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You’re both awful. You deserve each other.
The yacht isn’t back the morning after Robert has the… talk. It doesn’t come off well. Now he’s sure that the new neighbour has already snitched to Joseph about his concerns.
Joseph’s a bad guy, and I don’t want him around you.
It’s the truth, and as Joseph says, lying is a sin. So it’s only fair that Robert would make their new neighbour, a man Robert has come to respect, has come to like, that Joseph isn’t the loyal, christian, accepting man he likes to come off as.
Joseph’s perfect little cardigan is probably hiding a pair of fucking devil’s wings. It wouldn’t surprise him, at this point. Or a little black book listing the people who’ve sold their soul to him. Those are not box-mix brownies at the bake sales. No way.
Robert shoots off a text to Mary as the yacht arrives back at shore, backing off and turning around to seem less conspicuous. Not that Joseph is anything but perceptive. She’s already out the house, probably, but it doesn’t hurt to make sure.
The early morning light reflects on the water and Joseph’s bright locks, and Robert watches as he helps his new lover off the boat, the both of them soft around the edges from wine and pleasure. Robert puts his phone in his pocket and leans against a tree, watching as Joseph puts on a warm smile.
The way he holds the other man makes Robert grit his teeth, fiddle with his knife in his pocket and take a hard drag off his cigarette.
Joseph kisses like he’s holding something fragile, like shaping an artwork. His fingers stroke against skin like velvet, and Robert bristles as he remembers what those hands can actually do.
He stumps the cigarette and flicks it on the ground, turning on his heel towards his truck. Behind him Joseph sends his new pet project off, before he straightens his back to look towards where Robert is walking.
He follows.
Robert lets himself be pressed against the truck, feels Joseph’s breath on his neck as he pins him. His eyes are out of that bright gleam, replaced with something playful, something sinister. Robert scowls hard, and Joseph giggles.
He doesn’t know why he doesn’t struggle against it.
“Is everything okay between us, Rob? You’re making people worry. I thought we were good.” Robert glares harder. Joseph refuses to relent. He licks his lips, and his breath is hot on Robert’s neck as he presses a kiss against his skin. Robert squirms, unwilling. Joseph glances up, suddenly serious.
“Get in the car, pumpkin.”
“Fuck you.”
He gets in the car.
There’s a second where Robert just clutches the wheel, as Joseph steps into the car with that same smile, mischievous. Robert doesn’t get the key in the ignition before Joseph grabs his neck, crashing them together in a kiss that is so, so much more Joseph.
Robert grabs at Joseph’s stupid poloshirt, hoping in vain that it’ll somehow rip under his fingers. Joseph grins at the desperation. He bites down on Robert’s lip, and the moan he lets out is not something he ever wants to remember tomorrow. Still, he doesn’t think Joseph will ever let him forget. Joseph shows an athleticism very unfit for a dad as he climbs onto his lap, fitting himself nicely between Robert and the wheel. Not that it’s the first time he’s pulled that stunt. It just gets a little bit more cocky and a little bit less charming each time. There’s lips on his again, and Joseph reaches down between his shirt to let his hand skirt up his side, causing Robert to shiver and lean his head against his shoulder.
“I can’t—” Joseph bites at his earlobe, teasing a nipple and humming questioningly. “I can’t fucking drive with you all over me.”
Joseph leans back, disappointed.
“That sounds like a challenge, but I’m guessing you’re not gonna be any fun.”
“Get off.” Joseph grins, grinding down on Robert to force a groan out of him.
“With pleasure,” he teases, but he does get off, back into the seat beside him. He makes himself comfortable as Robert starts the car, pretending not to notice Joseph’s look boring into him.
This wasn’t what he’d signed up for when he’d picked up Joseph that first night. A pretty little youth minister with a little wild in him, Robert was willing to give that ride a try. He hadn’t expected the strong hands or the forceful grip on his hair, the biting and scratching and blood on his sheets as Joseph marked him thoroughly.
He hadn’t imagined it to happen again, either. But something about Joseph had him coming back, had him going from competing to begging and from pinning him to the bed to letting himself get lost in Joseph’s mutterings and nails dragging down his body.
He thinks about Mary, and bile rises to his throat. He forces it back down with a glance to his side, watching Joseph study him with eager eyes. Mary is much, much better off without him. Robert is just throwing a spanner in the works to speed up the process. Mary is still talking to him, and she’s a clever girl. She knows what’s was going on. She doesn’t mind, he tells himself. She doesn’t mind.
