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It's been awhile since Elliot's had a night off. He's not the type to prioritize relaxation over work, but there's been no progress in locating the astral pulse's remains, and he's still waiting on a shipment of parts for the new mech he's been building. The local criminal underworld won't collapse if he takes one evening to sit back and unwind.
He hits up the Sardine late Saturday evening, with plans to have a few beers, watch a fight or two, and catch up on whatever gossip's been circulating on the lower rungs. The usual affair. He doesn't expect any major surprises. After so many years with the neuro-augment, sometimes he wonders if he's even capable of being surprised anymore.
Even he couldn't predict that Mecha Man Blue would show up to a fucking villain bar of all places. It's a statistical anomaly, a completely unforeseen event. Yet there he is, out of his hero costume and all healed up from his forced retirement. Without the mask, Robbie's boy looks much smaller than Elliot remembers. Apparently, surprise is still possible.
He watches from a corner table as Robert Robertson the Third's slender form leans across the bar and orders a drink. Half the size of his father, the kid is dressed in a simple gray button-down and dark, fitted jeans. His posture hints at an arrogant sense of confidence as he accepts a glass from the bartender and turns to examine the crowd. Dark eyes linger over a few nearby observers, challenging them to approach. From what Elliot knows about the kid, it's a trap—there's a sharp bite hidden behind the kid's apathetic drawl, a cheap trick to immediately get under a person's skin and mentally gain the upper hand.
His father used to pull that shit too, the fucking prick. Goading people until they couldn't take it anymore, then using their inevitable frustration as an excuse to retaliate. Countless times, Elliot would dispatch Mecha Man Astral to some simple low priority job, only for it to end with some innocent bystander flung through a wall. An 86% probability of success, all to end in failure and a dozen angry complaints for him to deal with.
Thinking about the past makes Elliot's fingers tighten around the near-empty bottle in his hand. Fucking Robbie. Still pissing him off, even beyond the grave.
He forces himself to breathe out and finishes his beer. The pulsing anger in his veins lessens as the seconds tick by. Eventually, another sweet surprise tickles Elliot's brain as he continues to watch the kid from across the room.
Robbie always liked to pick fights whenever he wanted to feel better about himself. His incessant need to completely dominate his opponent and force them into submission made him an incredible fighter, as well as a gigantic fucking asshole. Robert, however? From Elliot's previous observations, Robert doesn't like inflicting pain as much as his father did. Unlike Astral, Mecha Man Blue tended to prefer incapacitation over direct violence, though he was skilled at both. If Robert came looking to rile someone up with no suit and no powers to help him, that meant he came here to feel something different. He didn't come to dominate—he came to be dominated.
Elliot's lips curl into a smile. So Robbie's boy likes it when it hurts a little. He wants to be punished for his pleasure. How intriguing. He continues to watch as Robert's eyes assess several patrons around the bar. Men, women, humans, humanoids… there's no real pattern aside from an air of danger around them all. Whoever he's looking for, apparently he wants them to make him really feel it later.
It doesn't take long for others in the bar to notice the newcomer among them. Then again, pretty boys like Robert rarely grace a shithole like this with their presence, and few will be willing to pass up the opportunity to take a shot with him. Elliot estimates approximately two minutes before someone finally decides to approach.
At the table beside him, he catches Dragon's red eyes hovering over the kid's ass. Lizard-like pupils dilate, and a faint orange glow flickers between the augments low in his throat. Bolder and smarter than most of the other Red Ring lieutenants, Dragon probably has an idea of what the kid's really after tonight. It doesn't hurt that Robert is exactly the man's type: a sad-looking pretty boy who wants to be pushed to his knees. The attraction is understandable.
Dragon is one of his better underlings. He's loyal. Never late on his drops, never skims off the top, doesn't waste his time on pointless quips or threats… if he wants to fuck some skinny, depressed twink in the bathroom stall, hell, he should be more than welcome to it.
