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Wally needed a good fuck.
He was getting restless about it. Not that he didn’t mind Noxy. Bloke was a peach in bed, sweet as can be. And it was nice to have that. He got to see a towering, terrifying monster of a man quietly slip into the bedroom in a fuzzy bathrobe just about every other night. Wouldn’t replace it for the world, really.
But sometimes, hell, a lot of times, he thought about what it’d be like if that big bastard threw him down and fucked his brains out. He wasn’t looking to be coddled for the rest of his life. Usually, he’d find someone to scratch that itch. Didn’t seem half as easy to find someone off Salvo that’d be down for a quick, rough root. He’d agreed not to sleep around, anyway. Wasn’t his game to go behind his partner’s back. Nor did Alexander want to invite anyone to bed with them. Besides, when he got his hands on a proper gem like Nox he wasn’t about to share.
At first, he didn’t really know how best to bring it up. He’d swapped with Alexander more than once. It was a little bit frustrating. He’d have to wait for Alexander to be satisfied with prep. Still cold and clinical, but so, so very thorough. Bloody annoying, is what it was. He thought ol’ Noxy might be doing it on purpose to get a rise out of him, but it seemed more like that was what he knew and liked to do.
Or maybe he was embarrassed of what folks might say if they needed to rush to the emergency room.
Walter ran his thumb over the handle of his mug. It was early, earlier than he liked to be up. Nox had made a pot of coffee and run out on some errand or another. Likely off to his stuffy lab for some experiment. Previous night had been good and sweet, as usual. Wasn’t even sore from it. Almost made him feel guilty for having a sook over it. Bloke was a hell of a good cuddler.
He’d just expected something more from someone like Alexander. He sounded like he bloody well enjoyed making folks suffer. That made him wonder what made it different when they got to bed. Hell, outside of the bedroom he’d been punched, smacked, slapped, and snapped at a dozen different ways. It was surprising how fast he shed that off to be more of a sweetheart once they were naked and under the sheets.
What Wally needed to do, he reckoned, was sort out a way to ask for it. Not just by asking, but by asking for it. Make Noxy so bloody pissed off that he lashed out a bit. Might very well get him going the way that Walter needed him to. Question was how to do that without it being a proper bats thing to do. He didn’t want to do something that’d genuinely upset the bastard. Last time they had a kafuffle it’d ended with Alexander giving him the bloody cold shoulder for a week.
So whatever it was, it needed to be enough to get him mad, but not enough to have him go berko. Walter sipped at his cuppa, humming to himself. He could think of a few ways. Easiest way might be talking shite. Ol’ Noxy had a hell of an ego on him. Deserved, if you asked Wally, but it was a hell of an ego. Fragile, too, he didn’t much like anyone questioning him on how great he was. Seemed obvious, then. Tease him a bit, not too much, but enough that he’d get that fury in his eyes that made him lash out.
Walter finished off his cuppa, then headed out. Might as well bother Nox at his lab. Hell, might be he was wrong and it’d be as easy as asking the bloke. He could smack himself for not doing that sooner. Too much time off Salvo dealing with folks who kept shite to themselves. Being blunt about it was the fastest bloody way to get his answer.
It was a short enough trip, which didn’t give him a lot of time to think about how to get under Alexander’s skin. He hated pre-planning. Usually he’d dive right in and get what he wanted. But hell, he didn’t feel like mucking things up with the bloke. Took long enough to get this far with him. Alright mate, what’s the plan then?
He could think of more than a few insults he could hurl at Noxy. Some of them would be low as hell. He put those off the table. Just gotta get him pissed off. Don’t wanna end up sleeping on the couch. Or me flat. Walter wasn’t about to get thrown back to square one over a root. Reckon it won’t be hard. Hell, sometimes he gets pissed if I’m having a bit of a yabber. Question is how to turn that to me favor.