Parking in the garage of his own home Robert feels like he’s hiding a fugitive, as Joseph gets out and corners him to suck and bite at his skin even before they enter the house. Robert peels him off with as little remorse as possible, though he does pull at his shirt to get him into the house. Joseph notices. Robert doesn’t like the smirk on his face. Or, he doesn’t want to, at the very least. So he kisses it off of him.
Joseph suddenly walks ahead, pulling Robert by the belt buckle down the hallway towards his room, careful to nudge Betsy out and shut the door, though Robert does get some pause as Joseph bends down to pet the little gal softly, cooing. For a second he’s the same man as he was on the yacht, and Robert can’t help but wonder if he’s seriously pretending for a dog.
It’s not unthinkable.
When they’re in the room it doesn’t take long for Joseph to push Robert onto the bed, but he’s careful. Not like a lover. Like a predator, using a soft hand to grab Robert by the jaw.
“Are you gonna be good, sweet pea?”
Robert stiffens, challenging. Joseph’s jaw slacks slightly, lazily, and his hand strays back towards his neck. He twines his fingers into his hair. Then he pulls. Hard.
“Are you gonna be good?”
Robert swallows hard, closing his eyes. He briefly considers telling Joseph to fuck off. That would not go over well.
“Fine,” he says, and his voice doesn’t waver as audibly as it might’ve. That’s a victory.
“Good boy. Safeword?” Robert stares off to a spot behind Joseph for a bit, thinking.
“Mothman.” Joseph loses the smile immediately.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Joseph keeps his straight face for all of a good three seconds. Then he’s dropping Robert’s hair and leaning against him, shaking. With laughter. Unreserved and uncensored laughter.
“I— I did. I just—” He’s trying to catch his breath. It isn’t working. He wipes a tear from his eye. “No, yeah, that works. That works really fucking well.” Robert’s stifling his own smile, now. He breathes out through his nose, unable to keep it up for very long.
“Shut the fuck up.” Joseph eyes Robert from where he’s still leaning against him, giggling helplessly. He finally stands up proper, looking Robert over.
“Clothes off, sweetheart.” Robert knows when to listen and not. He knows when Joseph wants him to obey, to melt in his arms and follow his lead.
“Ask nicely.” The pull on his hair is all the more satisfying when he gets to see Joseph’s eyes cool dangerously.
“Off.” Robert reaches for his shirt, and Joseph steps away, satisfied. Robert gets his shirt off in time to see Joseph walk across the messy room, towards the wardrobe in the corner.
“I’m not playing dress up with you.” Joseph stills where he’s browsing through Robert’s ‘finer’ outfits. Turning to smile at him.
“Don’t give me ideas, honey,” he teases, though Robert can hear the contemplation in his voice. Instead, Joseph retrieves a tie from the starving collection that Robert owns, a softer, more expensive one.
“Bed, stomach down, okay?” Robert obeys only out of morbid curiosity, and he kicks his pants off as he scoots up the bed. He doesn’t notice Joseph smiling endearingly at the action, putting a hand on his hip as he watches Robert make himself comfortable. He leans his head on his arms. That just won’t do. Robert feels Joseph pulls his arms back and of course that’s what the tie is for. He struggles as Joseph puts his arms together, more like some childish act of rebellion than anything, and Joseph does not hesitate as he slaps a free hand against Robert’s ass. Robert freezes up, choking on a sound he really, really would prefer never got out. Joseph little huff of amusement is so condescending. Robert wants to punch him.
But Joseph is really good at knots. Within very little time his arms are tied securely behind his back, with a knot that is clearly supposed to keep boats fastened, not just men. It works rather well. A bit too well. Robert wriggles protestingly. Doesn’t do shit. He’s not surprised.
“And no one questions why the father of four with a wife knows knots, so long as he has a boat. Bit of a life-hack, I would say.”
“Oh my God, shut up, you’ve never used the word life-hack in your life.”
“I can gag your mouth with one of your ties, too. That’s a life-hack as well.” Robert shuts up. He doesn’t want to sign away his right to complain just yet. Joseph notes his silence.
“Good choice.” Joseph bends down to kiss at Robert’s shoulder blade, nipping and biting at the skin, leaving red little marks across his skin as he moves down to the small of his back. Robert squirms despite himself, burying his feet against the sheets as Joseph slides his hands down his back.
“Turn around for me?” Robert obeys reluctantly, and with Joseph’s help flips onto his stomach, with only little resistance. Joseph’s hands find his cock immediately, and Robert sighs helplessly as Joseph leans up to meet his eyes.