If he were staring at anyone else, he would be. But this isn't just any skinny, depressed twink that's wandered into the Red Ring's turf; this is Robbie's only son. Mecha Man Blue. The one who got away and destroyed Elliot's Astral Pulse in the process. Exceptions must be made.
He raises a hand and Dragon freezes halfway out of his chair. A hot puff of smoke escapes the large man's nostrils as he reluctantly lowers himself back into his seat. Elliot will find a way to make it up to him later—for now, a rare opportunity has presented itself and he needs to see what comes of it.
He crosses the room at his own pace, pleased when others follow Dragon's example and keep their distance. Casually, Elliot leans into the space beside the kid and motions to the bartender for another drink.
"You look like trouble," he murmurs to the kid with a low voice and a cocky smile. Predictably, the odds are in his favor; the third Robert Robertson shows no signs of recognition when he turns to face him. Soft brown eyes immediately narrow as they look Elliot over for both danger and appeal.
He's not sure whether to feel insulted or not that the boy doesn't see through the disguise. For someone so obsessed with hunting Shroud, Robert falls for his civilian face just as easily as any other simple-minded fool. On nights like these, the neural augment on the left side of Elliot's skull is covered in a bandage, and unlike his old mugshot, a pair of glasses now rests in front of his eyes. His hair is more gray than brown these days, extending down into his beard and mustache. Chances of deception aren't 100% certain, but apparently they're high enough to fool Robbie's boy. It's almost disappointing.
Robert's expression is guarded, though Elliot catches a small spark of interest behind it as the kid takes a sip from his glass. "Maybe I am. What's it to you?" he tilts his chin up defiantly, yet somehow manages to sound completely indifferent.
Elliot smiles again as the bartender passes him a cold beer. "This isn't Crypto Night son," he chides as he wraps his fingers around the bottle. "There's no superheroes here to step in if things get out of hand. You look like you're after either a fight or a fuck, and since you haven't started swinging yet, well…" He shrugs. "I hope you know what you're signing up for."
Robert's eyes narrow as he meets Elliot's gaze. "And if I know exactly what I'm signing up for?" The kid asks, tilting his head. "Is that gonna be a problem for you?"
Elliot moves in a little closer, as if trying to hear him better. "Why would that be a problem for me?"
It's Robert's turn to smirk. "You're the one who approached me, old man. I'm guessing you're after the same thing I am, and you thought I'd make an easy target to pick up. But it's a busy night. Lotta people around." He takes another drink, pink tongue catching Elliot's eye as it slides across his lips. "Not sure I want to bend over for some middle-age dweeb going through a life crisis."
Despite expecting the insult, annoyance and embarrassment flare up deep within Elliot's chest. It's a familiar feeling, frustratingly so—it's the same fucking feeling Robbie used to bring out in him whenever he fired off one of his infuriating little quips. But that was then, and this is now. Elliot's skin is much thicker than it used to be, and he immediately sees through the brat's attempt to test him. With a huff of amusement, Elliot drops his hand over the kid's shoulder and squeezes with just the right amount of force to make the kid tense up.
"Oh, I think you do," Elliot murmurs with a little more edge and gravel in his voice. "Otherwise you would've told me to fuck off thirty seconds ago."
"Somebody thinks highly of himself," the kid snorts, raising an eyebrow at the hand on his shoulder. "Maybe I'm just waiting until someone else has the guts to come say hi. There's bigger, hotter people than you here that'd probably give me a good time."
"Sure. But you're not looking for a good time, are you?" Elliot enjoys the brief flash of surprise on Robert's face. He smiles and raises his beer to his lips. "If you were, you wouldn't have come to a place like this." He takes a long drink and sets the half-empty bottle down on the sticky bartop. Then he gives the kid's shoulder a much gentler squeeze before pulling himself away. "Tell you what. You wanna get down on your knees for one of these C-grade goons in the men's room, you go right ahead. I'm sure you'll get exactly the night you expect. But if you want to take a chance on something a little different, something memorable…" he leans down, bringing his face close to Robert's. "Then meet me outside in five minutes."
