Work Text:
‘Boy let me know if this is Careless, I
Could be torn between two roads,
And I just can’t decide,
Which one is leading me to Hell or Paradise,’
Robert knew this was a bad idea.
He had come here with the team; even if everyone was off doing their own thing right now, there was sure to be a lull in conversation, where someone was bound to realize he was no longer at the bar, knocking back drinks. His disappearance would then, like a shitty game of drunk telephone, bounce from one team member to the next; each theory getting more ridiculous– more contrived.
Because this was Z team– incapable of shutting the fuck up, for even one second. Word was going to get around.
Just like it had earlier; the whole reason he was even entertaining such stupid, petty, jealousy.
–Because that’s what this bitter feeling inside him was; not the bite of his whiskey going down empty, but the acid reflux of his own bitter emotions threatening to come back up, and stain the table a nauseating green.
“Yo, guess who saw Waterbitch at the club the other night, grinding up on some random civvie!?” It was the last hour of work, and suddenly, Flambae decided now was the time to divulge this information. Was it because Robert had sent him to deal with that fight that broke out at some bar?
“What–Seriously? Holy shit, Waterboy! Didn’t think you had it in you,” Invisigal had almost sounded impressed.
“I didn’t know you could move like that, white and nerdy,” Prism added; making it clear she had been there too. Which made sense, as Flambae and Prism were always hanging out after work. Scouring new hit up spots for both food and entertainment.
Waterboy on the other hand, seemed mortified by his off duty activities being brought to light, “What the— you were watching me, Flambae? Wait? Prism, you were there too?”
Flambae answered, “Oh we were there– and it’s a bit hard to ignore when you see your sopping wet, 6’7 coworker getting down on the dancefloor with some little twink, leaving a huge slipping hazard for anyone who gets close. Boy you were like a sprinkler system; needed a caution sign around your neck that said: splash zone– you will get wet!”
Waterboy sputtered for a moment, thinking of which statement to even respond to. In the end, he muttered, weakly, “...I’m 6’4…”
Flambae laughed, “Bitch– you ain’t 6’4; I’m 6’4! I know you were slouching when they measured you.”
“I’m surprised you would openly admit Waterboy is taller than you,” Malevola chuckled.
“Ehh, fuck it– I got nothing to be ashamed of; 6’4 is still pretty fucking tall. And at least I got the muscles and the ass to back it all up– unlike stringbean. I don’t need to be the tallest to be the entire package!” Count on Flambae to always be humble, at least.
“Ehh, fuck your measurements– I wanna know who you were you dancing with, lad?” Punchup asked, sounding intrigued; like he was on the edge of his seat to get the latest gossip.
“I didn’t– uhm.. No one. I wasn’t—” Herman hesitated, before finally sighing, “We weren’t really there to exchange names.”
A huge ooh crackled over comms, Robert wincing at multiple mics peaking at once.
“Holy shit, you kinky little shit,” Sonar hooted. “I knew you were secretly a freak– it’s always the quiet, nerdy ones!”
“...Can confirm,” Coupe said, but did not elaborate further.
“N-No! I didn’t mean–! Nothing happened between– came of it. We didn’t do anything except dance! It was just some dancing!”
“Some dirty dancing,” Prism reminded.
Waterboy sputtered, but didn’t attempt to deny her statement. This caused more laughter from the team, and teasing that lasted the last hour of shift. An hour of Robert having to sit there and listen to them talk about Herman getting hot and sweaty with some fucking guy, while attempting to remain detached the whole time. Having to keep his jaw from clenching so that it wouldn’t lock up in place, forcing his brow to stay smooth, and his fingers to stay uncurled over his lap. Having to resist joining in the other’s probing questions about what happened, because it would be highly inappropriate if he– their boss– started getting invested in their conversation. It felt like crossing a line; like an abuse of power.
So he sat back, and didn’t say much of anything; hoping that when the clock ran out, that would be the last time he’d ever have to endure it.
The instigators had thought it would be so funny to bring everyone to that same club after work today. Like they were hoping for a round two.
Well fuck– if they wanted a round two, he’d give them a round two. He’d give Waterboy a show.
He knew, deep down, that Waterboy hadn’t done anything wrong; that he was just the misguided direction of Robert’s ire.
Why did he even care what Waterboy did after work– it was his subordinates' decision how he spent his night. What did he even care who Waterboy had danced with? What did it even matter if Waterboy had wanted to go home with the guy—
He slammed his empty glass on the table; pushing himself up from his stool, he scanned the crowd for something– someone. It had been awhile since this wolfish side of him reared its ugly head. Been a long time since he hungered in the moonlight, since he went hunting. He knew he wanted something specific.
He spotted them immediately, over 6 foot tall and lean, wearing cute, little nerdy glasses that caught the flashing strobe lights when he turned his head just so. He had freckles covering his face and a flash of fox-red hair. Not quite the specs of the man currently occupying his every, fiery thought, but he would do.
Robert left the company of the other Z-teamers, crossing the crowded dancefloor like a lion in the savana, dark eyes never straying from his target. Somewhere in the darkness, he knew there was a pair of soft, grey eyes already tracking his every movement.
Let him watch, he thought, I’ll teach him how to put on a proper show.
“Oh? Yo! Where’s Bobbie going?”
“Man’s on a mission!”
“He looks more locked in then at work– the fuck?”
Herman took a shaky sip of his Mai Thai.
“Hey.”
The nerdy kid in glasses half-jumped at the first brush of Robert’s hand over his bicep, “You come here often?”
He watched the man’s Adam’s Apple bob with his swallow, seemingly surprised to have been approached. He glanced at the two people standing next to him, a young man and woman dressed in matching club attire, and then back to Robert again, “Are you talking to me?”
Robert’s smile was sharp, predatory, “I sure am, Red,” he answered with a flash of fang. The redhead swallowed again; brown eyes widening; he looked a little helpless. It was so familiar, so endearing, that Robert’s expression instinctively softened into something more friendly. “Couldn’t help but spot you from way over at the bar. With those long legs of yours.”
The man he had dubbed ‘Red’ flushed at the barely concealed compliment, “Oh, uh, thanks very much.”
Robert made a show of slowly looking the stranger up and down, lingering on the points that he knew would get the most reactions from his onlookers, “You wanna dance, pretty boy?”
When Red looked over his shoulder at his two companions, they were nodding at him enthusiastically, practically shoving him away from them and into Robert’s orbit, “Uh, yeah, I’d, uh– oh god, fuck yeah.”
The man’s uncertainty only made the fire in Robert’s guts burn brighter. A lamb to the slaughter, something to sink his teeth into.
Something to want to hold. To protect. To ruin. To adore.
Robert was a piece of shit.
He took the man’s freckled hand, and led him to the dance floor; he could feel the man’s heat radiating off his back– his tall figure towering over Robert. It made him feel…
A flash of regret crossed his expression. This was really stupid.
“Yo, who’s that?”
“It kind of looks like you, Wetfartboy!”
“...Does it…I don’t– I don’t know if I see the resemblance,” Water filled his throat; he quickly swallowed it back down.
“Bitch, do you need glasses?”
“You can borrow your clones– I bet he has a spare."
“...Funny…” So why wasn’t he laughing?
As the music kicked in, and the lights began to flash iridescent, Robert let his guilt melt away; he was just here to have fun, like the rest of his team. What was so wrong about that? He was off the clock; the only person waiting for him to come home was his fat little chihuahua– it didn’t matter if he wanted to act like this. If he wanted to throw himself at the nearest horny participant, and lose himself tonight; he had done so much worse in the past. Honestly– in comparison; this guy was probably an angelface. Which was exactly what he was craving, for once– even if it came from substitution.
It was his right to have fun– just like it had been Waterboy’s the other night.
He danced in the closed circle of the taller man’s arms, making sure to sway and twist in all the right ways to draw his eyes in. It wasn’t his first time in a bar like this one. He was rusty but still knew all the steps. Knew how to cast a spell that would pull someone under.
He turned himself around so his back was to the other man, reaching up to coil an arm around his long, slender neck. The taller man folded against him, his hands sliding along Robert’s sides tentatively.
“It’s okay,” Robert purred as the next song started and he began to move with the rhythm, “I promise I don’t bite. Much.” Brown eyes flickered once towards the bar and the watchful pairs of eyes there, and then back again, ”Grab me harder.”
Red’s fingers tightened, pulling him back against his hips as he followed the beat of the anodic music. The man was already starting to breathe heavy in his ear, his teeth tracing the helix and nipping at it teasingly, “You’re really hot,” he gasped, “Fuck, I like the way you move.”
Robert pushed back, grinding against the stranger’s growing erection through his jeans, “Yeah? I can tell.”
“You got a name?” his dance partner asked.
“I don’t really do names,” Robert answered, “Gonna just call you Red, that okay with you?”
“More than okay,” Red moaned, “You keep moving like that and you can call me anything you want, honey.”
More Z team members were gathering around the booth.
“Holy shit, is that our dispatcher out there on the dance floor?” Malevola held her glass up in salute towards the dance floor, before knocking it back.
“Right?! I didn’t know that old man could move like that! I figured he’d break a bone if he swung his hips too hard.”
“Damn, Bobbie, kind of jealous that isn’t me right now,” Sonar admitted, loosening his tie.
“Ugh, don’t I know it. Still can’t believe he rejected me,” Courtney laughed, crossing her arms, “And here he is, acting like the town harlot; doesn’t it almost look like he’s doing this on purpose?”
“What do you mean?” Sonar asked, quirking a brow.
“Doesn’t it look like he’s showing off in front of us; he knows we’re watching– he can see us as much as we can see him. He knows we’re going to hound him about this later. But it’s like he doesn’t care? Like he wants us to see him– to see him doing this– for some reason?”
“Huh? Now that you mention it–”
“Maybe we need to invite him out clubbing more, huh Chad?” Prism said, stealing Flambae’s glass right out of his hands, and taking a sip.
He didn’t seem to care that much, not when he was still gagged by what he was witnessing. “And let this bitch steal my spotlight– no thanks!”
“...Lad… you alright?” Punch Up reached up, a hand on Waterboy’s arm; his voice just loud enough to not be overheard by the rest.
