Archive of Our Own

Maybe it was a bad idea to get himself in this situation.

Maybe it was a bad idea to bring the guy with a noticeable—  because who could ever miss the obvious, unendingly endearing, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked stares between shifts—  crush on him over to his shitty, sparse apartment under the guise of sharing a drink and "getting to know each other". 

Maybe it was absolutely fucked how desperately he wanted his hands on Z-Team's very own Waterboy— Herman, as the man had so graciously introduced himself through half-aborted sentences and nervous jabbering. 

How desperately he wanted those spindly, damp fingertips running through his hair or gripping into the meat of his hips. Wanted to see just how far down that pink blush went whenever Robert stared back for long enough to get Herman to realize that he was caught watching him in the bullpen. Wanted to know if he made noises even prettier than shy, high pitched laughter in response to Robert's shitass jokes, or the squeaks he emitted when Robert allowed himself a gentle Good job, Waterboy over the comms after a well-completed dispatch. 

He was so going to get fired for this. And it'd be so worth it.

Hard to think about HR discovering his plans, though, when Herman is curled up on the opposite side of his couch cradling a plastic cup of rum with simply too much ice in it. Robert really needed to stop staring at those hands, pale fingertips idly running up and down the bumps at the top of the solo cup, lifting to take a sip only to lick the excess liquor off his bottom lip so innocently and unaware that Robert was surely going to Hell for the half-chub he was starting to sport in his stupid threadbare sweatpants. 

Oh, that was the worst part. Robert wasn't in his SDN uniform, and Herman wasn't in his hero suit. Instead, Robert had on years-old sweatpants and a pull-over sweater he didn't remember owning until scrounging through the dregs of his closet for something that didn't make him look like a total bum. He didn't know if he completed his mission, but he stopped caring fast after he'd opened his apartment door and found out that Herman had clothes other than the bodysuit he wore to work every day. No, Herman showed up in a skintight wet suit that, under an oversized band t-shirt and cargo shorts, looked normal— flattering, even. Flattering enough that Robert had nearly forgotten to greet the man as he shuffled in, apologizing for his own mere existence until Robert's brain had caught up enough to usher Herman inside with the promise of a drink and a forced out, "What's that band? Never heard of it before."

So now here he was, lukewarm beer in hand, belatedly listening to Herman talk about whatever band matched the logo on his shirt. 

"Shit, sorry, could you repeat that? Zoned out a little," He pushed himself back into reality, swallowing down another gulp of the horribly cheap beer he'd gotten the night before. Whatever, he'd take disgusting beer if it meant that he could afford to get Herman some actually good rum instead of the dubious stuff the Z-Team forced him to drink whenever they'd cajole him into joining at the Sardine. 

Herman blinked at him, his words faltering for a second. "O-Oh! Um, I just-" He cleared his throat, and Robert was absolutely not looking at the way his Adam's apple bobbed with the following swallow. "I was just saying the Che— the band, it's— it's called Cheem. The... Yeah. It's good. They, uh, there's- I think the next tour is soon, and I wanted- I will- go to see them. Eventually. Hopefully." Herman stopped his rambling with another deep draw of his drink, looking anywhere but Robert as he trailed off, as if embarrassed for having a taste in music. 

"Uh huh... And you said they were, what, a rock band?" 

"N-Nu pop, technically. With- With math rock and metal influ- inf- nff, genre m-mixing." 

Robert hummed, "Well, you've convinced me. I'll have to check them out sometime." 

Herman lights up, delighted to have someone to gush about this band to, turning his attention directly back to Robert. "You- Really?" 

"Yeah, kid, why not? If you like them, then surely there's some merit to their music." He lets himself smile, warm and inviting, just so he can see the wide grin he gets in return, complete with a glimmer in those pretty puppy-dog eyes of Herman's. Christ, what he'd do to see that look in another context. 

Wasn't that what he was trying to work up to this past half-hour? 