The spark of interest behind the kid's eyes grows, despite his calm efforts to hide it. "Meeting a strange old man outside a dive like this. Right. Sure. And what happens if I do that?"
Elliot grins as he pulls a few bills out of his wallet and tosses them on the counter for the bartender. "What happens is you get exactly the kind of night you're looking for." He pats the kid's back with mock affection and turns away. A firm tug on his sleeve holds him back. When he glances over his shoulder, Robert's wary eyes are waiting for him.
"Why should I believe you?" the kid asks in a low growl. To others, it might seem intimidating. Elliot however, picks up the signals easily. The quickened heart rate. Sweat rising on the brow. A slight tremble in the boy's hand from where it holds tight to Elliot's jacket, similar to a nervous child's. Robert wants to play, but doesn't quite know how to convince himself to say yes.
"I suppose you have no reason to," Elliot shrugs nonchalantly. "But then again you seem like you don't have much to lose, do you?" He can't help but smirk a little when the kid briefly averts his eyes. "And I imagine it's hard to find someone who can handle your needs."
The kid raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What needs would those be?"
Elliot leans forward the same way he does during interrogation sessions. "The need to be hurt, but not so hurt that you're broken." He meets Robert's eyes and holds his stare. "You need a controlled touch. Someone who will give you exactly the right amount of punishment and tenderness you deserve, when really, you don't think you deserve either. You need someone to put you in your place, but it can't be just anyone.They have to be capable, otherwise you're still the one running the show. And that won't do because you're so fucking exhausted from being the most competent person in the room, but no one else is stepping up to the plate."
Robert's pupils are wide, though he does a good job of maintaining his composure. Elliot can't help but smile at it. Fuck, the kid really is a pretty one. Robbie's little prince, all grown up and his for the taking.
"I can give you what you need," he murmurs as he reaches out and gently cups a soft, freckled cheek. "I know exactly how to make a boy like you feel incredible." Robert doesn't say anything, though by the look in his eyes, one last push should do it. Sighing, Elliot straightens up and shrugs.
"But hey. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe a few compliments and a drunk blowjob really is all you're after, and this was all just a waste of my time. In which case…" He playfully slaps the kid's cheek, enjoying Robert's surprised, sharp intake of breath as he turns away. "Best of luck to you. I'll see you around, kid."
He doesn't bother looking back as he heads toward the exit and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Outside the bar, the bouncer nods to him respectfully. Muffled, thudding music echoes through the front door as Elliot lights up and takes a deep drag. Four and a half minutes pass. The cig is almost finished when the door opens again, and Robert steps out into the chilly air to join him.
"All right old man, you can talk a big game," the kid says as he approaches, shoving his hands in his pockets. Shroud tries not to smile as he holds the cigarette out and taps off the remaining ashes. "You better be able to back it up. I'm used to disappointment, but that doesn't mean I fucking enjoy it."
Shroud can't help but huff out a laugh. "You and me both, kid. You and me both." He takes one last drag and tosses the rest to the sidewalk, grinding the filter into the pavement under his boot. "Follow me."
–
The motel around the corner usually charges by the hour, but for a man like Shroud, the clerk at the window simply hands the key over without any questions. If Robert notices, he doesn't mention it.
"So… you got a name?" he asks as they head down the sidewalk to the last room on the left.
"Do you?" Elliot counters, amused by the kid's huff of annoyance
"I didn't say it had to be your real one," he mutters. "But fine, no names. Whatever."
"We'll revisit this later," Elliot says as he twists the key in the lock. "When we've done something about that mouth of yours."