The red head didn’t seem to be blinking. “Peachy. I’m– just peachy.”
Colm locked eyes with Janelle.
Robert glanced back at his dance partner, eyes travelling up to meet the man’s face in the dark fleetingly. Brown eyes, he noted, so different from the grey ones he knew would be pinning him like a butterfly on a collector’s board.
Red’s hands slid forward, dipping into the front pockets of Robert’s jeans, controlling the rolling motions of his hips with another, breathless moan. The song was achingly loud in both men’s ears, and Robert allowed himself to get lost in the pounding throb of it, imagining what it would be like to have someone else grinding against him in Red’s place.
Someone stronger. Someone wetter.
God, just the thought was enough to make him leak into his boxers.
He threw his head back, closing his eyes and offering a performative moan, his breath ghosting across the bottom of the other man’s jaw, “Fuck, baby, you feel so big through those jeans.”
“I do?” Red panted, his length twitching against the bottom of Robert’s muscular back where it pressed.
“Yeah.” Robert gave him another appreciative roll of his hips, groaning loudly, “You wanna touch me more?”
“Yes,” Red hissed in his ear, already sounding like he was coming undone at the seams. Whenever he pulled his hands out of Robert’s pockets, Robert was quick to snatch one up and press it hard against his own crotch, his hips jerking forward as his erection filled the man’s large hand.
“Ohhh!” the stranger started, letting out a deep moan as Robert’s other hand stayed there, pressing the palm against himself, “Oh shit!”
“Oh Shit!”
“Damn!”
“Man’s moving like he’s trying to get pregnant!”
The team’s laughter was cut short by the sound of glass shattering.
“You like that?” Robert’s voice pitched low, his solid body rocking between the man’s hand and his throbbing cock. He bent his knees further, arching deeper into that hot and heavy touch, “You like feeling what you do to me, Red?”
The freckled man’s taller form bowed helplessly to the pressure of Robert’s warm body, desperately seeking more friction, “Fuck,” he whimpered, pressing in firmer so there was no space between their bodies at all now, “Wanna fill your tight ass so bad, baby.”
Robert dipped low again, slowing to match the pace of the song. His chestnut eyes briefly searched the bar, lingering on each figure he could make out there until he found the one that he was really looking for.
The one who currently had the ruins of a broken glass spread out on the counter in front of him. His eyes were completely fogged out by his googles; making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But the thin line of his mouth was unlike any expression Robert had seen on his usually peppy coworker before.
He let a teasing smile spread across his lips just for him. The wink might have been a bit cruel, but all was fair in love and war, right?
“Damn, Wetwipe, what the hell is up with you?” Flambae leaned away from the backsplash of Herman’s near empty drink, and the glass shards themselves.
“Come on Flambae, you know we don’t need to spell it out for you. It’s okay Herm, baby–” Prism started to say, but was caught off guard by the next thing that happened on the dance floor.
“Woah! Did he just—”
“Wink!?”
“Robert knows we’re watching! I was fucking right– he’s doing this on purpose!”
“What the hell is his game plan here?”
“We see you SLUTBERT!”
“You gonna let him take you right there on the dance floor, bitch?!”
“You got condoms to match that dirty mouth of yours, Red?” Robert asked the man he was dancing with, arching his back to bring himself close to his ear, even when his eyes were on somebody else.
Red’s teeth attempted to nip his ear again, but missed in the man’s excitement, “I-in my wallet,” he offered.
Robert nodded his head to a spot across the dancefloor, “Wanna take me in the bathroom?” he purred, tone like silk and promise, “Blow your load in this tight, little hole of mine?”
Red’s hips jerked, “Yes,” he answered desperately, “Fuck, yes, yes yes.”
Robert turned, finally facing the man head on; one hand sliding up the nape of his neck, he pulled Red down onto his mouth, greedily pulling the man’s bottom lip between his teeth. Red melted instantly into the kiss; hands grabbing his thin waist, and pulling Robert right up against him. God his hands were big, if they were just a little bigger—
Robert let go of the man’s lip with a pop and a hiss; “Come on pretty boy– there’s a stall with our name on it.”
Red looked starstruck, “Holy shit– this is actually happening.” It was incredibly cute; how eager he looked. Was he a virgin? That thought sent both a thrill up Robert’s spine, as well as a pit to drop in his stomach.
He had also assumed Waterboy had been a virgin too… though considering the phrasing of earlier’s conversation; it seemed he’d been mistaken.
The jealousy was crimping around the edges of his vision again.
“Hey– kid?”
Red jumped at the nickname; eyes wide. He actually shivered, “Oh fuck– yes, sir?”
Fuck! He really had picked right.
Lust and guilt made for a very bad cocktail. Robert threw it back anyway; “Have you done this before?”
Red shrugged, “Dirty Dancing… once or twice. This next part–?” He shook his head; his fingers tightened almost possessively on Robert’s hips, as he licked his lips, “Not at all– but I know I want this. I want you.”
It was words that set Robert’s loins ablaze; but he was still hesitating. “...You sure– we can just keep dancing– this is fun, right? We don’t need to do anything else that you’re not ready–”
Red suddenly lifted Robert up into his arm’s; the shock of such an action causing Robert to desperately cling to the nearest stable surface– which was his dance partner. “Please– you got me so keyed up! Don’t leave me like this after turning me on so badly. I promise; I’ll be a good boy for you. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
Robert gasped; he felt suddenly dizzy. The colors were swirling, and Red’s face was starting to morph and blend; imagination and reality crossing wires.
The sweat dripping off the both of them felt like his.
That high pitched, breathy voice pleading with Robert sounded like his, underneath the heady bassline.
Those eyes filling with desperate tears were just like his! So, so eager to please.
Robert was the worst. Greedy. Selfish. Petty. Lonely. Vindictive.
Just an all around, piece of shit.
“Well, when you beg me like that– how am I supposed to refuse?”
Red’s smile was crooked; it was getting harder to spot the difference, “I guess that means…you can’t?”
“Guess I can’t,” Robert agreed, softly. Softer than he’d been expecting– soft, like the way he talked to a certain someone.
Red finally set him back down; Robert took him by the wrist, and started dragging him towards the bathrooms, before he could second guess anymore. As they passed the two people Red had shown up with, Red shot his friends a single thumbs up, as his other hand was occupied; he was beaming from ear to ear. His friends were jumping up and down in their seats, shaking each other in response.
Across the way, another group was jumping up and down in their booth; losing their collective minds.
…Only one, lone, tall figure remained perfectly still. Scarily so.
“Oh fuck! I think he’s gonna do it! He’s dragging that guy to the restroom like he’s about to—”
“He’s serious? He’s really gonna do that?! Even knowing we’re here? Ballsy, Robertson,” Courtney was the one to salute her cup towards the retreating pair this time.
“I didn’t know Robert was like that.”
“Did any of us have a bet going on whether Robert was the secret freak in the group?”
“I think it was about who pulled the most– who voted for Robbob again? Cause I gotta admit, after watching that– I think you might have been on to something.”
“Fucccck, lucky dog; I wanna get laid too.”
“Come on Nar– won’t be hard. I’ll help you; there’s sure to be some monsterfuckers here.”
“You’re the best Mal.”
Robert pinned the taller man against the wall, kissing him like his life depended on it the moment he locked the door to their bathroom stall. Hands were under his shirt in seconds, fingers sliding, gliding, twitching– touching.
“Oh gosh, your stomach– feels—”
“Gnarly?” Robert supplied.
Red nodded; he lifted Robert’s uniform up past his abdomen, taking a peek. He gasped, “You’re covered in scars.”
“...Change your mind?” Robert asked, trying not to sound disappointed. It wasn’t the first time his fucked up body had scared a potential partner off; at least… one of the nicer ones.
But the stranger shook his head, “Nah– it doesn’t bother me. Just…curious? Makes me wanna hear the story behind them– you know?”
Robert laughed, grinding his hips against his partner’s. “Maybe if you’re a good boy, and make me happy tonight, I can share some of my old ‘war’ stories with ya.”
“Wow! Would you really?!” The kid sounded excited. It was so painfully familiar. It made Robert ache all over.
The smile he offered the younger man was genuine, “Yeah, kid. I’d like that.”
He let out a grunt of surprise as he was suddenly turned around and shoved against the wall himself, the plastic rattling on impact before it settled. Red pressed in close to him, slotting a long leg between his as he licked excitedly into his mouth. Robert’s dick throbbed at the taste of him, sweet as a cocktail on his tongue. Although he lacked skill in his movements, the enthusiasm was doing a lot for the scarred, older man.
His hands trailed down Robert’s sides, impossibly long digits slipping into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging him in closer. Robert could feel him smiling against his lips before he had to pull back again to suck in a breath.
“How do you want me?” Robert whispered whenever they parted, air coming out hot against Red’s kiss-swollen lips.
One of Red’s hands came up to cup his face, thick thumb spreading spit over his lips as his hazel eyes took in Robert’s already blissed out expression, “You’re really pretty,” he breathed, his voice shaking slightly with his excitement, “Wanna see you on your knees for me.”
The brunet dispatcher offered the younger man a cocky smirk, “That right, kid? You think I’m pretty?”
“Y-yes,” Red answered immediately, his freckles all but vanishing in the tide of his blush, “So pretty.”
Why did the sincerity of those words make him feel so much worse about all this?
He shook his head, trying to scatter the thoughts. But they had already planted seeds. As he sank to the grimy bathroom floor, the too-bright lights obscuring most of his vision, it was no longer this stranger’s body that he saw; but Herman’s instead.
His mind conjured hair that was auburn and not red, skin that was pale and flushed but unblemished. He saw storms where there once had been honeyed brown. He felt his mind already beginning to fog as he reached up to undo the belt buckle in front of his face, fingers numbly following the motions he had been excited to do just a few seconds ago.
He reached inside the man’s boxers and pulled him free, his mouth already beginning to water at the sounds that he was trying to hold back. Soft whimpers and whines, so devastatingly close to the ones that he wanted to hear, but not quite.
