempt to warn him. "W-wait, Robert, I-I don't- Hold on, i-it’s, it's not-" But Robert's voice overlapped his stutters, warm and reassuring as he tugged the zipper down a few inches. "Relax. We've all been there. Just breathe."
Ziiip.
The zipper slid smoothly at first, exposing a strip of pale skin.. And then, Robert froze. There, trailing down from Waterboy's navel, was a faint happy trail of dark hair, leading southward without any barrier. No boxers, no briefs, nothing. It made sense, in hindsight - The guy was a constant fountain; underwear would just turn into a soggy mess. But logic didn't prepare Robert for the sight, his hand still gripping the zipper tab, eyes locked on that unexpected reveal. Waterboy, on the other hand, went rigid, his face flushing a deep crimson. Silence crashed over them, broken only by the drip of water from Waterboy's body which was now quickly picking up in speed, only warmer now. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, his mind a whirlwind of embarrassment and something significantly hotter.
Reality hit Robert like a splash of cold water (or, in this case, warm). "Oh shit, uh.. Sorry, I didn't... I mean, I should've asked." He fumbled, clearing his throat awkwardly as his cheeks began to change tints, all while trying to yank the zipper back up. But it caught, snagged on the slick fabric. "Dammit, hold on." He tugged it down a fraction to free it, then up, only for it to stick again. Each attempt pulled it lower, inch by inch, revealing more: the curve of hip, the shadow of muscle, and then, well.. There was the unmistakable outline of Waterboy's arousal pressing against the thinning material. Hard, insistent, the imprint clear as day. Water leaked profusely now, not the usual cool trickle but warm, steaming, filling the air with a humid haze that clung to their skin.
Robert's breath hitched, his own body reacting before his brain could catch up. Lord. Lord, lord, LORD help him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd.. God. Years, maybe, since anything physical or emotional had stirred him like this. Dispatch work had consumed him, to be fair - dispatches, training, the endless grind. Hell, even back when he was a hero, there was never time to really.. ‘Think’ about fooling around. And porn? Not his thing; too detached, too fake. But this? Waterboy's raw, desperate response to his touch, his words - it was real, vulnerable, and it lit a fire in Robert's veins. His towel tented noticeably, the fabric straining against his growing erection. Pathetic? Maybe. But undeniable.
Waterboy's eyes darted down, then away, his whole body trembling. The steam rose thicker now, the room warming like a sauna, beads of moisture dotting Robert's chest and sliding down his abs. He could see it in Waterboy's flushed face, the way his breath came in short gasps: the guy craved reassurance, needed to hear he wasn't a mess, that this was okay. And Robert... God, he really needed this. No cameras here, no prying eyes, the building was empty.. Why not? A quick, heated encounter in the lockers - it wouldn't hurt. Hell, it might even help.
"Look at me," Robert murmured, his voice dropping lower, rougher than intended. He released the zipper, leaving it halfway down, and cupped Waterboy's jaw gently, tilting his head up. Their eyes met - Waterboy's wide and uncertain, Robert's dark with intent. "You're doing great, you know that? All day, pushing through. And now... this." His thumb traced Waterboy's lower lip, feeling the tremor there. "It's okay. You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact..." He leaned in closer, their bodies inches apart, the heat from Waterboy's leaks soaking into Robert's towel. "It's kinda flattering.. Seeing you like this because of me."
Waterboy whimpered softly, a sound that shot straight to Robert's core. "Robert... I-I, really, I.. didn't mean-"
Robert's hand slid down, tracing the exposed skin of Waterboy's chest, careful, exploratory. The water was warm, almost soothing, like a heated blanket wrapping around them both. "You've been holding it together all day. Let me help you unwind." He pressed forward, their bodies aligning, the hard line of Waterboy's erection brushing against Robert's thigh through the wetsuit. A groan escaped Robert's lips, unbidden, as he felt the heat radiating off him.
Waterboy's hands clutched at Robert's arms, slippery and unsure, but not pulling away. "I.. I don’t.. I mean.. H-Here?.."
"No one's coming in," Robert assured, his mouth brushing Waterboy's ear, voice a low rumble. "Just us. And you... you're incredible, you know? So genuine, so real. Makes me want to show you how good that feels." He tugged the zipper lower, more deliberately this time, exposing more of that happy trail, the base of Waterboy's length straining free. The air thickened with steam, their skin slick and flushed.