“Didn’t you think I’d treat you?” He kisses Robert softly, savoring the taste of his lips before he moves back down, stroking him with a slow rhythm. Robert’s composure falters slightly as Joseph kisses down his hip, and it nearly cracks when he looks back up at him with what is eyes of pure sin. A cool youth minister, alright. There’s nothing godly about Joseph right now. He slides his lips along the shaft, still looking provocatively up at Joseph. He plays with the head of his cock, smiling like a fox. This man will drag him down to hell, and Robert isn’t even sure if he minds, at this point. Joseph tongues the slit of his cock, suddenly focused, though his eyes flicker up a moment later to meet Robert’s gaze, determined.
His mouth sinks down onto his cock. Robert sees the fucking pearly gates for a second.
He realizes suddenly why Joseph tied his arms so tight. He tries to sit up, to reach for Joseph, to get a hand in his hair and to touch him and to just hold him, but Joseph’s tongue teases his dick as he smiles at him, and Robert knows that Joseph knows that he’s fucked.
It’s not the worst way to die, all things considered.
“Joseph…” he whispers, and somehow Joseph has enough focus in him to raise a brow, cocky. The fucking bastard. Joseph still has a mouth full of cock as he stares questioningly at Robert, and it should be gross but it really isn’t, and Robert groans helplessly as Joseph hums.
“Stop teasing.”
Joseph stares for a bit. Then he sinks all the way down to the hair again. It’s not what Robert meant, but him seeing stars kind of makes up for it. Kind of. Joseph hums around his dick again, and Robert’s struggling against the ties like they’ve offended him personally, trying and failing to reach for Joseph.
“Joseph,” he moans, and Joseph’s eyes grow big with satisfaction, like a cat. He slides off his dick long enough to talk.
“Ask nicely.” And Robert knows he’s echoing him like the sadistic fuck he is. He closes his eyes as Joseph goes back to jerking him off, smiling cheekily. Robert would protest if Joseph didn’t take that moment to suck at the tip. Who taught Joseph to suck dick like this? Robert doesn’t want to know.
“Joseph,” Joseph hums again, purposefully, and Robert curls around him looking for purchase.
“Please,” he murmurs. Joseph stills, surprised, and finally stops, sliding off. He crawls up to kiss Robert again, and he tastes himself on Joseph’s tongue. It doesn’t taste bad when he gets to kiss Joseph. Joseph reaches over to the bedside drawer, rummaging around until he finds the bottle he’s looking for. He sits up, straddling Robert as he examines the contents.
“You’ve been busy.” Robert can see Joseph’s eyes gloss over with something dangerous.
“A little bit.”
Joseph’s hand moves across his chest, up to his neck. He wraps a hand around Robert’s throat. Not dangerously, but tight enough for Robert to lose breath. He leans down.
“That’s a bit whorish, don’t you think?” Robert heaves for breath to answer.
“That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
Joseph’s grip tightens. Robert struggles against the restraints. Joseph looks him over, something wild coloring his face.
“Need your safeword?”
Robert shakes his head fervently. Joseph’s smile is sinister.
“Good.”
Joseph pulls no punches as he flips Robert onto his stomach again, pulling his legs out and kicking them apart to put his ass on display. Robert tries to situate himself better, but Joseph forces his head against the mattress, tsking him like a disobedient animal. Robert clenches his teeth.
The pop of the bottle cap opening is all the warning Robert gets before cold fluid drips onto his back as Joseph thankfully has the good grace to coat his fingers liberally in lube. He twitches as it hits his skin, and is punished with another slap.
Making Joseph mad is always the best part of their endeavours.
Two fingers are shoved unceremoniously into him, and Robert groans, muffling the sound into the pillow. On a good day Joseph would tell him to voice himself, now he ignores him as he scissors him open, no patience or care in his movements. Robert doesn’t want it any other way.
The pain is more of a plus than a burden, and he chokes on another sound as Joseph adds a third finger. It’s impatient and crude, but still Joseph takes the time to not do anything that could hurt Robert too bad, now. He pumps his fingers surgically, occasionally grazing against the spot that makes Robert bury himself into his pillow, his fingers clenching and unclenching tirelessly as he tries to budge the knots again.
“You know, sweetie, it doesn’t pay to irritate me like this. I don’t like sharing, you know.”
He knows. God, he knows. He bites into the pillow, victorious.