Peeling his mouth open slowly, as to give the man standing over him a show worth seeing, Robert allowed his tongue to slowly caress the underside of the uncut cock, coaxing the skin back to reveal the red and slick head. He hummed as he dipped his tongue into the burning hot slit, tasting salt and imagining the sea instead.
He’d seen Herman in the locker rooms before, had tried not to peek but had found himself looking anyway. Memorized the shape of him like it was terrain on a map, every nodule, every curve. As his tongue traced the paths of the stranger’s flesh before him, he pictured himself on a very different trail, one that pulsed and leaked across his lips in a way that would never leave him thirsty.
“Good boy,” he praised, open-mouthed, his tongue licking over the heated skin, “Such a good boy.”
Red covered his mouth with a hand, stumbling back against the side of the stall and hoping it would hold his weight where his trembling legs couldn’t. He was letting out a stream of noises ranging from small gasps to filthy groans, and Robert let them guide him right to the very edge of glorious subspace. Here, he could pretend until his heart was content. Here, the man standing over him was four inches taller and smelled of petrichor. His hands were soft and damp, and his words were kind.
In his imagination, Herman wasn’t dancing with anyone else. He wasn’t touching another man that wasn’t Robert. He wasn’t taking a stranger home to his bed, fucking them into a pillow as they cried out his name.
No. It was Robert that had that honor and Robert alone.
The boiling heat had returned to Robert’s stomach, rising like steam to flood out his nostrils with every exhale. His hands reached up to anchor themselves against legs that weren’t quite as muscular as he was hoping for, his fingers leaving impressions in the pale, freckled skin. He closed his eyes tightly against the real world, and buried that cock in his throat as far down as he could go and swallowed.
“Oh Fuck!”
“...Should we follow them? Go bother him? Make it hard for him to get it up?” Flambae lit a cigarette as the minutes ticked on. They hadn’t seen the two since they disappeared into the crowd.
“I could turn invisible…. Get a special preview. Alice you let me borrow your phone and–” Invisigal held out her hand, almost expectantly.
Alice pulled her phone close to her chest, giving Invisigal a dirty look, “Aw hell no, Bob-bob will kill us if we do that! No matter how many views that shit would get– I'm not risking my phone for that. That man has done worse things to people’s organs.”
“Well maybe he should have thought about that before he started dirty dancing in front of a bunch of us assholes—”
“If you wanna be on Robert’s shit list, go right ahead. I’m content to let him have his fun. Dude’s earned it– finally pulling that stick out of his ass, and replacing it with something a little more fun”
“...Herman…?” Colm squeezed Waterboy’s arm. It was such a shift in tone that the rest of the group turned to look.
“...Oh!”
“Oh, shit.”
“Waterboy– seriously babes, you good?”
“You look like you’re about to murder someone; I didn’t think you could even make a face like that. I’d hate to be the sad sucker on your shit list right no–”
Waterboy stood up, “...I need the restroom…”
8 pairs of eyes went wide.
In his head, Herman was thick enough to block out his airways completely. Huge and warm and heavy, all the things that made Robert fist his hard cock after a tough day at work in the shitty shower in his apartment.
Robert couldn’t help the sounds he had started to make as he conjured up those images, the low moans pitching up as he suckled, nails biting into a stranger’s skin.Though the cock in his mouth wasn’t the one in his imagination, he still felt himself giving into the rhythm of its frantic pulsing against his soft pallet.
Subspace had long since drowned out the sounds that Red was offering in response, Robert’s ears alternating between shrill ringing and muffled nothingness. If he listened closely enough though, he could have sworn he’d heard the squeak of neoprene beyond the edges of his fantasy.
It was difficult to tell just how long he had been kneeling on these tiles. His legs were numb, but his knees were no longer aching. Just as he reached for another image in the surplus in the back of his mind, a knock on the door abruptly pulled him back into his body again.
The images of a panting, thrusting Herman vanished with the second, rude knock, leaving only Red’s startled and rosy features in its wake. Rudely awakening him from the fantasy he was attempting to lose himself in.
Just as he was starting to sink into that fuzzy headspace where everything felt just a little better than it was.
Robert ignored it, bobbing his head to take the man even deeper, gurgling on his base, coarse red pubes tickling his face.
“Ohh— fu-fuck.” Red whimpered, covering his mouth to stifle his noises.
Another knock– steady– but purposeful.
Robert pulled off Red’s cock with a wet, dirty pop; he hoped the person behind the door had heard it: “It’s occupied, dipshit! Use the other one!”
Silence for a minute, but Robert could see the silhouette of shoes under the door; he knew the person hadn’t left. Just as he was about to insult the stranger again for his lack of comprehension–
“...Robert– open the door.”
Robert froze, straightening at the unexpected growl in such a familiar voice, “Waterboy?”
“Water– boy? Wait, you mean, like the hero?” Red whispered; the earlier fear at being interrupted and potentially getting in trouble for their public indecency giving way to genuine shock at learning who was currently outside their door. “You know the hero, Waterboy?”
“It’s complicated, kid–” Robert tried to say. He didn’t have time to get into this right now.
It was Waterboy who responded, though, “It’s not– not that complicated, Robert. We work together– at SDN. That’s all you had– could have said.”
Robert bit his bottom lip, looking down at the tiled pattern beneath his knees. Herman couldn’t even see him, so why did Robert feel so guilty? “I wasn’t….I was talking to…”
“...Oh.” Robert had never heard such a darkened oh in all his life; it gave him chills.
He felt like Waterboy was burning a hole right through the bathroom stall with his eyes.
“...Are you gonna open the door?” Waterboy suddenly asked, like he wasn’t making a crazy suggestion.
“Uhm…I’m kind of busy, Waterboy– is this an emergency? Can we maybe table this conversation for another day–”
“No, Robert– we really can’t.” Herman’s voice left no room for argument.
It made his heart rate spike; but it also grinded on Robert’s gears. Why the hell was Herman acting like Robert owed him an explanation? Like he could dictate Robert’s actions– could monopolize Robert’s attention? When he had gotten to do whatever the hell he wanted the other night– never once asking for Robert’s opinion on the matter?
As if he was actually allowed to have an opinion about that. Pot, meet kettle. Robert knew he wasn’t being fair, but he was hot, needy, and irrationally jealous.
It was fine if Herman wanted to act like a slut, but it was suddenly a big deal if Robert decided to do the same?
Why? Just because he was trying to fuck some guy who looked similar to Waterboy?!
“Actually, I think we can. I don’t think it’s your place to say what I can or can’t do! You had your fun the other night–”
“Wait– what? Is that what this is about—? Because Flambae saw me dancing here the other night? You’re mad I was dancing with someone– we’re not even– I don't understand why you’re–you and I aren’t even dating–”
Robert barreled through, not wanting to be interrupted again, “Exactly! I’m allowed to have my own fun, just as much as you are. You said it yourself, you’re not my boyfriend, so you have no right sticking your nose in my business, or demanding that I pa–”
BAM!
Both men inside the bathroom jumped as the locked door was suddenly kicked open; the latch tearing off its hinges and clattering somewhere in the dimmed lighting.
Herman stood in the doorway, his silhouette cast in a dark, seedy yellow haze from the poor florescence; he was standing to his full height, his goggles obscuring his vision. He looked almost like a cryptid.
“Did you just– the fuck, Herm! Did you just break down the fucking door?!” He was so shocked by the sudden turn of events, he hadn’t even realized he had used Herman’s civilian name by accident. Though it seemed like none of them really seemed to notice that fact– there were more pressing things going on between the three.
“Get off that floor,” Herman demanded; once more, his tone held none of its usual hesitancy. It was jarring; Robert tried not to falter under it. Herman’s head then angled to look at the other red head; his eyes still obscured by his goggles– masking his expression. It paralyzed the other man in place. “And you– I think you should– you need to head back to your friends. I need to talk to my– my friend, Robert here.”
Red’s brown eyes tracked from one man to the other uncertainly as he slowly tucked himself away again, “Uh, okay. Yeah.”
Robert slowly got to his feet again, shooting the young man an apologetic look, “Sorry about this, kid.”
The tall man shrugged back at him, “It’s okay. I get it.” His eyeline lifted to meet Herman’s over his head, and he added softly, “I think I understand what’s happening.”
He slipped out past the pair with his head down, ears flushed with embarrassment as Robert watched him go with a frown, “Wait, what do you mean?”
Instead of an answer, he was met with the bathroom door swinging closed again.
From behind him, he could hear the low grumble in Waterboy's chest, “You-you knew I was watching.”
The hairs on the back of Robert’s neck rose in response, electrified by the man’s unusually gruff tone. He turned his head to scowl back at him, “The whole team is here, kid.”
Herman leaned over him and Robert took a step back, twisting his body to face him. There was steam coming off the other man’s body and the temperature in the room had most definitely risen by a few more degrees. He jumped whenever Herman’s hand shot out, slamming into the wall of the cubicle just over his head. His eyes widened up at him, “Herm?”
“Were you trying to get my attention?” Herman snarled, his expression unreadable the way it was hidden behind his blue goggles, completely fogged out.
“What?” Robert felt his heart climbing up his throat at the man’s tone. His treacherous cock throbbed in his too-tight jeans.
Herman bent forward, his breath a hot wave across Robert’s skin, coaxing goosebumps along the flesh, “Maybe I wasn’t being ass-assertive enough…” he muttered. He reached up with his other hand, yanking off the goggles and tossing them aside. They clanked down somewhere in the next stall over, “I’ve been trying to get you to look at me since the day we met.”
Robert blinked. His ears were ringing again, the only sound in the small space between them being harsh, rushing breaths.
Herman’s grey eyes narrowed at him, dark and stormy and impossible not to fall into. He glanced towards the bathroom door and then back again, “And then you bring h-him in here,” he growled, “A guy who looks just like me.”
“Don’t pretend I was the one who started this,” Robert countered, eyes travelling along the arm that was practically pinning him to the stall until he reached the other man’s familiar face in the half-light, “You had the whole team talking.”
Hot anger flashed across Herman’s eyes, the pupil swelling like a tsunami to fill the entire space, “That was-”
“What?” Robert demanded, reaching up a hand to push back against the other man’s chest, feeling that burning heat rising up from his guts again, “It was what, Herm?” He pushed the man again, shoving against the sturdy weight of him, “You were dancing with somebody else.”