Robert takes the chance to scoot closer on the couch, legs bumping against Herman's, leaning in close with the excuse of glancing into Herm's cup. "You want a refill?" He asks, though Herman hasn't finished his rum in the slightest, barely drinking more than Robert had of his beer- which he put down on the floor in his efforts to get closer. 

Herman's face flushes immediately at the proximity, setting Robert's ego alight with how easy it is to get the kid to react. "I- I- uh, um, n-no! I should- I don't.. drink, I don't need- No. This... is fine." He warbles, quickly pulling his hand in to gulp his watered down liquor in a panic. "Just- This'll be enough. Just this." 

With a noncommittal nod, Robert pressed in closer until they were shoulder-to-shoulder, an odd mix of cool dampness and natural bodily warmth seeping into his side where he tucked into Herman's space. He found himself liking it, perhaps too much, and turned his head to look up at Herman's face. For his credit, Herman was holding it together remarkably better than Robert had expected; only taking a shuddering breath, clenching and unclenching his jaw before managing to tilt his head back in Robert's direction, at the perfect angle for Robert to see a thin droplet of water slip from the wavy tips of his sopping wet hair down the length of his throat. 

"You- You shouldn't— I'll get you wet. If you- your, sitting.. like that." Herman shifts like he wants to move away, only to realize very quickly that he'd cornered himself into the arm of the couch, nowhere to escape Robert's increasing lean. 

"No?" Robert lilts, "I don't mind getting a little wet, not if it's because of you." 

Herman stops dead still, his face rising to an adorable shade of bright red. He's too shocked to stammer, his mouth just opening and closing uselessly in a failed attempt at saying something in response to such an obvious flirt. He doesn't even try to squirm away when Robert reaches over to slip the solo cup from his hands, purposefully brushing his fingertips against clammy skin before taking hold of the rim and downing the rest of the other man's drink, letting the empty cup clatter to the floor and roll somewhere next to his half-finished beer. He'd be cleaning up more than scattered rum stains by the end of the night if everything went his way. 

"D'you mind, pretty?" 

Robert had briefly wondered at the start of the night if he had somehow managed to horribly misread all the longing cross-room looks and Twinkies left on his desk with soaking wet post-it notes of encouragement. It's now very hard to imagine anything but the correctness of how Herman's jaw drops, eyes going big as saucers as he lets out what Robert can only describe as a whimper from the back of his throat. And, oh yes, that noise was much better than the soft squeaks he'd get during work hours. 

"Pr- Pretty?" 

"Mhm... Very," Robert finally reaches up to draw a fingertip along the line of Herman's soft jawline, feeling it reflexively clench closed at the contact, pressing his fingertip to the side of the hero's chin to force him to make eye contact. "Has no one ever told you how pretty you are, Herm?" 

He wasn't lying about Herman being pretty. Once you looked past the geeky, homemade hero suit and dorky goggles, Herman was a beautiful man. Tall, lithe limbs, deft hands, and a gentle face with a lovely, sloping nose paired with big doe eyes to compliment the ever present dip of his eyebrows, showing off every emotion the rookie experienced as he experienced them. Robert thinks, in another life— one where Herman wasn't Waterboy, where he had confidence and stood straight up instead of curling into himself to hide his 6'5" frame— he'd be a model. One that would be praised for his elegant features and walk runways with those impossibly long legs of his. 

Legs, as it were, that Robert's free hand was slowly encroaching upon, brushing against the soaked hem of his shorts as Herman slowly turned towards the older man.

"No- No. Mostly the, uh, opposite." Herman winces at his own words, but doesn't have any time to delve into whatever self-conscious spiral he tended towards when Robert shifts his hand to properly cup Herm's cheek, calloused thumb brushing over his bottom lip. They share a long look, Herman's wide eyes catching Robert's own half-lidded ones, and Robert smirks. 