Robert's towel slipped a fraction as he ground against him, seeking friction, his own need pulsing hot and urgent. He wasn't great with words in moments like this (never had been, to be honest) but actions spoke louder. He captured Waterboy's mouth in a kiss, soft at first, then deeper, tasting the salt of anxiety and the sweetness of surrender. Waterboy melted into it, his tall frame arching despite the bad posture, hands roaming tentatively over Robert's back. The room was now a haze of warmth and want. Robert peeled the wetsuit down further, freeing Waterboy completely. "See? Perfect," he whispered, his hand letting go of the suit as his fingers delicately moved to trace his dick, watching Waterboy's face contort in pleasure.
Reassurances turning to touches, awkwardness dissolving into need. Robert would kiss at Waterboy a few more times before his mouth slowly began to move down - his body moving in sync as he was now kneeling between Waterboy’s legs, settling on the locker room floor. No rush, just that fond care mixed with raw hunger. He took his time, lips trailing down from his jaw to his neck, his chest, then the happy trail.. Robert found himself enjoying tasting the warm water that beaded everywhere. For the first time in years, he felt alive, connected - relief in the form of this slippery, genuine mess of a man who needed him as much as he needed this.
Robert's knees ached faintly against the cool tile of the locker room floor, but the discomfort was drowned out by the haze of heat enveloping them. Waterboy's thighs framed his view - long, lean limbs that trembled under his touch. His skin slick with that endless coat of warm water which was pulsing with the guy's anxiety and arousal, turning the air thick and steamy within minutes.. Robert's hands roamed greedily, mapping the contours of those thighs, sliding up to grip hips that bucked involuntarily. God, the warmth. It seeped into his palms, chased away the chill of the empty room, and stirred something primal in him. He hadn't done this in over a decade, not since those fumbling college nights when everything felt new and reckless. He was out of practice to say the least, his movements tentative at first, lips and tongue experimenting more than commanding.. But Waterboy didn't seem to mind; if anything, the guy's reactions spurred him on.
Waterboy arched his back against the bench, his lanky frame unfolding from its usual hunched form. A high, breathy whine escaped him as Robert went down on him deeper, the sound echoing off the lockers like a plea. "Ah, Robert, that's.. Oh mmmy.. M-My god," he gasped, fingers tangling in Robert's hair, clutching as if he was afraid to let go. Water leaked faster from his pores, hot drops trailing down his chest and pooling beneath them, soaking Robert's skin where they touched. It was messy, awkward. Robert had to pull back once or twice to catch his breath, wiping water from his eyes, but the heat of it all was intoxicating. He pressed his thumbs into the softer spots of Waterboy's inner thighs, spreading them wider, and dove back in with renewed focus. The noises Waterboy made were clearly out of pure desperation; soft whimpers that built into stuttering moans, each one laced with that naive wonder. "Mmmy g-g.. please, d-don't stop, it feels.. God, it.. Oh!.." His voice would crack, hips jerking up as Robert's tongue swirled experimentally. Robert felt himself throb in response, his own arousal straining painfully, untouched but insistent. Something about this - teasing out those sounds from a guy so fragile, so vulnerable - lit him up inside. Waterboy was a mess, towering over him even seated, but right now, he was unraveling, all because of Robert's clumsy efforts.
"You're doing so good," Robert murmured, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged. He wasn't great at this talking part, words felt clunky in his mouth, especially now.. But he could see how they landed, how Waterboy's eyes fluttered half-shut at the praise. "Look at you, holding on like that. So strong, even when you're shaking." He kissed the inside of one thigh, nipping lightly, and Waterboy let out a sharp cry, his whole body tensing. "Yeah, just like that. You're amazing, getting all wet just for me.." Waterboy's response was a choked sob, his head falling back against the locker with a dull thunk. "R-Robert... I, godd, I can't, you.. it's too much, you're... ngh!" Another moan tore from him as Robert resumed, slower this time, savoring the way the water turned everything hot n’ slippery. His hands wandered higher, tracing the ridges of Waterboy's ribs, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The guy's inexperience showed in every twitch, every hesitant thrust, but it only made Robert harder, his mind fogging with need. He hadn't felt this aroused in years.
But he couldn't finish like this. Not yet. The ache in his own body demanded more. With a reluctant groan, Robert pulled away, lips glistening, and crawled up Waterboy's frame. The bench creaked under their combined weight as he slotted himself between those long legs, capturing Waterboy's mouth in a messy kiss. Tongues met slowly at first, Waterboy's unsure, exploring like it was his first time, which it might as well have been. Robert deepened it, tasting salt and heat, his hands bracing on the bench on either side of Waterboy's thighs.