“Somebody else?” Herman repeated, steam practically clouding the space between them now.
Robert bared his teeth as he wound his fingers around the taller man’s collar, “Somebody that wasn’t me.”
Here he was, once more acting like the younger man owed Robert a sliver of his time. Acting like they were something more than they actually were. He had no right to be indignant over a relationship that was never established; that didn’t exist. That Robert yearned for, but refused to seek out himself for fear of getting hurt. He wasn’t willing to cross that line, so why did he expect Herman to be content with admiring him from afar; to be content with merely idolizing him, while asking for nothing else in return? Like some kind of loyal lap dog?
At best he sounded insanely jealous. At worst, he sounded downright delusional.
Grey eyes went impossibly wide and Herman sucked a breath in before quietly admitting, “He looked like you, you know.”
The change in tone practically gave Robert whiplash. His grip on the man’s collar slowly loosened with his surprise, “Who did?”
“The guy I was dancing with last night,” Herman clarified, “He-he had brown hair, just like you. Small– er, smaller, like you. But his eyes…he didn’t have your eyes.”
Robert’s hand dropped before he had even realised he had let the man go.
“Herman…”
The fire from before washed away like it was never there to begin with, the corners of Herman’s eyes twinkling slightly as he looked back at him, “I tried to imagine-pretend but it…it wasn’t the same.” His hand rose to cup Robert’s cheek, the genuine care almost startling, “No one is like you, Robert-sir. No one in the world.”
The burning heat in Robert’s stomach softened to a warmth he could tolerate, travelling up every limb, filling every finger and toe. Emotion made his throat tighten against his will, “I saw you, by the way.”
Red eyebrows arched, “What do you mean?”
“That day we met,” Robert continued softly, leaning into the other man’s palm without really even thinking about it. The damp heat of it was like everything he thought it would be. “I thought ‘man, this kid is something special’.”
Herman blushed, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and chewing on it, “I was just a janitor-I wasn’t even a proper hero.”
Robert shook his head, “Didn’t matter,” he replied, “You were a hero to me from day one.”
A short, airy laugh escaped from Herman’s parted lips, “I wanted to be angry at you.” He looked down, the red flush spreading along his ears and throat even in the shitty lighting, “I…I was so mad, Robert. Seeing you with that guy…I’ve never felt like that before.”
A wicked smile spread across Robert’s lips, “Jealous?”
“Yes,” Herman answered softly, with no hesitation in sight, “The thought of him putting his hands on you…”
“Like this?” Robert reached out to grab both of Herman’s wrists, moving the gloved hands to settle on his own waist. He practically purred whenever the fingers closed around him, able to meet with how long they were.
“R-Robert…”
Robert slid the man’s hands slowly downwards until they cupped his ass through his jeans, “Like this?”
Herman’s eyes were studying him intensely, captivated by every movement. He squeezed Robert’s small ass and the shorter man moaned in response, leaning into the touch.
“Or…” Robert continued, lifting one hand up and sliding it into the hot space between his waistband and his skin, “Maybe like this?”
Herman groaned through his clenched teeth, his hand wrapping around Robert’s length like it was made to be there. The way it filled his hand, damp with precum and pulsing with his racing heart…Herman moaned like he’d been hurt, the sound whiny and desperate.
“Fuck…” Robert leaned back against the stall wall, his head falling back to knock against the cheap plastic as Herman slowly moved his fist up and down the length of him, “Fuck, just like that.”
When he removed his hand from Herman’s wrist, the other man crowded in on him again, reaching up with the unoccupied hand to grab a fistful of his brown hair, yanking his head to the side as his lips latched onto the delicate, scarred flesh of Robert’s neck.
The whimper that escaped from the dispatcher’s parted lips was sinful, unlike any sound Herman had ever heard before. His dreams could never compare to this.
“Are you hard because of him?” Herman growled against his skin, “Or me?”
“You!” Robert cried out, precum dripping into his boxers and across Herman’s hand. His hips jerked towards the motion, the searing heat from earlier returning but focusing entirely on his cock now, “Fuck, its always been you, Herm.”
The flat of Herman’s tongue traced a line from the bottom of Robert’s throat right up to his ear, which he teased with the pointed edges of his canines, “Good.”
When he bit down harder, Robert moaned and arched against the stall, both hands springing out to grab his friend and pull him closer, “F-fuck, Herman,” he panted, his mind already going pleasantly fuzzy again, “Need you to fuck me against this wall. Right now.”
A second bite, much harder than the first, had Robert bucking and swearing into the darkness.
“B-beg me for it,” Herman hissed, pressing kisses along the jumping pulsepoint in Robert’s neck, “Beg me to forgive you. Beg me to m-make you mine.”
“Fuck, Herman, please!” Robert’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, the world spinning around him like he might just fall over any minute, “Please. Only want you. Only you.”
“Really?” Herman chuckled darkly. He nipped the lobe of Robert’s injured ear; biting hard enough to leave a red ring of teeth marks behind; as if he could leave a scar of similar impact. But even with this heat bubbling inside him, he loved this man more than he hated him right now. “Kind of hard to– to believe that, when you were on your knees just a second ago for some other–other guy. If that’s the best you can do– you’re gonna need– gonna have to beg harder than–”
“--But I was thinking of you! …I swear, I was thinking of you…” Robert admitted, head thrown back as he gasped for breath, grinding back on Herman’s touch. He was crowded between the warped plastic of the door Herman had kicked in, and Herm’s wet, lithe-but solid frame.
Now it was Herman’s turn to freeze at the admission. “...huh?”
“I wanted you– I wanted him to be you. You were right– I picked him on purpose; I picked him, knowing you were watching me. I picked him because I hoped that the similarities would get your attention.”
Herman didn’t know whether he should feel validated by this answer or not. It was a strange feeling that wasn’t entirely good, but it wasn’t necessarily bad either.
“...Why? Why did you do all this– if you just wanted it to be….why not just…” Why didn’t you pick me, then?
“I was being…I was acting like a brat, okay?! I was pissed off about the dance, and I wanted to take it out of you– even though you’d done nothing wrong. It wasn’t your fault– you weren’t the one bragging about what happened. And it wasn’t like we were together to begin with… what you did– what you do after work is none of my business!”
“...But you still felt the need to p-punish me?”
Robert closed his eyes, and nodded; when he said it like that, it really brought to light just what an absolute asshole he had been. “It was still driving me insane, almost 2 hours after the fact. …Because I like you. I like being the center of your attention. I like knowing I’m your favorite. And hearing about you getting hot and heavy with some other fucking– that you could want…want someone else… I felt like maybe…” He trailed off, head drooping to stare angrily– miserably– at his scuffed shoes.
Herman twisted his wrist around the head of Robert’s cock, forcing a shocked moan from the smaller man’s lips; head falling back against the stall again. Now that they were eye to eye again, Herman asked, voice shaky with anticipation, “Talk to me– ‘you felt like maybe’?”
“That maybe you were moving on, because neither of us had the courage– the balls– to just confess. I wasn’t going to ruin a good thing by being unprofessional, and I’m sure you had your own reasons for holding back.”
“But– you knew I liked you?! That’s what you’re inf–that’s what it seems– sounds like. You were aware of me– my feelings? I know I wasn’t subtle– subtle about it, at all, but I didn’t know that you–... If you knew how I felt– why not– why didn’t you make the first move? With you, I was never cer– sure. I wanted your attention; but you’re– you’re Mecha Man, and I’m just…Waterboy…”
Robert shook his head; his smile didn’t reach his eyes, “I’m not special– not to anyone. Never have been. Never been first for anything. Mecha Man Blue– the third legacy in a line of far more beloved Mecha Man’s. Robert Robertson the III– spoken for itself. I wasn’t even first to my own father– not when the people; the world, and all its needs– took precedence. Even when Blazer brought me on to SDN to join the program; the first thing she said was ‘we can work with this’. I wasn’t Z team’s first dispatcher– I wasn’t their first choice either.”
Robert met his eyes again; “But I was first to you. The way you looked at me– talked to me that day we were both getting interviewed; I felt special. It didn’t feel like you approached me because there was no one else around– you didn’t have to talk to me at all. But you did it, because you wanted to. You knew what it meant…for someone to look at you…to notice you first.”
‘It’s the first time I feel really important to someone.’
That was one of the few words Robert had been able to gleam from Waterboy’s note, all those months ago– when they were both starting fresh and new. In a strange, kind of comforting way, they had both started this journey together. Herman had been with him since the beginning.
Herman’s steely expression had turned to a moistened awe, droplets glistening off his lashes.
“I saw you from the very beginning, kid– and I knew you were special. And it meant…everything… to be special to you.” His mouth turned into a grimace, “Until it seemed like I wasn’t.”
He buried his face against the wet curve of Herman’s neck, breathing in that petrichor scent, lapping at the waterdrops streaking down his skin, tasting mountain spring fresh.
“I’m sorry. I'm sorry for acting so entitled over you. For trying to purposely make you jealous by grinding up on some look-a-like, instead of being the bigger fucking person, and talking to you like the adults we are. Fuck, I’m even sorry for using that other kid to fuel my selfish fantasies. I know you probably don't want me mentioning him right now, but it wasn’t right to use him like that. To use either of you. …Fuck, Herm, I’m sorry.”
This had turned from sexy to sobering real fast.
Honestly, Robert had no clue how they were going to salvage this, after he made a mess of things, and as Herman removed his hands from inside Robert’s pants– he was almost right to assume the mood had been ruined.
But Herman didn’t pull away entirely; the hand that had been inside his jeans rested on his hip instead, while the other cupped his cheek, and angled Robert to meet his gaze.
“So, just to make sure I got this right, you did all this, because you were jealous– of me potentially liking someone else? Even though it was completely factit– titiou– not true. You then acted out, and threw yourself at another guy in order to make me jealous; to get back at me for this false–fake– preconceived slight …because you didn’t want to lose me?” Herman asked.
Robert nodded, “Y-yeah… pretty much.” He blew out a long, withering sigh, “...When you say it out loud, I kind of want to find a place to bury my head in the sand. Like, Jesus Christ– how fucking pathetic could I be? Throwing a childish tantrum out of jealousy? God, that’s really fucking lame.”