"More big talk from a guy who looks like he's going through a second divorce," Robert sneers as they both step inside. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if you really-"
Elliot spins and grabs the insolent brat by the throat as soon as the door shuts, cutting off his sentence and majority of his air flow. "You talk too much," he sighs fondly as he pushes him up against the door and shoves himself in between Robert's legs.
To his credit, the kid is a decent scrapper. Before Elliot can get his mouth on him, Robert slams his knee up into his gut, hard enough to make Elliot grunt. The kid tries to slip free while he recovers, but Elliot is quick to backhand him across the face. An elbow flies up into Elliot's ribs, and though he sees it coming, it's no fun if he doesn't at least pretend to give the kid a chance. He moves with the hit and lets the kid attempt to slip free again, only to grab the back of his arm and send him flying back onto the bed.
"You can put up a better fight than that, can't you?" Elliot taunts, assessing the probability of which fist Robert will throw next. His assumption is correct; he catches the boy's left hand easily, twisting it behind him and slamming the brat down onto the mattress. "Disappointing," Elliot tuts against his ear as he pins him down with a knee. He grabs the little prince by the jaw, forcing him to look back over his shoulder at him. "I expected a lot more resistance from someone playing so hard to get."
Anger bubbles beneath pretty brown eyes, and the kid starts struggling with renewed intensity. Despite being out of the game for months, Robert still has a surprising amount of strength left in his small frame. He bucks Elliot off with a snarl, nearly managing to scramble away until Elliot grabs him by the hair and pulls, forcing the kid to face him once again. Elliot slaps him hard across the face once again, hard enough to bruise and make the boy gasp. It's such a pretty sound that Elliot can't help but dive in with his tongue to swallow it up.
If only Robbie was here to see this. The thought makes Elliot smirk against Robert's lips as he drags his teeth over them , biting down just enough to make the boy shiver. His tongue laps up the thin trail of blood over a split in the kid's lip, swallowing up a soft little whimper as he kisses him again.
"Last chance to fight me off," he murmurs against Robert's mouth. "Once I get your clothes off, there's no backing out. Understand?"
The kid's breath quickens into an angry huff. "Guess you better get 'em off fast then."
He narrowly avoids the headbutt Robert throws in his face. Again, the kid takes advantage of the brief opening between them to try wriggling out from under Elliot's weight. He's quick in his movements, and it's easy to see how the boy could hold his own in a fight even without powers. Still, he's months out of practice and it's easy to predict which moves he'll resort to next. Catching Robert's wrist, Elliot effortlessly yanks him backward while reaching out with his other hand to tear at the kid's shirt.
Buttons go flying as Robert tries to push him away. Not hard enough to actually escape, that would defeat the whole purpose of what they're both here for, but enough that Elliot is forced to leave several more bruises in retaliation. They tussle over the motel's large bed until finally, Elliot pins the kid down onto his belly once again. From there, it's easy to grab Robert's ruined shirt and use it to tie his wrists behind his back. As he swears and writhes beneath him, Elliot makes quick work of removing the boy's belt, yanking his jeans down to the floor and leaving only his boxers-briefs remaining.
Once again, Elliot's hand is wrapped firmly around Robert's neck, just tight enough to be uncomfortable and keep him in place. The heat and frustration burning in the kid's eyes might've sent lesser men running, but Elliot is no fucking coward. He sees what Robert wants. He can feel it between the brat's legs where it strains against Elliot's thigh; can feel the dampness seeping through the front of his underwear. Robbie's little boyslut wants to be put in his place. He's enjoying this.
God, Elliot wishes Robbie was still alive for this moment. What would the proud, mighty Astral think if he saw how pathetically fucked up his son had become? His great legacy reduced to this sad, skinny boy who lets his enemies fuck him into submission. The thought of it makes Elliot's cock twitch.
"I think you've lost this round, kid." He smiles as he gently caresses a freckled cheek. "Now be a good boy for me and do as I say."