"God, you're incredible," he whispered between kisses, nuzzling into Waterboy's neck. "The way you sound... It's driving me crazy. You've got no idea how good you feel, how much I like seeing you like this." His words tumbled out, awkward but sincere, and Waterboy melted under them, a fresh wave of warm water surging from his skin to drench them both. "So open, so sweet. Keep making those noises for me.. Yeahh, just like that."
Waterboy obliged with a drawn-out whimper, his arms wrapping around Robert's back, slippery fingers digging in. "Uggh.. P-Pleasee, you... you're so... good to me." His voice was a stutter of pleasure, body arching up to press closer. As they got more comfortable, Robert made it a point to untangle his towel and toss it to the floor, leaving him bare and aching. He tugged at the remnants of Waterboy's wetsuit, peeling it off with urgent pulls until it joined the towel in a wet heap. Now that they were skin to skin, the friction was more than intense - warm water slicking every slide, turning awkward grinds into something fluid and desperate.
They rutted together on the bench, dicks rubbing in frantic, uncoordinated rhythms. Robert's hands gripped the edge for leverage, his hips rolling with a need he hadn't felt in ages. "Fuck, you're perfect," he panted, lips brushing Waterboy's ear. "All this heat coming from you.. it's like you're made for this. So tall, so strong, and yet you're letting me... yeah, grind just like that. You're doing amazing." The praise spilled out easier now, fueled by the way Waterboy whined at each word, his moans growing louder, more uninhibited.
"Oh, god, R-.. Robert, Jesus.. p-please...!" Waterboy's legs wrapped around him loosely, his bad posture forgotten in the arch of his spine. He was a tower of trembles, leaking water in hot spurts that steamed up the mirrors nearby. The room felt like a sauna, their bodies sliding effortlessly, the bench slick beneath them. Robert continued to pathetically thrust against him, chasing the friction, his own groans mixing with Waterboy's cries. "Mmm, l-like.. Like that! I-I feel… It’s so.. So good..." Robert chuckled breathlessly, kissing along his jaw. "That's it, let it out. You're handling this so well.. Better than anyone. Makes me want more of you." He wasn't sure where the words came from, but they worked; Waterboy's noises escalated, a string of whimpers and gasps that echoed throughout the room. "God, listen to yourself. So, uh.. So honest. It's hot as hell."
The grinding built to an even more pathetic, urgent frenzy - neither of them smooth, both chasing release in desperate bucks. Robert's mind wandered to the edge of curiosity: how far could this go? He was the ‘higher up’ here, the one with the authority, and yeah, this skirted lines that could land him in hot water with HR. But Waterboy's eyes, glassy and trusting, told a different story. The guy shifted beneath him, angling his hips higher, making himself more open, more accessible. It was subtle at first. A leg hitching up, a hand guiding Robert's waist - but the intent was clear. They were both craving the full plunge into whatever this was.
"You're killing me here," Robert murmured, slowing his movements to tease, his dick sliding hot and hard against Waterboy's. "The way you're moving... you want this bad, don't you? And you're so good at showing it." Waterboy nodded frantically, another moan escaping as he bucked up. "Ah, y-.. Yeah.. Robert, God, I-I do... please, you're making me... ngh..!" Robert captured his lips again, swallowing the sounds, his heart pounding. The praise flowed now, clumsy but effective: "So brave, opening up like this."
Something shifted in Robert's chest, a decisive click like a lock turning, sealing his fate; or maybe just theirs. There was no rationalizing this as a momentary lapse. He wanted this, needed to bury himself in the heat and vulnerability sprawled out before him. Robert pulled back abruptly, his breath coming in heavy pants, the steam from Waterboy's leaks clinging to his skin like a second layer. He stood, towering over the bench for a moment, his erection throbbing insistently in the humid air. Leaning down, he placed his hands on Waterboy's waist, fingers digging into the warm flesh - not hard, but firm enough to ground them both.