“...Youre kind of– surprisingly spoiled…aren’t you? A b-brat would be accurate. Only child, you never learned how to share– so now you don't like– like having to?”
Robert couldn’t fight the blush rising to his face; it was a bit humiliating to be called out like this, justifiable though it was: “I suppose I deserved that.”
Herm’s thumb stroked his bottom lip; Robert gasped, eyes flashing to meet Herm’s, questioningly. “Looks like– I need to– I have to tame that bratty side of yours then.”
Robert felt his mouth go dry, as Waterboy’s words settled like ichor in his veins, “...Huh?”
Herman leaned in closer; warm breath caressing Robert’s trembling lips, “Since you apologized so nicely, I’ll forgive you. But, you still need to be prop–properly punished for how you act– behaved; it’s only fair. I’ll give you what you wanted– what you’ve been acting out for. I’ll wreck your insides– here,” He tapped the button of Robert’s jeans in implication, then lifted his hand to tap against Robert’s chest, right where his heart lay, “--and here, too.”
The hand on Robert’s face tightened, pushing his bottom lip down to reveal the man’s teeth and gums to the water-based hero. Seeing how sharp his puppy’s fangs really were. “--And when I’m done with you, you’ll never misbehave for me again.”
Herman leaned in, his lips just centimeters from Robert’s, “I’ll turn you into such a good boy…my good boy,” he clarified.
Because he had been an only child too, and while his grandmother had taught him how to share; while he was spoiled but never spoilt– he ached to be selfish with this one thing. This one thing– this person– Robert…he wanted to keep all for himself.
In that way, the two were incredibly similar.
“Fuuh–fuck. Herman, you mean it?”
Forget subspace, Robert was floating on a whole other level. The words ‘good boy’ rang in his ears over and over again.
“Oh pup, I’m gonna to ruin you from anyone else.”
Long fingers reached for the zip beneath his own collar, slowly pulling it downwards. The background noise of the music beyond the bathroom door matched the beat of his heart, pounding faster and faster against his rib cage as he worked to get his arms free, then stepped out of the suit. Never once taking his eyes off Robert, not even when he tossed the blue and yellow neoprene onto the bathroom floor.
“Kneel.”
Robert’s brown eyes widened, looking between Herman and his suit and then back again questioningly, “You want me to…?”
Herman nodded, slowly, decisively, “On your k-knees, Robert,” he answered, “Show me- show me that you’re willing. That you’re eager for me.”
Flushing with a mixture of shame and arousal, Robert dropped to his knees on top of Herman’s suit. Then, without another thought, he lowered his chest to the floor, arching his still-clothed bottom half into the air. The fabric clung to his ass, wet where Waterboy had touched him only a minute ago. His heart was racing, his chest caressing the floor with every in-breath.
Herman’s eyes tracked where his shirt was riding up and he licked his lips as he reached out and gripped both sides of Robert’s hips, pulling the man back against his soaked boxers. The prominent length there settled between Robert’s ass cheeks and made him moan and bury his face in his arms. Whenever Herman gave an experimental roll of his hips, Robert whined like a dog in heat, pushing back against him encouragingly.
“W-wow, you really are greedy, aren’t you?”
Robert’s ears burned hot as he hid his face, “Just for you, Herm.”
Herman trailed his fingertips along the bottom of Robert’s back, following the path of his waistband and delighting in the shivers he was evoking in his dispatcher. The beast in his belly growled territorially, aching to leave marks of its own in the already scarred flesh of the smaller man.
“Let's get these off.”
He reached beneath the man, fingers searching for the button to pop open his jeans. When he found it, he made short work of pulling back the tight material, enjoying the red burn of it caressing Robert’s skin on the way down. His dark grey boxers descended next, revealing the curve of his ass and bare, quivering thighs, dotted with freckles like the night sky. Flawed and absolutely perfect.
“Beautiful,” Herman whispered reverently, yanking off his gloves in order to tease the flesh between that gentle convex. Robert moaned softly, pushing back against the sensation of a pad against his hot, pink rim.
“Shit, Herm, I-” He let out a strangled noise as Herman nudged a fingertip inside, testing the give of the muscle.
“You’re so ti-tight,” the younger man marvelled, “Can barely even get a finger in.”
Robert’s hips pushed back against him again as he let out a weak protest, “It’s okay, I can take it.”
He yelped at the sudden sensation of Waterboy’s surprisingly sharp canines on one of his globes of flesh.
Herman pressed into the fresh bite with his thumb, enjoying the way Robert moaned and shuddered beneath his touch, “No,” he scolded, “I said I was gonna ruin you and I m-meant that only in the-in the best- the good way.”
Robert heard shuffling behind him as Herman pulled his hands away but before he had the chance to look back over his shoulder to see what the other man was doing, he felt the first firm licks of a devastatingly wet tongue at his hole.
He jolted, crying out in shock as Herman’s hands slipped beneath his hips and pulled him off the ground, his knees bent and floating in the man’s grip as his upper body was forced further against the neoprene suit.
“Oh fuck! Herm!” His hands scrambled for purchase on the shitty tiles as Herman moaned behind him, pressing against his rim and allowing his water to trickle down over his taint, soaking his balls and cock, and dripping off his tip.
He gasped with each movement of that long and expert tongue, shivering when it finally pushed through the tight muscle and inside his body. Herman began to bounce his hips in his grip, head jerking up to meet the motion wetly, the sounds so filthy that Robert thought he might pop his orgasm right there.
From outside of their cubicle, he faintly registered the sound of the door being opened and then a yelp as the person was pulled back outside again.
Did I just imagine that or did I smell Prism’s perfume just now? he thought.
That thought, and all other thoughts for that matter, vanished completely from his mind as the first of Herman’s fingers made its way in through his opening. The stretch was barely there now, his body unable to do anything else but relax and take it, as Herman raised and lowered his hips outside of his control. The fact that he was able to hold Robert up with one hand, seemingly without any difficulty at all, was really doing something for him.
“Damn, kid,” he groaned, “You really know what you’re doing.”
Herman gasped as he pulled back, leaving Robert’s darkened rim twitching mere inches from his face, “I’ve had plenty of pr-practise.”
That hot, horrible feeling of jealousy bloomed inside the dark-haired man’s chest again and he gritted his teeth, snarling back at him over one shoulder, “You’d better not be thinking about anyone else’s ass but mine right now, Herm.”
Even if he deserved it for his earlier stunt. He wanted to sound stern but it came out airy instead, laced with desperation.
Please, he thought, Please let me be enough for you.
“Only you, Robert,” Herman answered quietly, leaning back in again, “Only this tight, p-perfect ass.”
A second finger joined the first alongside his tongue and Robert bit his hand to stop himself from howling. Pleasure was washing over him in waves, turning his limbs to complete jelly. He was totally lax in Herman’s hold, allowing the other man to move him around like a little toy. That thought made a droplet of precum drool out to join the puddle of Herman’s water currently forming on the suit underneath him.
“Fuck, baby, I want you so bad,” Robert groaned, fingers squeezing that eyesore of a suit like a lifeline, “Want you to fill me up completely. Make me cum on your cock.”
Robert’s knees trembled as he was lowered down again and he chanced a look back at his companion, flushing at the sight. Herman was working his wet boxers down his slim hips, his huge cock springing free and slapping his stomach before descending again to hang between his legs. The skin was darker than Robert had ever seen it, almost purple at the tip, and he was throbbing hard where his own hand had moved in to spread the slick all across it.
“You g-gonna be a good boy, Robert?” he asked breathlessly, biting his bottom lip as he looked the older man over, “Gonna-gonna do as I say?”
The brown-haired dispatcher nodded dumbly, swallowing the drool that was threatening to fill his mouth. He spread his legs wider, lowering his head down in obvious submission, presenting himself like a beast to be bred, “I’m all yours, Herm. Make a good dog out of me.”
The sound Herman made was somewhere between a whimper and growl. “Pocket.”
“P-pocket?”
“In the pocket of my wetsuit– grabbed it on the counter when I came in. There were condoms and lube…”
Robert began blinding pawing at the crumpled suit on the floor, until he felt a small bump protruding in the side; it took another minute to find the opening, but finally he pulled out a small pack of lube. Only lube. “No condom kid– do I need to teach you the importance of safe sex?”
His laughter was cut short when Herman’s hand made sharp contact with one asscheek.
“I don’t need it– when I plan to make you mine. When the only one who’s gonna dirty you from here on out– is me.”
Fuck! That shouldn’t have turned him on as bad as it did.
There was a pregnant pause, and then, with a little less confidence, Herman mumbled, “--But just so we’re clear… I’m tested— I am clean.”
Robert couldn’t help laughing at such honest dissonance; even when Herman smacked his ass again, it just made him squeak and laugh harder. “Fuck kid– you’re adorable.” He wiggled his hips, hearing the hitch in Waterboy’s breath. “I’ve been out of the game so long– so yeah, no– I’m good too. Only had cock in my mouth recently, so I’m perfect for ruining. Fuck, Herm– Ruin me already!” He knew that would get the younger man riled up. Because he was admitting it had been awhile since someone touched him, or because he was bringing up what he was about to do in the bathroom with someone else, it wasn’t clear– and honestly, Robert didn’t care. Honestly, he begged that both reasons would do the trick.
The sound of the package tearing and the drip drops of liquid hitting the tiled floor was more than answer enough.
And then he felt it, the wet tip of Herman’s cock teasing his entrance, circling it once, twice— before the muscles started contracting as Herman bared down upon him. The tip slipped inside with a wet squelch, and Robert grunted. But Herman didn’t even wait for him to adjust. He was serious about ruining the older man; he kept pushing forward, Robert whining as his body felt the stretch– the strain. Even with preparation, and lube, it was clear that Herman wanted Robert to feel it. This was going to be rough– exactly what he deserved for pushing such a perfect man past his patience. Herman’s cock felt like a burning metal rod; searing his insides.
It was honestly everything he could have wanted.
“Ooooh, fuh— Fuck, Herm. You’re gonna split me right down the center if you keep pushing in like that.”