"Fuck you," Robert hisses through his teeth before trying to bite Elliot's hand. Avoiding the attack easily, Elliot retaliates with another swift slap, tightly squeezing the kid's jaw shut with one hand as he forces his pretty face to stay still.
"You misunderstand me, kid. That wasn't a request."
Elliot shoves Robert's face down hard against the mattress again, enjoying the way it muffles his cute, angry snarl. For a moment, he contemplates shoving his cock into his mouth to really shut him up, but unfortunately the odds regarding the kid's teeth aren't in his favor. Elliot still needs to break him in a little more if he wants to hold up his promise to give the kid a night to remember.
He surprises the boy with a much gentler touch, kissing and nipping along Robert's neck as his beard drags across flushed, freckled skin. His tongue traces over the scarred edges of the boy's right ear, dipping in and out of the missing hole and leaving a wet trail of saliva in its wake. Beneath him, Robert's breath audibly hitches. Elliot repeats the motion, recalling how pissed Astral had been the day after it happened, how furious he'd sounded over their comm lines.
"The boy was fucking around where he shouldn't have, nearly blew his goddamn head off," Robbie had complained over the comm lines. Christ, sending him out on missions that day had been a nightmare. A complete and utter shitshow, one of the worst shifts of both their careers. By the end of the day there were so many complaints and excess damages that upper management had screamed at Elliot for nearly two hours straight. All because of this little brat.
Another hot wave of anger and annoyance rises up, and before Elliot can consider all the potential outcomes of his actions, he cracks his palm down hard over the kid's ass—hard enough to make it hurt, even through the thin fabric of his briefs. Robert's entire body jerks at the impact, eyes snapping wide in shock as choked gasp slips out.
Elliot does it again. Then again. Over and over, listening to each muffled whimper with delight. As predicted, Robbie's boy is hardwired for punishment. He won't be able to sit comfortably for days. The moans he lets out get louder and more desperate with each strike, beads of sweat gathering around his temples. The kid is getting there, falling further down into that deep, floaty space that brats like him seem to enjoy so much. Elliot can see it in those soft brown eyes, the way they roll back and flutter so sweetly without meaning to.
"That's it kid," he whispers into his ear while grazing his teeth over the shell of it. "Be a good boy for Daddy."
Robert's next breath stutters and a visible shiver runs through his body. Elliot expects him to fall even further under, but is pleasantly surprised once more when despite the interest of his body, the kid's expression hardens. He rapidly blinks some of the haze out of his eyes as he turns to glare at Elliot from beneath his grasp
"I'm not…" Robert says with a strained, gravelly voice. He pauses to swallow before speaking again. "I'm not into that." It's difficult to hold back a smirk as the boy exhales, trying to regain control of himself. "Save it for the next guy."
A good person would accept that. A good person might even apologize and try to make it up to the kid. But Elliot is not a good person. Others might respect the kid's boundary lines, but Elliot only sees them as a challenge. Perhaps it's the call of curiosity. Or perhaps it's simply a perfect opportunity to ruin something truly precious of Robbie's.
"You sure? Could've fooled me," he sneers as he lets his hand slither down in between the kid's thighs, gently cupping at the erect cock straining beneath the fabric. Robert tries to stifle a moan as Elliot massages his hand over the warm bulge, tracing over the kid's balls before finally tugging his underwear down around his knees. Robert's exposed ass is bright red and absolutely covered in dark purple marks the shape of Elliot's hand. It's a lovely sight—small and pretty, just like the rest of the boy. Elliot kneads his palm against a bruised, burning cheek and smiles fondly at the little whimper he gets in response.
There's a bottle of lube in the drawer beside the bed. Perks of an hourly place. For a moment, he contemplates taking the kid dry to really give him something to cry over, but quickly decides against it. It's better if he enjoys it. Better still if Elliot makes him enjoy it.