He didn’t bother knocking. Hell, Nox gave him a spare keycard, he ought to know that Walter would waltz in whenever he pleased. Hadn’t been yelled at yet, at least. Once he was inside, he threw any attempt at a plan out the window. No point in fussing. Either he’d get what he wanted, or he’d have to deal with it being off the bloody table.
Really hope it isn’t.
Walter started poking around in the various rooms, keeping his eye out for any signs of activity. Alexander had a habit of being very bloody still sometimes, and more than once Walter had completely missed the bloke because he’d looked like some equipment hanging on a wall. Got stuck in his head often, he reckoned, and when that happened he sat dead still until he concluded whatever thought gripped him.
Thankfully, he wasn’t a nightmare to find. He was sat at the desk in his office, hand on his forehead, reviewing his notes. Had a pair of reading glasses on. It wasn’t often that he wore them. Walter wished he’d wear them more often, hell of a look on the big guy.
“Howdy, howdy.” Walter leaned against the doorframe to the office, grinning. No response. Well, a tiny twitch of one of his eyebrows. Reckon that was good enough. “Up for a root, mate?”
Alexander’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes flicking up from his paperwork to give Walter a hell of a pointed stare. “It is nine thirty-seven in the morning, Fitzroy.” He broke eye contact to resume his reading. “Suffice to say that I have important research to conduct.”
Not quite a no, then. Walter waggled his eyebrows. “Yeah, nah. Mate, plenty of the day left to go. Reckon you won’t miss out on the time.”
No response. He licked his teeth. Change of tactic then, ay?
“What, can’t keep up with me?” He saw a tiny twitch in one of Nox’s fingers. “Can’t say I blame ya. That’s Salvo quality, mate. Reckon you Syndicate blokes can barely keep up.” Walter’s grin broadened. “Heard they’ve got pills for that.”
“Your vulgarity is noted.” Alexander’s voice carried that faint growl of irritation that Walter’d grown plenty used to. But he didn’t push back, thumbing through his paperwork as if he was still alone.
Walter stepped into the office, letting his hands settle on the desk. “Hell, I didn’t hit close to home, did I?” He tried to hide his grin, but knew that was good and pointless. Besides, it wasn’t like Noxy was looking at him. “No worries.” This one’s a bit of a risk. “That why you lost in that last match?”
Alexander let his fists bang against the desk with how fast he lowered the papers, glaring up at the Salvonian. “You are testing the limits of my patience, Fitzroy.” He let go of the documents, then removed his reading glasses. “What do you want.”
Not a question. “I told ya.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, wiggling his hips in a way more befitting of a man easily half his age. “I’m looking for a fuck, mate. You wanna have a go?”
“You are insufferable.” Alexander leaned back, scowling at him. “Or perhaps insatiable.” He glanced down at his work, eyes narrowing. “I suppose that I could return to the apartment for a few hours.”
Bloody hell. It was a victory, but not the right one. He had a funny feeling that Noxy wanted him back there for a tender, gentle root that’d do about as good at scratching an itch as a feather would. “Nah.” Walter leaned forward. “Mate, I’m looking to get me brains fucked out. None of that gentle shite.”
Alexander’s lip curled. “We are not feral animals, Fitzroy.” He seemed to appraise Walter for a moment. “Or at least, I am not one. There is no function to such behavior in the bedroom.”
“No function to- mate, what bloody function does a cock up the arse have?” Walter was as flabbergasted as Alexander was irritated. “It’s about having fun, ay?” He could see that Nox was getting annoyed with him more than usual. “Are you telling me that Alexander bloody Nox is a softie?”
He didn’t get an answer, but he could see Nox was getting pissed. That gave him an idea. Walter vaulted over the desk, landing himself squarely on Alexander’s lap. Physics wasn’t his strong point. Momentum led to the chair toppling backwards, landing Nox on his back with a shocked grunt and a randy Salvonian on top of him.
And, most importantly, an expensive office chair that was snapped at the base.