Herman curved his spine, lips warm and devastating along Robert’s shoulderblades. “That’s…that’s sort of the point.”
God, where did Herman learn to talk like this?
Robert buried his face in the crook of his elbow, groaning as another inch was added; he was maybe about halfway in now. He felt Herm’s hot breath against his notched ear, followed by a slick tongue tracing the shell of it, dipping into the missing piece in a way that felt both ardent and obscene. A shudder from deep within rocked the dispatcher to his very core, and he pushed back into that solid frame, forcing himself to take the man even deeper.
Herman grunted, a soft warning on his lips to mask the genuine concern, “Easy! S-stay still; you don’t get to– you’re not setting the pace; I am. You’re going to take what’s gi– what I give you, and you’re– you’re going to like it, understand?”
Robert whined, completely sinking into Herman’s assertion. He nodded his head to show his obedience, then gasped when fingers curled into his hair, and forced his head up.
“Sp-speak.”
“Ahhn! Fuck! Yes– yes sir. I’ll be good! I’ll stay still, Herm. Promise! I won’t move unless you tell me to!”
“B-better. This old dog can learn new tricks, then.” A kiss to the top of Robert’s ear, before Herman bit softly down, nibbling along the helix. He ground his hips forward, pushing those last few inches in. Robert whined when the man finally bottomed out; hips snuggly pressed against the slight slope of his ass. Herman was big everywhere; every part of him encompassed the smaller man– from his towering frame, to his hands and the length of his finger, to his massive cock. Speaking of…
As for inside: he felt completely stuffed up. Herman’s cock sat deep; he wondered if he could feel the other man nestled in his stomach. He began to move his arm to check, when the teeth against his ear went from a playful nibble to a sharpened reprimand. He whined; a drop of drool escaping the corner of his mouth, and dripping onto the suit below him.
“Wait– I’m not trying to…” He swallowed, licking his lips to stop himself from drooling again, “Sorry. I want… I should have asked, first. I was curious to know if I could feel you.”
Herman pulled away, curiosity lacing his voice, “Feel me?” Wasn’t that what was happening right now?
“Through my stomach,” Robert clarified, glancing over his shoulder, eyes half lidded and drunk with lust.
Robert could certainly feel Herman’s cock when it throbbed inside him at those words.
“O-oh.”
"Please… please Herm, can I check?”
Herman nodded, breathing suddenly ragged, “Y-yes. That’s…I’ll allow it.”
Now with express permission, Robert reached down to press his palm firmly up against his abdomen. There! Right as he added pressure, he felt something; a small protrusion that didn’t yield when he pressed back into it. Just to be certain, he ground the heel of his palm against it, and both men found themselves throwing back their heads to keen.
“Oh god, Robert!”
“Herman!”
Robert pushed back against the intrusion, and Herman responded by pulling out about halfway, before thrusting back to the hilt; they both felt it through his hand.
Robert brought his face down, pressing his cheek against the wet neoprene suit as he whined, gasping at the harsh pace Herman was already setting. He could feel every glorious inch of the other man bullying open his tight channel, an obscene mix of lube and water pouring down his crack and splashing onto the floor. The tip nudged up through Robert’s palm, burning hot as a brand through his entire body.
“Fuck, Herm,” he muttered, “So fucking…deep.”
“Going to-to touch you where no one else has,” Herman hissed out through his own clenched teeth, “Bruise your guts, mark every p-part of you…”
Robert keened, dropping both of his hands to the floor so he could bury his face in them. Tears were already spilling down his face from the pleasure of it all, the way his head was already so high above the clouds right now that all he could think was Herman, Herman, Herman.
The sounds the other man was making behind him, soft grunts and mutters of praise, had Robert whining and dripping onto the floor. Knowing that it was his body summoning those noises out of the other man, his tight little hole that Herman was destroying…
The wet squelch of Herman burying himself inside him was enough to make Robert arch his back, half-delirious as he screamed his name into the echoey bathroom. He came untouched over the man’s suit and the hungry beast inside him roared in triumphant at the claim he was staking.
Mine, it cried, All fucking mine!
Instead of slowing down, Robert felt the man behind him shift his weight, his legs moving to both sides of his hips and spreading him open. With a whisper of, “I’m not done with you yet,” Herman pointed his cock downwards and sank in again.
The perfect blend of pleasure and pain flared hot and white across Robert’s awareness. His legs started to tremble where they were holding his hips up, subjected to the pounding of the younger man’s hips. Every harsh smack against his prostate made more tears blossom from his eyes, sliding down his face.
“H-Herman,” he gasped, dizzy with sensation, “T-too much. So-so sensitive.”
“I thought you were going to be my good puppy,” Herman said teasingly, “And s-stay still?”
“M-my legs…” Robert started weakly, “They’re shaking so much. Don’t know how long I can-"
All at once, Herman was standing up behind him, his blissfully long cock sliding completely out of Robert’s hole. The brunet let out a pathetic cry as he started to look back over one shoulder, terrified that he had said too much.
“Wait, Herman, please, I’m sorry, I-”
The super crouched down again and in an instant he was picking the smaller man up, slamming his back into the stall wall. The cheap, yellow plastic wobbled from the impact and Robert barely had a second to breathe before Herman was grabbing his knees and spreading him open, sliding into the space he created between the dispatcher’s legs like he belonged there.
“Hold on tight,” he whispered, his smile devilish as he squeezed Robert’s knees.
Obediently, his body wrapped around that of the taller man, opening up as Herman got into position at his hole again. When Robert sank down, Herman thrust up to meet him and the older man threw his head back with a howl, seeing stars.
God, his dick was like something from a fairytale. A Goldilock’s dick. Just fucking right.
And this position was even better, impossibly deep with every thrust, and the most fucking beautiful grey eyes in the whole world looking at him like he was something worth having. Worth taking apart and putting back together again.
All at once it hit him, what exactly he was doing, or more importantly, who he was doing. The Herman in front of him was no mere fantasy, no illusion born of loneliness or crippling jealousy, he was real and flushed and gasping his name every time he bottomed out. His strong hands were holding him up and dropping him down, his water was dripping down his body, healing scars both inside and outside of his body that he had had since he was 9 years old.
I love this man, he realised, emotion making his throat tighten up, So fucking much it scares me.
Brown eyes glanced down towards two, damp lips, watching as a pink tongue appeared to trace them like an invitation. He wanted to close that final distance between them, wanted to surrender everything to this man, lay himself bare, bones and all.
He realized they hadn’t kissed once since they started; it wasn’t an unfamiliar experience– he had had past flings that never once touched his lips, whether by their own indifference, or by his own prerogative. But with Herman it felt wrong. This wasn’t the kind of person you hooked up with, and then avoided eyes if you passed each other on the street; this wasn’t someone you were ashamed to bring home to meet the parents– or uncle/brother/friend in his case. Herman was the opposite; Herman was someone he wanted to stay. He wanted to feel that closeness, that intimacy; he wanted to sink into the younger man’s sweetness, and lose himself completely. He wanted to be Herman’s in more than just sex and heat– laid bare in heart and soul, not just body. He had already admitted how much Waterboy consumed his thoughts; how much he yearned for the young hero’s attention, how much he craved his devotion and validation. He wanted to be this man’s everything. Now to only prove it– to seal it with a kiss.
Tightening his grip around Herman’s neck, he slowly pulled himself up and in, his eyes beginning to close as the distance narrowed.
Then Herman pulled away and the bottom of Robert’s stomach dropped out.
He let out a pitiable whine, “Herm,” he sniffed, the tears falling freely from where they had been clinging to his dark lashes, “Please. Wanna kiss you. Wanna kiss you so bad.”
Was Herman still cross with him?! Or was Robert not good enough to kiss?
“You don’t-don’t get to kiss me with the taste of that man’s cock in your mouth,” Herman snarled, “You don’t get to kiss me until you wash your mouth out.”
Realisation made Robert’s eyes grow larger and he immediately opened up wide, sticking his tongue out while huge, brown eyes stared imploring back at the other man.
A dark smile spread across Herman’s lips, “Such a good boy you are.” He brought his face in as he summoned his water powers into his throat, gargling the words, “Don’t swallow,” before he was pouring it across Robert’s waiting tongue.
The shorter man groaned around the sound of flooding water, his cock twitching and leaking between their bodies as droplets missed their mark and dribbled down his shirt.
Herman fucked him harder as Robert tilted his head back, holding the water in his open mouth, “Rinse it out. All of it.”
Robert gargled and moaned, bouncing with the continuous hard motions of Herman’s hips. He hiccuped and writhed, his cock smacking lightly against his stomach, dripping with the last remnants of his orgasm. He drooled out from the corners of his lips, wet trails sparkling along his chin.
Leaning in to watch, Herman commanded, “Now spit it out.”
Without another thought about where they were, Robert turned his head and spat in the direction of the toilet before leaning back and showing off his tongue again.
All clean.
“Good boy,” Herman praised, “Now kiss me.”
Robert tangled his fingers through the hair at the nape of Waterboy’s neck, violently yanking him down to receive his promised reward, their lips crashing together with an almost painful clack of teeth. The moan they shared between them was one of pain, rather than of pleasure, but that numbing tingle quickly dissipated when tongues came together in a hot, slippery frenzy. Water and spit poured from Herman’s panting mouth directly into Robert’s; half swallowed in greedy gulps, while the rest trickled down his chin, darkening the front of his already dampened work shirt.
Herman brought his hips back, before thrusting forward in a brutal, possessive pace; each slam of their hips punctuated by the rattle and creak of the bathroom stall.
“Aah, ahh, haa, haah, Fuhck! H-herm! Herman!” Robert panted against the other’s lips, tightening his hold as the flames of desire were reigniting inside him; his half hard dick desperately trying to fill with blood again. He didn’t know if he would get it up fast enough before he came again; not with the way Herman was burrowing into him like an animal desperate to hibernate, or if he’d get hard mere seconds before his second orgasm was ripped out of him again. Both ideas left him dizzy.
“You like that– good boy? Like– like me pounding you like the little slu– whore?-- whore that you are?” It was hard to tell if the fat drops pouring down Herman’s face were from his natural born powers, or if he was sweating profusely from exertion. It could have even been a combination of both; licking his upper lip, the water had a salty taste to it.