It only takes a few seconds to find it and pop the cap open. Once coated in lube, Elliot wastes no time sliding a finger into the little pink hole between Robert's legs, slowly stretching him out until the kid is grunting and writhing back into his touch. He jolts and shivers again when Elliot adds another and brushes against the spot inside of him, back arching as his arms strain against his bonds. "F-fuck," he gasps softly between heavy breaths.
"That feel good?" Elliot asks, curling his fingers and wetting his lips when the boy lets out another soft, weak sound. "You want more?"
Robert nods, though his jaw is tightly clenched shut. Trying to keep those pathetic little noises under control, no doubt. That won't do. Elliot picks up the pace as his other hand slides around Robert's hip and back down in between his legs. Smug satisfaction fills him as his hand wraps around the kid's entire length with room to spare. Turns out the kid is small everywhere. How fucking adorable. Yet another trait Robbie would probably be disappointed to hear about.
He squeezes his fist just enough to get the right amount of pressure before pumping his grip, building up his movements into a steady rhythm. Robert moans again, unable to hold back the sounds anymore as he rocks himself back and forth on the fingers in his ass and around his cock. He looks close. Just a little longer and he'll have his release.
Elliot smiles and pulls both hands away just in time to kill the momentum, leaving the poor kid choking on his own spit in surprise.
"H-Hey!" Robert twists his head around to glare at him with wide eyes. He looks pissed.
"Don't be so impatient," Elliot chides as he reaches back into the drawer, grasping for one of the toys stashed inside for special visitors. "We'll get there." Elliot quickly covers the little blue vibrator with lube before sliding his fingers inside again to open him up.
The kid isn't expecting the toy. His eyes fly open when Elliot starts to push it inside, and he attempts to turn away, but the firm grip on his neck continues to hold him in place. Despite the struggle, Robert's expression betrays his pleasure as Elliot slides the length of it in and out of the boy to a steady rhythm, slowly bringing him back toward the edge of bliss.
"I warned you about fucking around in places you shouldn't be," Elliot sighs, feigning disappointment. "Daddy told you to be a good boy, but it seems you're not listening." Robert chokes out a deep, frustrated noise as Elliot shoves the toy inside all the way to the base. He watches the boy shudder and groan, cheek pressed flat against the mattress as he tries to keep himself centered despite all the intense sensations. Then the kid has the nerve to turn and glare at him again.
"I fucking told you, I—oh!" Robert bites his lip mid-moan, squeezing his eyes shut as Elliot's thumb presses a button. The sound of the vibrator thrumming inside of him is loud and filthy, especially when paired with the sweet, desperate little noises that begin to flow from the kid's smart mouth.
"Still not listening," Shroud sneers. "How disappointing."
"F-fuck," Robert whimpers as his toes curl, fingers digging into the sheets hard enough to tear holes. Another press of the button and his spine arches from the sudden change in speed, though he's still unable to escape Elliot's weight pinning him down. He torments the kid for a few more moments—just long enough to bring him to the verge once more. Again, he denies the boy his sweet release at the last possible second, turning off the vibrations and pulling the toy out just in time to keep him from tipping over the edge.
"FUCK!" Robert shouts, jerking his hips wildly underneath Elliot's grip. "You f-fucking asshole," he snarls through his teeth, though it sounds closer to a whine.
The torture continues again and again. Each time Robert's climax is snatched away, the kid becomes more and more desperate to fulfill his body's base need for pleasure. By the fourth time release is denied, Elliot's own clothes are off, and the kid finally looks ready to beg. His nipples are pink, and puffy from Elliot's fingers and teeth pinching and tugging at them. His eyes are clouded in a haze of desperation. Soft auburn hair sticks up around his face in a complete mess. His little prick is red and dripping. It's one hell of a sight to behold.