"Turn over-, or, no actually.. Uh, let's get you.." Robert started, his voice rough and amateurish, words tumbling out half-formed. Before he could finish, though, Waterboy moved - he moved with an eagerness that caught Robert completely off guard, twisting his long, lanky body with surprising grace. Those long ass legs, lean and trembling, slung over Robert's shoulders in one fluid motion, hooking at the ankles behind his neck. Waterboy's back arched slightly against the bench, his hips lifting to align perfectly, the invitation bold and in his face. A shy smile tugged at his lips, but there was a smug edge to it, like he'd been waiting for his cue to help. The guy's frame was built for this, which Robert once again took note of; tall and flexible, folding into position like it was second nature.
Robert blinked, a low chuckle escaping him despite the heat pooling in his gut. "Damn, you, uh... you sure about this?" He couldn't help the fondness in his tone, even as his hands slid up Waterboy's thighs, the warmth radiating from Waterboy's core making everything feel primed, open. No need for prep (because I'm too lazy to write all that out teehee xP); the guy's body was doing it all on its own, that constant leakage turning into a rather large pro as it invited Robert to explore further.
Waterboy's eyes held Robert's, that stutter softening into something bolder. "Y-yeah... I mean, yes. I've... thought about it. This. A lot." His voice cracked a little, but the words carried a dirty undercurrent, built up with the confidence the praise helped contribute to. He shifted his hips, pressing closer, the smug smile widening just a fraction. Where else would Waterboy have learned a move like this outside of insane amounts of late-night porn sessions? Was Robert a perv for thinking about that? Definitely. Either way, it worked. Robert felt himself harden even more, if that was possible - the idea of being the one to push this towering mess of a guy over the edge hitting him like a wave.
"You're full of surprises," Robert murmured, mostly to himself. One hand stayed braced on the bench, the other trailing down to cup Waterboy's ass, feeling the natural give, the warmth that pulsed there. "Look at you, all ready like this.. So flexible, so... open. Makes me want to take my time with you." His words were coming easier now, the awkwardness melting away as he saw how they landed. Waterboy's breath hitching, a soft moan spilling out. "Robert... please, I.." Waterboy whispered, his legs tightening slightly over Robert's shoulders, weakly pulling him closer. The stutter was fading, replaced by a needy edge. "God, I.. I want you. Want you inside... been thinking about how it'd feel." The water leaked hotter now, steaming between them, covering Robert's chest where it pressed against Waterboy's thighs. Robert groaned, aligning himself with Waterboy's ass, the tip of his dick brushing against the warm hole. "God, you're perfect for this. All this heat, this wetness.. Jesus, it's like you were made to take me." He teased lightly at first, pressing the tip in just an inch, feeling the give, the easy slide thanks to the natural lube. Waterboy gasped, his body clenching instinctively before relaxing, a high-pitched whine escaping him.
"Oh, f-fuuck, that's... Mmmph.." Waterboy moaned, his head tipping back, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. The sound was raw, sending a jolt straight through Robert. He pulled out slowly, the tip dragging, then pushed back in, deeper this time, testing the waters.. Literally. The warmth enveloped him, tight but yielding, with the water making every movement deliciously smooth. "You're taking it so well already," Robert praised, his voice low and steady. "Just like that.. Relax for me. Feel how good that is? That’s all you. So warm, pulling me in." He eased out again, the motion deliberate, building the tension. Waterboy's moans grew louder, a string of whiney sounds that filled the locker room. "Ooh.. M-my God.. Oh my..”
Robert would continue, thrusting the tip back in, holding it there longer this time, rolling his hips in a slow circle. "That's it, kid. You're doing amazing.. Look how you're opening up for me. All because of you, this heat... it's incredible." His free hand wandered, tracing Waterboy's firm erection, giving it a loose stroke that drew out a keening cry. "Mmm-, Christ!” He’d whimper, his voice struggling to come through. “Robert, t-that feels... so good. So, so.. I’m... I need more.." His words were braver now, Waterboy's stutter dissolving into gasps and pleas, his confidence blooming under the constant affirmations. Robert felt it too, the ease in his own voice, the way the praise flowed naturally. "God, this is hot. Well, you’re.. Also hot. Really hot. Like, in every sense." He pulled out once more, the tip hovering, then slid back in, pushing a bit further, feeling the tight heat give way. Waterboy's body arched, his long frame bending perfectly, the position allowing Robert to lean in, their faces inching closer to one another.