Robert moaned, wantonly, rapidly nodding as his own body fought to stay cognitive; he felt like he was slipping in and out of consciousness; black spots dancing behind his eyelids each time Herman’s cock rammed his prostate in perfect succession.
“I wanna hear you, Robert. S-speak,” Herman demanded; his next thrust was punishing, grinding down directly against Robert’s prostate with a steady, continuous rock of his hips. He stayed in that position.
“Ahhhn!!! Holy shit! My god! Yes! YES! Herman! I like it! I LOVE it! I love it so fucking much! I love—” He bit down on his tongue; too much– too soon! “I fucking love how good you’re making me feel. Oh god, baby– I’m your slut. I’m your whore; fuck, Herm– I’ll be whatever you need me to be!”
“Mine. Say you’ll be mine,” A hand, surprisingly warm and gentle, cupped his cheek; Robert opened bleary eyes– he hadn’t realized he’d closed them– vision blinking back into focus to find steely gray eyes staring intensely back at him. Smouldering. That was the only word Robert could describe the fire burning beneath those eyes.
Robert felt the wave crash over him, right before he was dragged under.
“Yours! Fuck! Herm, I’m yours! I’m yours! I’m fucking yours! Harder! Please baby, harder! Wanna be the last one who ever gets to see you like this! The last man you ever look at! Fuck! Fuck me! All I want is you! All I’ll ever want is you! I’ll be yours! I promise; just–! Fuck, give me the same! I’ll be yours, if you’ll be mine!"
As the words tumbled out of his mouth like a deluge; he could feel the faded embers of his jealousy stoked. “...Mine! Baby you’re mine! FUCK HERMAN, YOU’RE MINE!!! Won’t let anyone else have you! I’m yours! You fucking get it, kid?!” He yanked on Herman’s hair, forcing the hero’s head back; his lips finding Herman’s Adam's apple, he sucked violently as he growled, “I won’t share you with anyone! I won’t share! Fuck everyone else! You’re the one thing I want for myself!”
Herman moaned; eyes rolling back into his head at the sharp, piercing pain of Robert’s teeth in such a vulnerable vital spot. The hand on Robert’s face slid down to readjust his grip on his dispatcher’s waist; squeezing with the intent to bruise; he doubled his efforts.
“Robert–! Robert! Calm– calm down– Ba-bad boy. I told you to behave!”
Robert growled around Herman’s throat, “Not until you say you’re mine! Not until I’m yours– all of yours!”
“Robert!! S-shit!!! Fuck! You’re so fucking—selfish! Oh god, my selfish fucking brat! Yours! I– I’m yours!!! I’m yours, Robert! I won’t– don’t plan to share you with anyone else either!” He could feel the blood leaking down his throat, mixing with his water and sweat. “So don’t you– don’t ever do what you did tonight ever again; cause I won’t allow it! Won’t allow– let anyone touch you!”
Hearing his mutual declaration, Robert finally released the grip on Herm’s throat, head falling back against the wall, eyes rolling to the back of their skull. He could taste blood on his tongue; Herman’s blood– the blood that now belonged to Robert. He let himself go completely pliant in his lover’s arms, letting Herman fuck him like a ragged doll.
He could trust Herman to take care of him. He knew Herman would keep him safe.
“Yes! Herm! Yes! Thank you! Thank you! I’m yours, baby! Yours!”
Robert knew what he must’ve looked like right now; flushed and desperate, teeth and lips painted red with Herman’s blood.
The plastic stall was warping under the nonstop pressure of two bodies fucking angrily against it– not when one of them was a super who’s Meta human strength seemed to reveal itself under intense, emotional strain. And a heated love confession and mutual possession in the midst of a jealous ravaging would do just that.
His body filled in the dent in the wall perfectly, every thrust making the entire structure creak dangerously.
He was an addict, addicted to the feeling of being under Herman’s gaze. His affection, his attention, he couldn’t get enough of it.
“Cum inside me, Herm,” he begged, feeling the man throbbing in his guts with every deep dive inside him, “Please. I-I need it.”
Herman pressed all the way in, his hips rocking back and forth as he stole another kiss from Robert’s lips. He was groaning into his mouth, half a whimper of Robert’s name shoved between his teeth.
“Oh Robert. My pretty boy, my p-pretty puppy.”
“Yes, Herm, yes…” Robert whined as he clung to the other man as tightly as he could.
The younger man slammed home once more and heat began to bloom in Robert’s stomach. It made him audibly shiver, the sensation of cum filling him up enough to make his own dick splatter between them, barely even hard enough to hold itself up but determined to make a mess of them regardless.
“Mine,” Herman hissed between his teeth, burying his head in the smaller man’s shoulder as he continued thrusting, pushing his cum in as deep as it would go, “Finally…finally all m-mine.”
It was a minute or two later before Robert realised that his entire body was shaking with the comedown, his calves cramping with how tightly he had wrapped them around the other man’s slender hips. His heart was pounding and his head felt dizzy, like he’d just been shot up with something chemical from a needle.
He threaded his fingers through ginger hair, petting the man’s head as he continued to catch his breath, feeling Herman’s breath washing over his damp skin. His partner’s hands were noticeably trembling where they held him, and Robert leaned down in search of Herman’s grey eyes.
“Hey…you okay?”
Herman slowly peeled himself away, raising his head to meet Robert’s eyes. He was flushed and dripping, skin pink and rosey in the most attractive way. His lips were curved up in this tired little smile that Robert had never seen before, and he reached out to rub the corner of it with a thumb.
“That got a bit intense there,” he said, searching the other man’s face, “Are you doing alright?”
Herman nodded, swallowing down some of the excess water that was still filling his mouth, “I’ve…I’ve never done anything like that before,” he admitted, his brightly-coloured eyebrows dipping downwards slightly, “I…I don’t know what came over me.”
Robert couldn’t help the coy smirk that came to his face as he glanced down into the space between them and back up again, “I’m pretty sure that was me, Herm.”
The hero let out a little disapproving huff from his nose, “Robert,” he moaned, “I’m-I’m serious.”
Robert’s expression softened into something more sincere, “I know, Herm, I just…I’m not usually good at this sort of thing. Feelings, and all that.”
A flicker of real fear passed over Herman’s eyes, “Shit,” he muttered, “Was this-”
“No,” Robert cut him off before his thoughts could spiral, “This wasn’t just a sex-thing, Herman. I meant what I said. I…” He averted his eyes, unable to meet the man’s gaze for this next part, “I want to be yours. All of me. And all of you, too.”
Slowly, Herman began to unwind his legs from his hips, lowering him down and helping him to stand. Robert hissed at the feeling of the cold water that covered the bathroom floor, murky with the mixture of their fluids.
“Are you sore?” Herman asked, reaching out with both hands to rub at the older man’s hip-joints.
He could feel the burn in his lower back, in his legs; they throbbed with every minute or two that passed: “A little, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t ask for– promise. It’s a good kind of sore– like after a really good workout– and boy, did you work me out!” Herman did chuckle at this attempt at humor, and Robert felt like a million bucks, running a hand through his messy hair, “So I’m all good, kid.”
“I want to be all yours too.”
Brown eyes rose at the shaky declaration. He couldn’t help the hopeful smile that pulled at his lips, “You do? Even after seeing…” He gestured towards himself, “All of this?”
Herman offered him a self-conscious laugh, “I got p-pretty, um, heated too. If you remember.”
Robert arched a dark eyebrow at him, “Oh, I remember,” he purred, “Not sure my body will ever let me forget it.”
“Good.” Herman looked so impossibly cute with that determined little smile on his face.
Robert’s heart tripped over itself with affection, “So…” he started, surveying the damage they had done to the bathroom stall, “Uh, what do we do about all this?”
Herman made a face at the dented bathroom door, “Oops.”
“Think SDN has a handyman that could hook us up?” Robert joked, already digging in the pocket of his discarded jeans for his phone. He jolted when he felt the sensation of the other man’s hands on his ass, “Woah! Down boy!”
Herman pulled back, looking a bit chastised, “I was just…there are marks on your skin. I hurt you.”
“Good,” Robert smirked, looking proud of that fact, “I wanted you to mark me. Lets everyone know who I belong to.”
That statement made the taller, slender man flush so prettily that Robert wanted to make some marks of his own on that tantalizingly pale flesh. His heart stuttered, deciding to keep the other part of his thoughts to himself: that he wanted the reminder for himself; he wanted to remember Herman’s impassioned ferocity. It was tangible proof that he still deserved the other’s devotion.
“You-you don’t…regret it then?” Herman asked quietly, watching him as he bent to retrieve his clothes. He looked at his suit, and then the water on the floor, debating internally with himself; finally, deciding the damage wasn’t going to get any better, he filled his mouth, and began to rinse his suit off, hoping to remove some of whatever was most likely crusted on the bathroom floor. It was a shame to also have to say goodbye to the pretty white of Robert’s enjoyment, but walking out of the bathroom with dried cum on his suit was going to draw more than one pair of eyes. …actually, considering how loud and wild they had gotten, a crowd of gawkers was definitely unavoidable at this point, especially when a number of them would be his own damn coworkers. He realized with a dawning, embarrassing horror, that he had just committed a crime tonight. ‘Damn Z team, Robert was right, they were slowly corrupting him.’ As soon as the thought arrived, he was tucking it into the back corner of his mind for a different Herman to worry and freak out over. He was too drained of thoughts and fluids to panic right now. He shook his wetsuit out, before slowly pulling it back on again, “You don’t regret…me?”
“Not for a second, Herman.” He stepped forward, leaning up, as his hand caressed and guided Herman’s face lower, to seal his resolve with a gentle kiss. “...And you don’t regret me?”
Herman let out a breath that was half laughter, half exasperation, “Are you kidd– you’re joking, right? You are the last thing I would– I’d regret. No, absolutely not, I don’t regret you.”
“...even if I suggest finding that guy from the bar, and apologizing for leaving him blue-balled?”
Herman glared weakly; not the same level of inferno, but Robert could see the smoldering embers still in his eyes, “Okay, you’re pushing– doing this on purpose. Remember who has the s-super strength and stamina.”