At last, Elliot slowly pushes his cock inside, and the whiny moan Robert lets out nearly has him coming on the spot. Poor thing, he thinks to himself as he quickly regains control and starts to move. He watches the kid's expression as he steadily thrusts into him, sinking deeper and deeper with each push. Robert's lovely face is flushed pink, and his half-lidded eyes are glassy from lingering on the precipice of release for so long. A thin line of drool dangles over his lower lip as he gasps in time to each thrust inside his body.
He really is fucking gorgeous. Much prettier than his father, that's for sure.
Elliot keeps up the pace, grateful for all the stamina training he's kept up with since prison. The boy is no slacker, but he's been out of the game for months. Mecha Man or not, compared to Elliot, Robert won't be winning this contest of endurance. As expected, pretty brown eyes flutter shut as the kid pants and tries to meet each thrust as hard as he can, still kept in place by the neck like an unruly puppy. Elliot revels in the sight of it, charmed by the way Robert bites at his swollen lip, trying not to give himself away. Silly boy.
One more should do it.
Despite his best efforts to hide them, Robert's moans get louder and higher in pitch with each passing second. His body trembles beneath Elliot's hands. It's probably all he can fucking think about—how much he needs it, how he's so close he can practically taste it. Just a little more, that's all it'll take.
Elliot steels himself and pulls out in one swift movement, simultaneously removing his hand from the kid's cock once more. He watches with glee as Robert violently thrashes around on the bed, sobbing through tears as his hips buck wildly with nothing to touch.
"Nononoplease!" He sobs, eyes wet as he tries to look at Elliot again. "Please, fuck, please!"
He tries to twist around and pull Elliot back in with his legs, but the angle isn't in his favor. Robert is so much weaker than he used to be, and it's easy to hover just beyond his reach. With a low, smug growl, Elliot leans in and presses a sweet, gentle kiss to the boy's temple.
"Ask me properly."
"Please," Robert hisses. "Please let me cum."
Elliot shakes his head and smiles. "Try again."
Robert turns his head and screams into the mattress in frustration. His hips sway back and forth again, desperate to have something inside to finally give him what he needs.
"Please sir," he tries, though they both know that's not the answer either. Elliot can't stop grinning as he waits. It only takes one more moment. Finally, Robert lets out a loud, angry sob, clenching his fists against his restraints as he buries his face further into the mattress. Tear tracks shine across his red, freckled cheeks as he finally gives in.
"Please… Daddy please…" he whispers with a soft, shaky voice.
Elliot immediately sinks his cock back into Robert's puffy little hole with one easy push. His hands grip tightly against the kid's hips, holding him firmly in place as he slams into him relentlessly. More tears flow down Robert's face as he arches his back, desperately trying to take it all as best he can.
"That's my good boy," Elliot murmurs fondly as he slams his cock directly against the boy's prostate, over and over until the kid can only babble and sob.
This time, he doesn't pull away when Robert's voice becomes strained and weak. Instead he increases the pace, fucking him harder and harder as he gives his all to ruin the boy for anyone else. At last, a loud, broken wail escapes Robert's throat as his jaw drops open, and his eyes roll back in his head. His cute little cock twitches and spurts out a long streak of white that pools against the sheets; for a moment, Elliot contemplates shoving the kid's face in it and ordering him to lick up his mess.
Yet despite his superior intellect and stamina, Elliot is only human. He has his limits too, and the thought of Robbie's pretty little prince obediently licking up his own cum is enough to push him over the edge as well. His fingers dig into the boy's hips hard enough to bruise, adding to the collection of marks on his slim, scarred body. He bites down into the meat of Robert's shoulder as he snarls through his own climax, coming so deep inside that it's going to be dripping out of the kid for hours.
With both of them finally spent, Elliot falls forward and rests his forehead against the back of Robert's shoulder as he catches his breath. Jesus, what a ride. His cock twitches inside the kid from the aftershock, drawing out another small, pathetic moan.