Walter barely had a moment to react before a flash of genuine anger lit up Alexander’s eyes. The fist to his face was a new one. Bloke could hit hard when he wanted to. Walter reeled back, scrambling to retaliate. A spot of biffo wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but he wasn’t about to back down from a challenge.
But despite landing on top of Alexander, he didn’t have the upper hand. That unexpected smack threw him off his game, and before long his arms were jammed over his head. Walter’s metal arm creaked, a cocky smirk on his face. Maybe old Noxy would’ve had him dead to rights if it weren’t for that.
Alexander sneered at him, mouth set in a thin line and eyes narrow. He could taste copper, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was from his teeth slicing his tongue, a bloodied nose, or from the little cut his metal fist had left on Nox’s cheek. Underhanded of ya, mate. He grinned nonetheless, daring the bloke to keep going. Fights could be just as bloody fun.
Walter felt something shift in his arm and realized that Alexander had been fumbling for the locking mechanism. That was proper underhanded. His eye widened as his metal arm flopped uselessly at his side, the connection severed.
He could feel his stomach drop as Alexander’s lips curled into a smirk. Might be this was about to get a spot unfair.
When Alexander pulled back, there was a truly wild look in his brilliant eyes. He pulled his shirt off, only to pause as he stared down at Walter. That gave Walter the idea that should strip as well. Bit of a struggle with his arm off. Not that ol’ Wally would ever admit to struggling with it. Just a part of his routine, that’s all.
Hands were on him in an instant, carelessly tossing his vest aside. “Cheers.” Walter licked the blood off of his teeth, grinning. But Alexander wasn’t done. He pulled the undershirt, one of the few ones Walter had that wasn’t stained, up. Walter lifted his arm to help get it off, never once breaking eye contact.
And then Alexander grabbed his arm and flipped him.
That knocked the wind out of Walter. Hell of a show of strength. He could hear coughing behind him, and it was enough for him to relax. Bloke was handling him good and rough, but that cough of his could easily ruin things. He listened as the fit passed, and then the pressure of those hands returned.
His shirt was being put back on, which was a bit bloody weird. This time, his arm was kept flush against his back, pinned under the shirt. Not exactly a tight bind, but it would be a bit tricky to deal with.
Walter felt his belt being tugged at. He glanced back, finding some amusement in those expressive eyes. “Like the view, mate?” He wriggled his arse for emphasis, laughing at the look he got in return.
“I ought to gag you.” Alexander couldn’t hide that he was enjoying himself. There was an angry edge to his voice, but it was not winning out. The younger man finally tugged Walter’s belt loose. “Consider yourself fortunate that I wish to hear you scream.”
Game bloody on, mate. He half wondered if he should exaggerate it for ol’ Noxy. Stroking that ego of his almost always led to a good time. Walter hoped that he wouldn’t need to.
Walter’s ears strained as he listened to Nox shuffling behind him. He could hear leather running against fabric. Righto, that’d be his belt. That had little trouble looping around him, comfortably finding purchase without completely cutting off circulation to his hand.
Once Alexander managed to get it to hook, Walter knew he was well and truly stuck. There was no bloody way he was getting that off without getting at his knife. That sent a thrill down his spine, turning his head more to look Nox in the eye.
Alexander was stripping him, leaving him with only his shirt and Nox’s belt to cover up. Not that Walter felt any shame in it. He watched Alexander fumble around in his discarded vest’s pockets until he fetched a bottle of lube.
Now was the real test.
Walter could see the tiniest bit of hesitation in how Alexander was moving. His hands were gently rubbing at Walter’s thighs. He really is shy about being a bit rough, isn’t he? Walter smiled, letting his eye drift over to the broken chair. Well, reckon I can fix that. “Don’t forget about that chair, mate.”
He only got silence in response. Silence, and both of those hands freezing. Both hands slid off of him, leaving him with a faint chill at the loss of their warmth. Walter stared up at him, watching his expression grow worryingly impassive. Reminded him a bit of how the bloke looked on the battlefield.