"What a shame. You're a stunner, kid." He damn near purrs, letting his voice drop low and intimate as he takes the last push into Herman's space, close enough for this breath to ghost over the rookie's skin, earning a full-body shiver that makes Robert's lips tug wider in amusement. "You wanna get me wet now, or what?" 

Herman lets out a hard exhale, his gaze dropping down to Robert's lips before lifting back up with a pleading expression. "You- I- You really w-want.. I... Are- Are you f... for, for serious?" 

Robert can't help the laugh that pulls out of him. "Yeah, kid, for serious. Unless you want me to stop?"

The following frantic head shake nearly jostles Robert's hand from where it's perched on the curve of Herman's cheek, a smattering of droplets flinging from the tips of his hair like a dog fresh from the rain. But Robert doesn't move away, and neither does Herman, even as his hands, dripping in anticipation, lift to grasp loosely around the older man's wrist. "No! Please don't- please don't stop. I just di- didn't— please— you mean th-that I—" Herman sucked in a half-breath, fingertips pressing shakily into the soft flesh of Robert's wrist, "I'm- I'm allowed? L-Like really, actually, seriously allowed? This- Us? Us? Please say yes."

Robert can feel the slip of dew trail down his forearm from Herm's hands, hidden underneath his sweater sleeve. "Yes, Herm, I've been trying to tell you for the past ten minutes that you're allowed this." He pulls his arm closer to himself, Herman following so easily, until they're sharing the same breath of air. "So... Are you going to take what you're allowed, pretty boy, or will I have to make you take it?" 

He barely gets a chance to inhale before Herman is on top of him. 

There was certainly a misguided part of Robert that imagined his first kiss with Herman being more virginal— perhaps a hesitant peck followed by the rookie's hitched stuttering before Robert leaned in to continue. His imagination, somehow, never considered the sheer hunger that Herman could express in a single move: pinning Robert against the couch cushions as he connected their lips in a rough, uncoordinated kiss. He has to pull his hand, now damp, from Herman's thigh to cup the other side of the man's face and guide him into a more comfortable position to keep their noses from bumping together. Herman whines at the shift, muffled in-between them, trying to eliminate any inch of space that kept their bodies apart. 

"Fuck, kid, I'm not going anywhere. I promise." Robert manages once he's pulled back enough to take a breath, having to press his thumbs into Herm's jaw just to keep him from chasing the kiss. He couldn't exactly chastise Herman past that, not when he directly goaded the man into making his move. "You've got me for the whole night— and then some," He tries to laugh, to deflect from how the weight of the other's attraction for him settled so pleasantly heavy into his very being, but it's quickly cut off by Herman's persistence; surging forward once more to shut him up in the best possible way.

This time, Robert doesn't dare push away from Herman's touch. Wandering hands dropping from his wrist to slide down the expanse of his chest, gripping the centre of his sweatshirt until it's soaked and sticking to his heated skin, only to clumsily ruck up the fabric enough to plant cool, clammy palms onto Robert's lower stomach, feeling the rough edges of scars leftover from years past with soft fingertips. Abdominal muscles spasming at the sensation, his gasp is hushed by Herman's lips, only inviting more wandering as Herman kissed him stupid. Wow, maybe he'd have to re-evaluate all the fantasies that had been growing in the back of his mind since first noticing Waterboy's feelings for him. Herman clearly wanted to devour him. And Robert couldn't deny how badly he wanted it too. 

It took him a minute, caught in the middle of such bare eagerness, to recognize just how hard he had gotten— too distracted by the tender, desperate noises that Herman would puff against him, trying to lick into Robert's mouth and taste the mix of cheap beer and spiced rum that was left behind— until one of Herman's hands travelled low enough to press against the erection trapped against his hip.

"Shit!" Robert's head thumps back against the cushions, heaving in a breath to steady himself, unable to stop the keen that raised from his chest to his throat. Herman follows the noise, his head dipping down to continue peppering enthusiastic kisses against his superior's neck. His tongue laves out to lick a line up Robert's jugular, leaving a trail of drool pooling against a scar-nicked collarbone. "Goddammit— I should've let you do this forever ago. So good, pretty, so sweet to me..." 