Robert wiggled his eyebrows, “Oh, trust me, I’m aware.”
“...B-brat,” Herman huffed, pulling him into his arms, and holding him tight. “And you told me to– to calm down.”
“...looks like I still need some training,” Robert muttered, resting his cheek against Herman’s chest; he could feel the faint, steady beat of Herman’s pulse beneath his clothes. It was calming. The exhaustion from a deep satiation was starting to set in, “Maybe we can continue the lessons back at my place?”
Herman looked down at him, eyes widening, “Are you inviting me ov– to spend the night?”
“If you wanna…” Robert shrugged flippantly, then, realizing he was tired of being aloof, said, “Actually…I would very much like for you to come home with me. Tonight. More than just tonight. A lot more– but for right now, tonight would be enough.”
Head still tucked against Herman’s chest, he could feel the moment the hero’s heart started racing. He bit his lip, stifling the sappy smile fighting to make its way onto his face; this was still the Waterboy he knew.
“I would– yeah. I would very much like that too.”
The door to the restroom creaked open, and 8 pairs of bodies jumped back simultaneously.
Herman froze in the doorway, staring at his team with an expression that was similar to that of a prey animal– a stark contrast to the predatory strut he had gone in with. On his back, wrapped around his neck, was his prize: Robert, with his face nestled in the crook of Herm’s neck, looking absolutely debauched. His whole outfit was soaked, like he had jumped into a pool with all his clothes on. His hair had been mused and tousled in every direction. Eyes closed, the man looked almost as worn out as a bar hop gone bad, but unlike one of those excursions, here he couldn’t have looked happier.
“Shit, fucker! Took you long enough–!” Flambae huffed, tossing back his ponytail; he was trying to sound annoyed, to hide the clear blush still painting his cheeks. “Was starting to think you two had fallen in, or something.”
“Were you guys– were you guys just out here the whole– this whole time? Standing by the door… Listening to us?” Herman gasped; looking scandalized.
Robert did not sound nearly as shocked, mumbling into the other’s skin, “Did you expect anything less from these freaks?" Herman could feel Robert’s smirk against his collar; Herman would admonish them, Robert included– if it weren’t for the fact this was a conundrum of his own making. Voyeurism seemed a lot less inexcusable when you countered that fact with ‘Public Indecency’-- another felony.
“Hey babes, you should be thanking us; we were puppyguarding the door so no one else would walk in and interrupt– I mean, so you two wouldn’t get in trouble with the club’s owner. Do you know how many men needed to piss and shit, that we had to fight back? It was about 20, at least– right, Sonar?”
Sonar shook his head, dazed, “I stopped counting after two– I was more focused on the audio experience my ears were being blessed with.” For once his nose wasn’t stained powdery white, but rather was dripping a small, reddened stream.
Invisigal crossed her arms, and kicked at the ground, muttering something like ‘lucky asshole– ears in 4k,’ beneath her breath.
“There were several,” Malevola ignored Sonar to reaffirm herself. “About several dudes we had to direct to the downstairs bathroom; and boy were they pissed–especially the ones who ended up pissing themselves.”
“Plus,” Prism said, hand on her hip, “Me and Golem were trying to keep that one–” she pointed to the still pouting Visi, “From sneaking in, and filming an amateur porno.”
“It was not amateur porn; the word you’re looking for is blackmail. Could have totally exploited Robert to get all the best shifts.” A little breathless, she reached into her pocket to take a puff of her inhaler.
Attempted revenge porn and coercion– more felonies to wrack up; they were tallying them up like a bar tab.
At the disapproval, that totally-didn’t-look-like-a-pout on his face, Invisigal rolled her eyes, “Hey– I didn’t actually do it.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Bruno snickered, as Invisigal elbowed him in his squishy ribs. They shared a playful laugh.
Courtney continued, wiping the clay stuck to her elbow and reattaching it to her monstrous friend “--I just listened like the rest of these assholes. So if they’re going to try and throw me under the bus, I’m taking the rest of them with me.”
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Prism added. “For keeping ya’ll from trending.”
Herman was honestly surprised that Prism hadn’t recorded them herselves; then again, she had become a good friend to him. They all had, really. His team were a bunch of assholes, but they meant well. In their own, little, uncomfortably boundary-pushing way, they were looking out for the two men.
…Or they were just a bunch of perverted assholes, but Herman had no right to be throwing stones from his glass house.
“So…” Flambae said, stressing the o, “Bobert– you gonna tell us what the hell you were on tonight?”
“--And how someone might be able to score some of whatever that was?” Sonar added coyly; about as coy as getting hit with a 10-ton truck.
Robert let out a yawn; he hadn’t once looked up from his position, content to rest in the crook of Herman’s neck, eyes closed, and completely unbothered, “No, not really. Why would I share all my best secrets? Score on your own merits, instead of stealing from my playbook.”
He didn’t want to admit that he’d gotten what he wanted by acting like a spoiled brat; Flambae would never let him live it down.
Besides, there was only one person he wanted to show that side of himself to.
“Aw come on– don’t be like that, Bobby,”
Waterboy interrupted, before they could start dogpiling, “Guys– he’s tired–”
“--Yeah, I’ll bet he is,” Colm said with a wink.
Herman fought the blush off his face and continued, “I’m gonna take him home– back to his apartment, I mean! Not– Not like mine or anything–” He realized he was digging the hole deeper for himself. “--We’re calling it a night,” he finished lamely; at least that sounded less indicative.
Janelle gave him a drunken thumbs up, her smile puckish, which he also tried very hard to ignore.
Malevola stepped forward, gesturing to the sword on her back, “You need a ride?”
Herman shook his head, smirking, “And owe you a favor? So you can ask– get all the dirty gossip?”
Malevola laughed, shrugging her shoulders as she stepped down again; “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She then gave him a pointed look, adding, “But seriously, if you guys want me to get you back faster, you can count on me– no strings attached.”
Herman shook his head again, smile softening, “Nah– we’re okay. Thank you. I think we need the– fresh air would do us good.” His skin was flushed, and he still felt a little boiled over.
With a few more protests and snooping under the guise of offers to tag along, the two wished their friend’s good night, and made their way down the stairs for the exit.
Waterboy could feel eyes trailing behind them as he passed the other club patrons; he imagined they both looked a sight. Tomorrow he might feel ashamed for his blatancy, but tonight, he only felt triumphant.
“You’re got this dopey smile on your face,” Robert commented, peeking over his shoulder to look at the younger man’s face.
“It’s cause… it’s cause everyone knows… knows you’re mine.”
Robert shivered, cheeks flushing as he buried his head back in the crook Herm’s neck. “You’re kind of shameless tonight, kid.”
“I think we know who– who started it,”
Robert nodded, peppering soft kisses and kitten licks against wet skin; he tasted good– a mix of sweat and fresh water; satisfying his dry mouth, while also making him yearn for more, “What can I say? I’m just the jealous type.”
The music that started up was fitting, as it switched to Doja Cat.
As they crossed the lower deck, Herman noticed something that caused him to stop in his tracks. “Oh… shit–”
“What? Something the matter?” Robert didn’t raise his head to look.
“You know how you were worried about that other guy? The one you were dancing with?”
Strange, Robert didn’t expect Herman of all people to bring attention to that. “...Yeah?”
“Well– it looks like– he seems–I think he’s gonna be okay. I don’t think he took your rejection– don’t think he took it too hard.”
Now Robert was curious; lifting his head to follow Herm’s line of sight. Sure enough, there on the dance floor he saw Red dancing with another man; a small brunette with messy hair, wearing a soaked mesh tank top and black booty shorts. They seemed to be having fun; the taller man’s eyes not straying from his dance partner for a second– mesmerized. “Hey, well, good for him! I hope he gets lucky with this one; earned it for putting up with our melodrama.” Unlike with Herm, seeing the young man getting hot and heavy with someone else didn’t flare up any negative feelings within himself; he truly was rooting for the man.
“...That was him…” Herman suddenly muttered.
“Hmm?” Robert peeked over Herm’s shoulder to study his face, “Who?”
Herman caught his eyes, his smile a little guilty, “The person– the person your guy is dancing with? That was– he was the guy I danced with yesterday… Heh, I guess he– the guy’s got a type?”
Robert zeroed back in on the dance floor, on the small brunette that had turned around to rock back into Red, dropping his upper half to the floor, before slowly sliding his way back up; he was putting his whole fucking body into his performance. He certainly had flexibility that Robert was lacking; that realization brought forth a swirling, molten feeling.
“...Oh.”
Herman had never heard such a dangerous exclamation.
Robert was suddenly up against his ear, breath hot as he growled, “So this was my body double? The ‘me’ you were imagining?”
“Ahhh well– uhm– I mean– not– kinda– it wasn’t like– I don’t remember him doing all that–”
Robert could feel the volcano erupting; he licked the shell of Herman’s ear, gently nipping the lobe as he noted, “He’s not a bad dancer.” His words were casual, but the undertones were astronomical. Robert’s brown eyes looked pitch black under the club lights, as he glared at Herman. The man was seething, and he never looked more erotic!
Herman whined; he could feel the heat growing on his back, the noticeable press of Robert’s crotch rubbing over his dorsal region; could feel his own body responding to Robert’s reactions, his flaccid dick giving a twitch of intrigue. He knew it wouldn’t take much more before he was straining against his suit again; a pro or con of his endurance, Herman couldn’t answer at this point in time.
“Herman, why don’t we pick things up back at my place?” It was a promise, brandished in claws and fangs, and fire. Love, Lust, and something just a little freakier. “We have a lot I think we need to discuss.”
Electric.
“Yes, sir.”
‘Boy, let me know if this is careless, I (Let me know)
Could be torn between two roads that I just can't decide (Just can't decide)
Which one is leading me to hell or paradise? (Oh)
Baby, I can't hurt you, sure, but I’m the jealous type
I’m the jealous type
Oh, I'm jealous, baby, yeah, I'm jealous
Oh, I'm jealous, baby, I'm the jealous type
Oh, I'm jealous, baby, yeah, I'm jealous
Oh, I'm jealous, baby, I'm the jealous type’