Joseph sinks into him in one motion, and Robert has never felt quite so fulfilled. It stretches him beautifully, and he nearly whines as Joseph sinks to the hilt.
Joseph’s speed is already relentless, fast and hard and so impossibly good. His feet beg for purchase on the sheets, as Joseph’s nails dig into his hips, drawing blood as they bury themselves into his skin. He can’t push back, he can’t grasp, he can’t do anything, and it’s Joseph’s entire plan. He bites down on Robert’s shoulder, and Robert moans openly, helplessly, thinks that God, this is why I can’t quit. This is why he has a key to my fucking door. This is why he still has me around his finger.
He’s already so close to coming, and Joseph knows, knows him far too well, because he grasps Robert’s cock and stops him, keeps him rooted firmly on the edge like torture, like he wants nothing less than to give Robert what he wants. Joseph’s stamina is painful, and he keeps going, keeps pounding till Robert sees stars and his eyes are filling with tears, biting and running his free nails down his back, marking him irredeemably. Robert loves it, even as he sobs into the pillow and begs for his release, shameless.
“J-Joseph, don’t do this, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” Joseph’s rhythm stutters just a bit, and he bites down extra hard again, getting off on the submission.
“Who do you belong to, sweetheart?”
Robert chokes on his answer as Joseph pulls him up by the hair to sink his teeth into his throat.
“You, it’s you— It’s always going to be you, please let me-”
“Wanna come for me, baby?” Robert nods helplessly, moaning like some cheap whore as Joseph nearly splits him open, wicked smile burning marks into his skin like a brand.
“Please, please, I—”
“Go ahead,” Joseph whispers, and it’s all it takes for Robert to sob, to come all over the sheets like a teen, though it brings him comfort that Joseph is right behind him, raising blood to his skin as he bites down, filling him up like he owns him. Like? He does.
Robert collapses against the sheet, onto his own come, which isn’t preferable, but he really doesn’t care. Joseph bends over him, burying his face in Robert’s neck. There’s blood and sweat and tears on the sheets, and Robert still isn’t done crying. Joseph nuzzles into him, sweetly, raising a hand to wipe at the tears with a thumb.
“Hardly expected that,” he murmurs, chuckling under his breath. Robert smacks his shoulder. Joseph rolls over the edge to grab the pack of cigarettes he knows Robert keeps there. Robert doesn’t dwell on that. He lights one, putting it to his lips and taking a healthy drag. Rather, an unhealthy one. Don’t smoke, kids.
“You don’t smoke, Christiansen.” Joseph smiles.
“And you don’t normally let people fuck you. It’s opposite day,” he says as he straddles him. Fair enough. Robert waves a lazy finger as Joseph takes a drag, and Joseph smiles as he leans down, touching Robert’s open lips with his own as he exhales. Robert takes in the smoke with a sigh, kissing Joseph while the smoke is still rising between them. Joseph only pulls away to take another drag. In the now afternoon light, Joseph looks like heaven and hell wrapped in a package, promising Robert salvation and damnation with the smoke seeping through his lips.
“Are you mine, Robert?” Robert stills the fingers that have been rubbing circles into Joseph’s hips.
“What?”
Joseph leans down, blowing more smoke into his face.
“Lying is a sin, sweetie. Do you belong to me?” Robert doesn’t know what does it, if it’s the locks falling into Joseph’s face, his bright eyes or trusting little smile.
“Yes.” The cigarette is burning down to the hilt.
“Want to prove it?” They both eye the cigarette, Robert more warily. He swallows, and Joseph looks like he’s getting disappointed, like he was hoping Robert would play along-
Robert nods daringly. Joseph lights up like a firework, and buries the cigarette in Robert’s side.
It doesn’t sting at first, but when his nerves catch up to him he hisses like the smoke is going to come billowing from his mouth through the wound. Joseph hushes him, kisses his temple softly even has he rubs the butt of the cigarette into his skin. It burns so bad. Robert lets it happen, hides his face in Joseph’s neck like he’s ashamed.
“Good boy,” he whispers, and in the afterglow Robert can do nothing but shiver at that, some sick sense of pride welling up in him.
They fall asleep in the quiet of the afternoon, and Robert wakes up to find Joseph has conveniently let himself out. On the way out he fed Betsy and cleaned up the house a bit. Because of course he can’t break Robert without making sure he proves he’s still the lovely, christian, suburban dad of four.
You’re both awful. You deserve each other.
Robert realizes all too late who he was actually talking about.