That gets whimper out of the rookie, burying his face into Robert's shoulder, panting like he'd done far more than some heavy petting. 

"You like that, Hermie?" Robert grins, trailing his fingers into the wet, ginger strands at the nape of Herman's neck. "You like knowing how good of a boy you've been for me? How happy you make me?" 

He can feel Herman nodding vigorously where he's hidden his face, and Robert tugs the downy hair between his fingers to pull the younger man back into his view. And fuck, what a sight he is: Flushed red all the way down to the collar of his wet suit, blinking rapidly like he could barely keep his eyes open with how deep he was into the moment, licking his lips like he'd found his first real meal in months. His hands stilled too, caught under his desire to give whatever Robert asked of him, palm pressed achingly against the dispatchers hard-on. 

"Tell me what you want, pretty. Can you use your words for me?" Robert orders, but his tone is soft, silky, and so easy to submit to. "If you do, you're allowed anything you want." 

"Any- Anything I want?" Herman sounds like he can barely breath, intoxicated not by liquor but by the long-desired need to show his personal hero just how much he meant to the rookie. 

"Mhmm," Robert hums, petting his thumb down the side of Herman's neck, feeling the man's pulse fluttering under his touch. "Just tell me, and I'll let you." 

Herman groans, needy and up-pitched, "Oh God— I want, need, r- really need you— your— nghh, please can I, my mouth, mine, on your—" His fingers flex to take shape around Robert's bulge, looking up at the dispatcher through tear-wet eyelashes, as if his sweet, pleading expression would make up for his inability to form a coherent sentence. "Can I pl- please put my, my mouth on you... your...? Please, R-Rob— Bo-oss— Robert, Ssssir..." 

Robert has to fight himself not to rut into Herman's squeezing palm, his body trying to react without permission to the begging spilling from Herm's kiss-pink mouth, only allowing himself a single jerk upward of his hips, making the younger whine with urgency. 

"Mm, say that again for me, and I'll let you." He promises, twirling a stray lock of Herm's hair between his fingers, giving it a light tug when the rookie leans into the touch. 

"L- Let me... my mouth... on you- your..?" Herman tries, rocking his hand against Robert's erection, fingering at the waistband in anticipation. 

Robert smiles, "No, no, pretty, what did you call me? Try again." 

Herman blinks at him uncomprehendingly, and only gets a patient- if not amused- stare in return, letting the seconds tick by until recognition flashes in glassy baby blues. 

"... Sir?" 

Robert has to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress whatever noise was trying to escape, nodding in assent. "That's it, good boy." Herman shudders at the words, "Now get down on your knees and take what you need. You've earned it, Hermie." 

The haste in which Herman clatters to the floor between Robert's legs makes him hiss through his teeth in sympathy for the guy's joints. He'd need to invest in decent pillows soon if they ever planned on a repeat of this night. Herman barely seems bothered by the loud clunk of his knees hitting the hardwood, not when he's finally been given the permission he'd been craving since realizing his celebrity crush and workplace crush were the same person. He wipes his palms on Robert's inner thighs, wicking away the moisture as if he hadn't been dripping on and soaking into Robert's clothes for the better part of the night, and reaches towards the older man's hips. 

But, just before he can give in to his basest desires, a revelation flashes in Robert's mind, and his hand shoots from Herman's hair to catch the man's chin, stilling him. 

"Wait, shit, kid, have you ever done this before?" He asks through a breath, pitying the betrayed expression shot up at him, "I need to know, pretty, okay?" 

That's enough to slow the hands pawing at this waistband, still trying to subtly pull down the garment without being caught- even with Robert's sharp eyes on him. "U-Uhm, I... have. Sir." He answers after a pause, "B-But it's been a-at least a year— two?—s-since then. They, the guys, they were never... y-you... so I qui- stopped trying." 