"Yes!.. fuck, yes.." Waterboy panted, his smug smile returning through the haze of pleasure. "I've... watched stuff like this. W-Wanted to try... with, um, someone like you." His admission was shy but bold, hands having moved to hold himself against the bench. Water leaked in fresh waves, hot and slick, coating them both, turning the bench into a slippery haven. Robert's breath caught at the confession, his hips stuttering forward. "Yeah? You've been thinking about this? About me? Aren’t you sweet.." He teased deeper, his dick sinking in halfway now, pulling back just enough to make Waterboy whine in protest. "Nghh.. Robert, c-c’mon.. Stooopp, p-ple-.. Don't pull out.." The words were filthy coming from that anxious mouth. How hot was that? He braced himself better, one hand under Waterboy's thigh for support, and pushed in again, easing past the resistance, the warmth swallowing him inch by inch now.
"You're incredible," Robert groaned, his forehead pressing against Waterboy's as he held still for a moment, letting them both adjust. "So tight, so fuckin’ warm.. Fuck, I’ll say it a thousand times, you're made for this. Taking me like a.. I don’t know, like a champ." He started to ease into a slow rhythm: in deeper, out to the tip, each thrust building, the water lubing every slide. Waterboy's moans escalated, a chorus of "Ah-! O-Ooh god, yes, ungh.. Right there!" filling the air, his body rocking to meet each movement.
Robert kissed him the best he could, messy and deep, tongues tangling as he continued the tease. "Keep talking like that," he murmured against Waterboy's lips. "Tell me how it feels. You're so good at this, bending for me, you’re the best.." Waterboy responded with a moan into the kiss, breaking away to gasp, "Feels... Ugh.. So good.. Want you all the way- Ungh, p-please.. Robert, fuck m-me.. Proper..?" The gentle, almost nervous plea snapped something in Robert. Suddenly, he moved to thrust deeper, not all the way yet, but close, pulling out to the tip before sliding back in with a wet, slick sound. "Like this? You want it like this?" His hand stroked Waterboy's side, soothing the trembles. "Look at you, legs over my shoulders, taking every bit. Made perfect to fuck, aren’t you?"
Waterboy's head lolled back, a long moan drawing out in response. "Mmm, y-yes! Deeper... I can take it. Been waiting for... Ah!" His words trailed into incoherence as Robert eased further, the rhythm steady but teasing. "You're so bendy, so perfect," Robert panted, nipping at Waterboy's neck. "All this water... it's like you're lubing us up on purpose. Makes sliding in so easy-, Fuck, you're tight as hell around me.." He pulled out almost completely, then thrust back in, deeper still, drawing a sharp cry from Waterboy: "Oh, fuck! Robert, that's... yes, more like that!" They traded words between thrusts by this point; Robert's praises growing more assured, Waterboy's responses dirtier, his stutter gone in the heat of the moment. "Say I.. Tell m-me I'm good.." Waterboy begged at one point, hips lifting to take more. Robert obliged immediately, of course: "You're good, so fucking good. Taking me so deep, making me feel this way. No one's ever... God, you're everything right now." The tease continued, Robert alternating shallow dips with deeper pushes, always pulling back just when Waterboy seemed on the edge of begging for full commitment.
The teasing eventually came to a full stop though, Robert’s own impatience finally pushing him over. One moment Robert was still playing, rolling his hips in slow and deliberate drags that made Waterboy whimper and clutch at the bench. And then the next moment, his own hunger caused him to fold, and Robert surged forward - burying himself inside with a single, rough thrust. The sound of wet skin on skin action cracked through the locker room, sharp and wet, and Waterboy’s back bowed off the bench with a cry that ricocheted off the tiles.
“F-uuck..! Robert!”
The name tore out of him, high and broken, his long legs tightening over Robert’s shoulders until the tendons in his thighs stood out. Waterboy’s heels dug into Robert’s back, urging him deeper even as his eyes went wide, already becoming overwhelmed by the feeling. Robert couldn’t have stopped if the building caught fire. He hadn’t fucked anyone in so long, hadn’t let himself want like this, and every nerve was screaming ‘more’, ‘faster’, and ‘harder’. He pulled back only to slam inside again, the bench groaning under the force. Waterboy’s body jolted with each impact, his lanky frame folding further, hips tilting to take every punishing stroke. Robert’s hands slid from Waterboy’s waist to grip the backs of his thighs, spreading him wider, angling him so the head of his cock dragged over that one spot inside that seemed to make Waterboy’s voice crack into a sob.
“God, look at you,” Robert rasped, voice shredded.