The palm of Alexander’s hand smacked against his rear with enough force to make him jerk forward. Hell, that was a surprise. Walter’s mouth worked on a taunt that didn’t get a chance to form before the next slap struck him. And the next. Each one was a fresh sting, and he had to admit it was bloody weird how much of a turn-on it was when he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been spanked.
That stinging pain was growing more than a little uncomfortable, his skin feeling heated. He had to look away, feeling tears pricking at his eye. Alexander seemed to be a man possessed now, maybe taking out a whole hell of a lot more frustration than what he might be feeling towards Walter. His other hand was gripping Walter’s thigh hard enough to bruise, holding him firmly in place for every slap.
When that finally ended, his arse felt well and truly hot. Walter sagged, letting out a shaking breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He could hear Alexander distantly coughing. A moment for him to catch his breath, then. He squirmed against his impromptu restraint, finally turning his head to look back at Alexander again.
Instead, one of Nox’s hands grabbed the side of his head and pushed it down, leaving him well and truly blind. He could only catch a thin sliver of the room, his eye patch facing upward. That brought another thrill and the tiniest little moan from him. That noise must’ve startled both of them as Alexander’s grip on his head loosened for a moment. Bloody hell, guess we’re both learning today, mate.
He jerked forward when he felt a slick finger press into him. Alexander grunted, apparently annoyed that he’d moved at all. He shifted around, pressing his knees into Walter’s legs. It felt like he was pinned under a bloody boulder. Walter could barely move his hips, but they still hitched in surprise at every slickened thrust of that digit.
Alexander didn’t seem to be in that much of a rush, but every additional finger carried a bit of a frenzy to it. Too fast at the start, drawing out hisses and gasps from Walter, but then lingering long enough for him to whine and try to move. Bloody torture in its own way. He could feel Alexander looming over him, breathing rough and ragged against his neck. Close, but purposefully avoiding any contact besides the sharpness of his knees, his hand on Walter’s head, and his fingers.
A fourth finger made him tense. That was a bit much for him. But it was forcing its way in, and with it came a strangled little gasp from the back of his throat. His eye was wide, his mouth hanging open. When was the last time he’d felt a proper burning stretch like that? Walter’s reaction was apparently what Nox had wanted, as a deep, rich chuckle emanated from behind him.
Just as quickly, everything was gone. Both hands, both knees. Walter remained still, his breathing heavier than he thought it’d be. A bloody embarrassing whine had come from him. He knew it, Nox knew it. “Fuck me.” He practically hissed it out, his accent thick. Alexander hardly seemed moved by it.
“C’mon, mate. You can’t leave me hanging like that. I know you’ve gone crook, but this ain’t how to deal with it.” Walter knew he didn’t have much say in it. Hell, that would be a proper good punishment, wouldn’t it? He squirmed, only half aware of his cock leaking on the floor. Did he get hard from getting his arse slapped, or from near about getting fisted? He wasn’t sure.
Alexander was on him again, which was relief enough for him to let out an undignified sob. His full weight bore down on him, teeth nipping at his ear. “You almost talk as much as Witt. It is not endearing, Fitzroy.” His hands grabbed at Walter’s hips, yanking his arse up off the ground. A quick smack drew a yelp out of him, reminding him just how red and sore his rear was. “But this is a good look for you.”
Before he could articulate a proper comeback, Alexander’s hips slammed against his own. The force of the thrust knocked the wind out of him, the younger man’s thick cock narrowly missing its mark and instead grinding against his own erection. If that was the pace being promised to him, then Walter wasn’t sure if he’d be walking straight for the next matchup.
Not that he was about to complain.
But it seemed like Noxy was relenting at least a little. He ground against Walter for a moment, savoring the frustrated groan that came from the Salvonian. He drew his hips back, but the more languid thrust also missed. Walter was starting to get the feeling these weren’t bloody misses.