Robert raises an eyebrow, "You mean they were never Mecha Man?" 

Herman flusters fast, looking anywhere but Robert's face, attempting— and failing— to make up some sort of excuse before Robert tilts Herm's head up and pushes his thumb between parted lips, pressing down on the younger's tongue to silence him. 

"Hey now, I never said I was against some idol worship, did I?" Robert leans forward, tracking how limp Herman goes in this position, watery eyes slowly trailing their gaze back up to him, tongue working against the calloused pad of his thumb, trying to suck around the digit. This sort of blatant ego-stroking really shouldn't turn Robert on as much as it does, but how can he resist when he's got such a sweet little thing below him eager to please in any way possible? 

"Alright, pretty, why don't you show your favourite hero how much he means to you, yeah?" 

Herman wasn't going to let himself be stopped twice, pulling back from Robert's hand to focus on getting those tented sweatpants off. He was ready for his prize, damn it, and he was losing patience fast. 

His prize, that, much to his mixed delight and disappointment, was hidden behind another layer- Robert's boxers- as soon as he managed to tug down the sweatpants. He glared at the offending garment, finding it both endlessly hot and maddening to keep being held back from getting what he truly wanted. He pouted petulantly at the sight, his brain fogging up with too much arousal to do anymore simple problem solving. So he comes to the quickest compromise: dropping his head forward and burying his face directly into Robert's crotch. 

Robert watches in rapt attention as Herman straight up huffs his bulge, letting out a shameless moan at whatever scent he picked up in the process. He noses at the side of Robert's cock, beginning to drool as he mouthed at the base of his shaft. "Nhhhfff..." Is the only sound he lets out, eyes rolling back before closing completely, clearly blissed out and content enough for the moment to put all his effort into soaking a wet spot into the boxers that rivalled the one already formed just below Robert's waistband. 

It's addictive to see Herman glue his mouth to the outline of the dispatcher's cock. Panting hot and heady, pressing searing kisses up his length and then attaching his lips to the dark patch of his tip, tonguing over the spot until Robert is grinding his hips up to chase the sensation back to its source, which only makes Herman double down in his affections. If he could, Robert would spend the rest of the night letting Herman dedicate himself to thoroughly saturating the fabric of his boxers with saliva. But Robert, for all his worldly experience, is not a strong man when it comes to intimate pleasures, and is absolutely going to bust in his underwear if he lets Herm continue for any longer. It felt a little cruel, too, to deprive the poor boy of what he so fervently begged for minutes earlier. 

"Hermie, baby, hold on," He tries to catch the man's attention, and is immediately ignored in favour of Herman nuzzling in closer to take another deep inhale. Pervert. It's not until Robert threads his fingers into damp ginger locks and tugs that Herman follows; his tongue lolled out of his mouth mid-action, keening at the delicious sting of the pull to his scalp. Herman's eyes flicker open, hazy with lust, trying to blink away the dew that had gathered in the corners of his lash-line to get a clear look at his superior. "You wanted your mouth on me properly, right?" A frantic nod, "Then I have to get these off. Be patient for me, okay? I'll be quick."

Herman whines at the command but acquiesces, sitting back on his heels just long enough for Robert to lift his hips and shove the spit-soaked fabric off of his groin and down his legs, kicking the boxers off somewhere next to his sweatpants. The instant relief of his hard-on no longer being trapped in the confines of his boxers draws a pleased sigh from him, settling back into the couch cushions and looking down at a squirming, very impatient Herman on his knees waiting for permission. 

Being pulled away seemed to have somewhat snapped Herman back to his senses a little, licking the spittle from his lips as his sight narrows in on Robert's cock as it rests, twitching and ready, in the crease of his hip— His desperation being tempered by the sight of his prize in full view. Slick hands mist up Robert's thighs, pushing them further apart so Herman can scoot in closer, breath fanning over the heated length, making it twitch again, and Herman has to swallow down the water that wells up within him. 

"Go on, you're allowed."