Elliot sits up, pleased to find that Robert looks completely wrecked. Shiny, half-lidded eyes are clouded in a daze as if unaware of what's happening around him. His swollen mouth hangs open in a cute little "o" shape, and his body looks like it's lost all capability of movement for the time being.
With a low grunt, Elliot reluctantly pulls out, reveling in the soft, weak noise Robert makes at the loss. As expected, a thin trickle of white immediately starts to drip out his hole, down over his taint and thighs. Who would ever guess such a well-respected hero could look so utterly debauched?
Elliot's mouth feels dry as his eyes roam over Robert's naked, marked up body. The kid has left himself completely exposed and vulnerable in front of his sworn enemy and he doesn't even realize it. It seems they just don't make Mecha Men how they used to. Astral had only ever let his guard down once, and immediately died for it. Why should his son be an exception?
Elliot's fingers trail across the boy's neck. It would be so easy to end it all right here and now. The kid is too out of it to fight him off. One little snap and Mecha Man could truly die once and for all.
He'd contemplated doing the same back when Robert was still in his coma, even going so far as to visit the kid's hospital room when he was unconscious. Ultimately, he'd decided to spare the boy. Without the mech suit, only a sad and lonely man remained—nothing worth the hassle of a potential follow-up investigation. Now that Blonde Blazer has taken an interest in the kid's well-being, it'll be even harder to deal with cleanup if he kills him now. Better to let the kid go again, none the wiser as to who exactly he spent the night with.
Bright neon lights shine in through a small window nearby, casting the boy's pretty face in glowing blue and pink hues. Weak like this, teetering between consciousness and unconsciousness, it's impossible to ignore how beautiful he really is. Just like he had back in the hospital, Elliot catches himself admiring the sight and slowly draws his hand back.
"Guess it's another lucky day for you, kid," he mumbles quietly to himself as he steps off the bed. His legs shake from exertion as he makes his way into the bathroom to give himself a quick wipe down. Once he's cleaned himself up, he grabs another towel on his way out and drapes it over the kid's naked backside as a courtesy.
Robert still hasn't moved from the bed, though his breathing seems to have evened out. Sure enough, when Elliot kneels down to get a closer look, he realizes the boy is unconscious. How foolish—a hero like Mecha Man should know better than to fall asleep in front of strange men in motels. Robbie would be furious if he knew.
But Robbie will never know. Robbie is dead, and all that's left of him is this beautiful boy passed out in Elliot's bed. A boy with a death wish, who doesn't take care of himself properly and who deliberately places himself in harm's way. Unfortunately for him, Elliot refuses to be the one to grant his wish. Not yet. Not until he proves to be more trouble than he's worth.
Gently, he trails his fingers over a soft, freckled cheek, careful not to press too hard against the bruises blooming along Robert's jaw. Impulse makes Elliot lean forward and press another kiss to the boy's lips, enjoying the sweet taste of him one last time.
A tiny whimper escapes him when Elliot pulls away. He brushes a few stray hairs out of the kid's face, admiring the sight of him before he finally turns away to get dressed. He slips out the door without waking the boy, quietly shutting it behind him before making his way back to the front desk.
"The guy in my usual room," he says as he hands over a stack of cash to the clerk, "no need to rush him out, understand?"
The man behind the desk nods silently as he accepts the money. For a fleeting moment, the small, sentimental part of Elliot considers going back to leave the kid a bottle of water and some painkillers. God knows he'll need them when he wakes up. There's still time.
His phone buzzes inside his pocket, distracting him from his thoughts. When he glances at the screen, a message from Toxic informs him that Invisibitch is available for a meeting in an hour. Apparently she had a disagreement with her dispatcher at SDN yesterday and is now willing to hear Shroud's offer regarding an inside job. With a sigh, Elliot puts the phone away and glances back in the direction of his motel room.
He'll meet the boy again soon. He's not done with Robert Robertson the third. Not by a long shot. Though maybe next time, he'll buy him a drink first.