Another brutal thrust, another wet slap. Waterboy’s head thrashed, damp hair sticking to his forehead, mouth open on a stream of noises that climbed higher with every pump. “Ah- AH! Fuck! Robert, p-lease, y-you’re.. Too much, it’s- Nngh!” But his hips betrayed him, rolling up to meet the next thrust. So greedy, chasing the overstimulation like it kept him alive. Robert’s rhythm turned almost frantic, hips snapping forward in short, eager bursts as if he was fucking someone for the first time in his life. It got to the point where the bench was beginning to skid an inch across the tile with every collision. He could feel Waterboy clenching around him, his virgin walls fluttering wildly, trying to adjust and failing spectacularly. Every squeeze dragged a growl from Robert’s throat. ‘Fuck HR, fuck HR, fuck HR’ was the only thing running through Robert’s mind by that point. They’d have to drag him off this guy with a crowbar.
Waterboy’s hands scrabbled for anything, really - one clutching Robert’s forearm, the other slamming blindly at the bench until his fingers curled around the edge. His moans were no longer words, just raw, sporadic sounds that only got higher and higher. “Hnng, Robert!.. I’m gonna, fff-.. Fuck, I’m gonna-!” “Not yet,” Robert wasted no time replying, though he wasn’t sure who he was ordering - Waterboy or himself. He shifted his grip, hauling Waterboy’s thighs higher, folding the guy nearly in half. The new angle let him drive deeper, the head of his cock kissing that sweet spot over and over until Waterboy’s entire body locked up, a high, desperate whine ripping out of him.
Robert’s mind was blank by this point, only a few things stringing through it. The locker room blurred until there was only the slick drag of Waterboy’s body, the obscene slaps of balls on skin, the desperate clutch of that tight virgin ass, pressure building viciously. ‘Gonna fill him. Gonna breed this pretty hole.’ The thought looped, filthy and unstoppable, drowning out every shred of common sense left in Robert. Waterboy must have felt the shift - Robert’s thrusts turning erratic, hips stuttering as the edge loomed. “Inside, h-ooly.. Shit, please, Robert, I need.. want it inside..” The plea came out slurred, wrecked, but the meaning punched straight through Robert’s spine. Waterboy’s cock, trapped between their stomachs, twitched hard, the same one that had been leaking precum in hot pulses that mixed with the water streaming off him.
Robert’s control snapped. He slammed in once, twice, three times, punishing strokes that buried him to the root, and then he was cumming, hips flush against Waterboy’s ass, cock pulsing deep ropes inside that delicate hole. The first shot tore a guttural groan from his throat, and the second made his vision blurry as hell. He kept moving. Shallow, grinding thrusts to keep milking every drop, flooding Waterboy’s insides until he could feel the warmth of his own semen wrapping around himself. Waterboy’s cry peaked; sharp, shocked, and overwhelmed as the heat filled him. His body clamped down hard, inner walls fluttering wildly around Robert’s spent cock, chasing the sensation. Robert could feel Waterboy teetering right on the brink, his own cock vulnerable and untouched, every muscle strung tight.
Robert didn’t stop. Couldn’t, even if it felt like he was about to fall over and pass out. He dragged his hips back slowly then snapped forward again, riding the slick mess he’d made. Waterboy sobbed, oversensitive, thighs trembling where they draped over Robert’s shoulders. “Robert, t-too much! I, shit.. I‘m gonna..!”
“Yeah,” Robert panted, voice hoarse. “Come on. Be good for me. Let me feel it. Squeeze me while I’m still inside you.”
Another thrust, another wet slap. Waterboy’s back arched impossibly, spine bowing off the bench, and then - well, then he was cumming. His untouched cock jerking hard between them, stripes of white painting his own stomach and Robert’s, even hitting his own chin. The clench around Robert’s cock was brutal, milking whatever was left from him until Robert’s knees nearly buckled.
They stayed locked like that. Robert buried deep, Waterboy folded beneath him, both of them shaking through the aftershocks. The locker room stunk of sex and steam and shitty soap, the air thick enough to taste. Robert’s arms gave out. He caught himself on locked elbows, forehead dropping to rest against Waterboy’s collarbone. Waterboy’s legs slid slowly from his shoulders, thighs trembling as they settled on either side of Robert’s hips. Neither moved to separate, though. The connection felt too good.
After a long moment, Waterboy let out a shaky laugh, which was out of the ordinary for him. “Holy… shit.” Robert huffed a laugh of his own, pressing a lazy kiss to the hollow of Waterboy’s throat. “Yeah. Holy shit.”