There's only a rushed "Yessir," in response before Herman's mouth is back on him. Complete, unfettered access means Herman can happily close every inch of proximity between them. His fingertips skim up the older man's length, grasping loosely around his girth, making room for Herman to dip his head down and start making out with Robert's cock. There's no wasted time anymore, just the eager pairing of lips and tongue working their way up and down in sloppy, obscene movements.

Robert covers his face with his hands to smother the groan that pulls out of him. He peaks down between his fingers to watch Herman slide his hand down to grip the base of his shaft, licking a long stripe up the underside before flattening his tongue against Robert's head, flitting against the tip enough that Robert can't stop the upward jerk of his hips. "Tease," He grits out between clenched teeth, resolve melting a bit at the lust-delirous grin that he gets in return. Herman lets out a breathy giggle, nudging his nose against Robert's shaft, placing little kitten licks at what he can in his position, peering up at his superior with unrepentant adoration that Robert almost moans in response. Herman doesn't stop looking at him as he tilts his head, opening his mouth, and finally takes Robert's cock between his lips. It's ardent and hot, drool pooling at the corners of Herm's lips before dribbling down his chin, uncaring of the mess being made between them. 

"Fuck, shit, that's it— good boy, so good—" Robert rasps, cursing again under his breath, hand dropping from his face to tangle in Herman's hair, lightly guiding him further down. "You got it, baby, keep going..." 

Herman preens under the praise, a rosy flush high on his cheekbones as he does his best to prove exactly how good of a boy he could be for Robert. Letting the pressure on the back of his head encourage the out-of-practise bobs of his head, stroking at what he can't fit in his mouth yet. Robert keeps muttering praises, fueling Herm's cotton-minded arousal, biting down on his knuckle to keep from making too much noise when Herman tightens his slippery grip and twists his wrist in the same stroke. It only pauses when Robert's hips cant up without warning, his tip hitting against the roof of Herman's mouth and making the man flinch back. Robert opens his mouth to apologize, but Herman beats him to it, thumbs caressing the underside of his cock as he pulls off. 

"It's- I'm okay, Rob- Sir—" He promises, "Please don't make me stop. A-Actually, I can— I learned— I'll make you feel good. I want it—" 

Robert pets through Herman's hair, giving a nod in assent that makes Herman brighten, knowing that he won't be pushed off again for a little mistake. Straightening up on his knees, his arms snake underneath Robert's thighs, long fingers gripping at the dips in Robert's hips to pull him forward to the edge of the couch. He glances up at the older man, wetting his lower lip in anticipation before opening up to take Robert's length back into his mouth. 

He's slower, more purposeful this time, taking him inch by inch until his nose is brushing ticklishly against the thatch of hair at his pelvis. Herman swallows around his length, the tip of his cock nudging at the back of the rookie's throat, and Robert watches in hapless fascination as a low whine thrums through the younger— Herman's eyes roll back until he can't possibly keep them open any longer, a tear slipping down his cheek, and a full-body shiver wracking through him until he's gone quiet aside from the little puffs of air and a blissed out whimper that follow.

He looks so perfect that Robert nearly blows his load right then and there. 

"Holy fuck, kid," Robert wheezes, captivated by the sight before him. "You're the prettiest goddamn thing I've ever seen." 

Herman begins to perk back up, fingertips digging into the meat of Robert's hip to keep him pinned to the cushions. Robet's hands find their way back into Herman's hair, brushing the strands from where they're glued to his temples in wet, curling wisps, not wanting to miss a single twitch in the utterly euphoric expression that the younger man is sporting as he builds back a bobbing pace. 

"M'not— Ohh shit— Not gonna make it much longer, baby..." 