“C’mon, Noxy, fuck me already.” Walter huffed, squirming under that firm grip. “Did you forget how already?” He glanced back, a challenge in his eye. “It ain’t been that long, mate.”
Alexander stopped moving completely. The smug look on his mug told Walter all he needed to know.
“Fuck me. ” He nearly growled it, trying to grind his hips back. Alexander’s grip was bruising, keeping him from moving an inch. “Mate, please, for fuck’s sake!” Walter was really wishing his arm wasn’t stuck behind his back. He couldn’t even touch himself to try and get some relief, and his partner seemed in no bloody rush.
Walter’s head gently thumped onto the floor, huffing and whining. He could feel Nox’s dick throbbing against him. He started to complain once more, only for Alexander to abruptly jam practically half of his cock into the Salvonian. That tore a proper shout out of him, eye wide at the intrusion.
Alexander snickered in his ear, tugging hard enough on his hips to yank him backward and impale him on the rest of it. He seemed to be enjoying himself, setting a pace that lacked any proper rhyme or reason. Slow and deep, fast and shallow, halting. Sometimes he would pull out entirely and leave Walter begging for more.
“You truly are a harlot, Fitzroy.” His voice was impassive, a far fucking cry from where Walter was. The older man could do nothing but take it, drooling at every punishing stab from Alexander’s dick. “I want it to be abundantly clear to the others that this is the truth.” He emphasized that with a particularly brutal thrust, smirking at how loudly Walter moaned underneath him.
Walter felt a hand close around his throat, suddenly yanking him upright. He wheezed in surprise at the new angle, his eye wide as he was pressed flush against Alexander. Nox’s other hand closed around his dick, stroking him in time with every smack of his hips. Walter moaned, an illicit thrill running down his spine at the way in which Alexander’s grip tightened on his throat. Not enough to cut off his airflow, but enough for him to bloody well know that he was at the younger man’s mercy.
Something about that had him randier than he’d been in a good many years.
He was almost embarrassed to find himself reaching his climax. Walter usually had the stamina for this sort of thing, especially with Nox’s lungs putting him at a solid disadvantage. But now damn near every thrust was hitting his prostate, and his throat was hoarse from yelling. Bloody lucky the lab was well and truly isolated, he couldn’t imagine what he sounded like.
When he hit his peak, there was a moment when his vision went dark. Nox was squeezing down hard enough to stop him from breathing, slamming into him like a man possessed. He faintly heard Alexander snarl something that could be construed as “mine” before bottoming out inside of him.
Walter sagged against the younger man, gasping for breath as soon as the hand on his throat loosened enough to let him. The other hand was still stroking his dick, dragging half-sobbed moans from him as his hips twitched and jerked. He could hear how ragged Alexander’s breathing was, the occasional cough disrupting it, harsh in his ear.
“You are replacing my chair.” Alexander sounded slightly irritated. Bloke probably looked over and saw the broken pieces again. “That chair cost significantly more than you could ever know. I needed one that was custom built.”
He sighed, letting Alexander drone on in his ear. He should’ve known he wasn’t about to get away without an earful over it. “Mate.” Walter finally spoke, interrupting the lengthy rambling about the importance of lumbar support. “I’ll replace it, no worries.”
Alexander seemed to hesitate, their combined heavy breathing the only sound in the room. His hands moved to undo the belt, carefully pulling Walter’s top off not long after. Walter’s arm fell at his side, sore as hell from being stuck in one position for that long. He could feel Alexander shifting to sit back against his desk, pulling him along for the ride.
“...Do you think that you will be able to walk?” Ol’ Noxy sounded bloody timid. Hell, it made Walter wonder if his voice sounded even worse than he thought it did. He wasn’t about to complain, not when the bloke was rubbing at his arm.
“Yeah, strewth.” Walter laughed, glancing up at Alexander. His hair was disheveled, but those bloody eyes. Intense and full of enough love that it knocked the wind right out of him. “...But give me a minny, ay?”