Glassy, lust-hazed eyes blink up at him at the warning, and a muffled mewl is all he gets in response before Herm is redoubling his efforts. Robert doesn't think he'd be able to pull Herman off of him even if he tried, too caught up in sloppily sucking Robert's soul through his dick to care about anything but proving he's exactly where he wants to be in the moment. One of Herm's hands splays underneath the hem of Robert's pull-over, spanning his lower stomach, gelid touch barely doing anything to temper the roiling arousal that had been settling low in his gut and threatening to overheat him for a while now. He swears under his breath, thigh muscles trembling as he's brought closer and closer to the edge. 

Then he feels Herman's tongue glide lewdly against the underside of his shaft, and suddenly he's rapidly tipping over the edge before he can get out a second warning. 

His entire body goes taut, back arching, fingers twisting tight into Herman's hair, sucking in a breath like it's the last lungful he'll ever get before melting into a long, drawn-out moan that dissolves into saying, something, anything, that'll get across how incredible it feels. "Jesus fucking Chriiiist— Goddamn perfect, baby. You— mmh— learn all this for me? Maybe I should get you on your knees every day, hah, put your pretty mouth to use whenever I need... Fuck!" 

Herman takes the first few pulses deep in his throat, before having to pull back until it's just his lips suctioned around Robert's tip, and brings a hand down to stroke him through his orgasm, milking him for everything he's got. Once he deems the panting, slowly relaxing Robert drained enough, the younger man finally pulls off with a satisfied hum. Though his distance doesn't last long, dipping back in to press lazy kisses along the sides of Robert's length. 

It takes a minute for Robert to collect himself, a little hiss sliding through his teeth when he finally hits the point of over-sensitivity, having to lean forward and slip his thumb between himself and Herman's lips to distract him. "Such a good boy, Herm. Haven't felt like that in... well, ever, actually." Herm smiles placidly up at him, pressing a sweet kiss to the pad of his thumb before finally extracting himself from Robert's space. 

There's a creak of the floorboards as Herman pushes himself back up to his feet, grimacing when he sees the tiny puddle that had formed under his knees. "Oh, s-sorry, I got flo— the floors wet. And- And you too. I got you—your body—wet, also." 

Robert grins up at him, "Yeah, pretty, you sure did." He can feel it everywhere; The soaked front of his pull-over that was still clinging to his chest, his fingertips lightly pruned form where they'd been tangled in dripping wet hair, his hips and stomach damp from where he'd been grabbed, the drool pooled between his legs from Herman's affections, and the lingering wetness on his thighs where they'd been perched over misty-cool shoulders. "I'm about to get even more wet once you get over here. You need some attention too." 

He reaches for Herm's hand, pulling him forward to clamber into his lap, all lanky limbed and soaking. Herm let's himself be led in, straddling the older man, even letting Robert push up his t-shirt and shove down the front of his cargo shorts to feel him up through his wet suit. His breath hitches, reaching down to stop Robert's warm palm from pressing against him a second time. "You— You don't have to. I, uh, already kinda f-finished when I was- um... d-down on my knees... S-Sorry?" 

Robert takes a long look at him, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Too cute. That's what you are. Too damn cute."

Herman squeaks in embarrassment, dropping his gaze down and fidgeting with Robert's fingers. 

"Next time I'll at least get you out of your clothes before you finish, yeah?"

"N-Next time?" 

A raised eyebrow, "What? You think I'd just pump and dump you, Herm?"

The younger flusters, shaking his head quickly. "No, no! I just— I thought— I don't. I don't know what I th- thought..." 

Robert sits up, easily pulling Herman close into his orbit, connecting their lips in a long, sweet kiss. "Haven't I been spending the entire night telling you that you're allowed this? Take what you want from me, kid, I'll let you have it." 

Herman responds with a slow nod, leaning in for another kiss that Robert happily let's him lead, no longer rushing now that they were both satisfied and on the same page. 

"Tell you what, why don't we get cleaned up and order something to eat, settle down for the night. Maybe you can show me the band on your shirt?" 

"Yeah- Yes! I'd love to- to get— or do— all that. With you."

Robert doesn't stop the grin that pulls wide on his lips. He was so glad he invited Herman over. Worth it, indeed.