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The kiss broke, leaving them both gasping for air in the dim light of Nasir’s apartment. Robert’s hands, which had been cupping Nasir’s jaw, slid down the taller man’s neck, over the hard planes of his chest, past the trimmed trail of dark hair on his stomach. His fingers hooked into the waistband of Nasir’s briefs.
“Off,” Robert murmured, his voice a low, rough command that was entirely at odds with his usual dry dispatcher’s tone.
Nasir’s amber eyes glittered with defiance. He arched his back, helping Robert strip the last barrier away, but his smirk was pure provocation. “Took you long enough, Mecha Man. Getting stage fright?”
Robert didn’t answer with words. He pushed, and Nasir went down onto the mattress with a soft oomph, his broad shoulders hitting the sheets. Robert knelt between his splayed legs, and for a long, breathless moment, he just looked.
The visual contrast was stark. Robert, at 5’7”, was dwarfed by Nasir’s 6’4” frame, by the powerful thighs that now lay open for him, corded with muscle and dusted with dark hair. But here, in the intimate space between them, the power dynamic flipped entirely. Robert was in control, and Nasir was laid bare. His cunt was gorgeous—neat, with lips that were already flushed a deep, enticing pink. He kept his pubic hair trimmed into a stylized flame pattern, a detail so perfectly, arrogantly Nasir that it made Robert’s chest ache. And it was wet. A slick, gleaming sheen coated his inner lips, and a single, tantalizing bead of moisture had gathered at his entrance, catching the light.
“Fuck,” Robert breathed, the word hushed with reverence.
“See something you like?” Nasir taunted, but his voice hitched as Robert’s thumbs came up to gently part him. The touch was clinical at first, an inspection, and it made Nasir shudder. “Don’t just stare at it.”
“I’ll do what I want,” Robert said, his eyes lifting to lock with Nasir’s. He leaned down, his breath ghosting over the slick, exposed flesh. Nasir twitched violently. “Eyes on me, Flambae. You look away, and I stop.”
It was a challenge. Nasir’s jaw tightened, but he held the gaze, his own burning with a mix of irritation and desperate want. Robert lowered his mouth.
The first touch wasn’t a lick. It was a soft, open-mouthed kiss, right on his outer lips. Nasir’s hips jerked off the bed. Robert held him down with a firm hand on his stomach. He did it again, a little lower, then dragged his tongue slowly, so slowly, through the soaked fold.
The sensation was electric. Nasir gasped, his head pressing back into the pillow, but his eyes, wide and dark, stayed locked on Robert’s. Hot, wet, perfect. Robert’s tongue was relentless. He laved broad, flat strokes, coating himself in Nasir’s taste—musky, sweet, uniquely him. He circled the tight, fluttering entrance, teasing it with the very tip of his tongue, feeling it clench around nothing.
“Rob—” Nasir choked out.
Robert ignored him. He focused on the clit, now swollen and peeking from its hood. He flicked it, once, twice, with rapid precision. Nasir cried out, his thighs trembling where they framed Robert’s head. Robert sealed his lips over it and sucked, gently at first, then with increasing pressure.
Nasir’s back arched in a sharp curve. “Fuck, yes, right there, don’t you dare stop—”
He was a brat, even in submission. Robert rewarded him by redoubling his efforts. He pushed his tongue deeper, spearing into Nasir’s cunt with shallow, firm thrusts. The wet, filthy sounds filled the room, mingling with Nasir’s ragged pants. Robert could feel him getting impossibly wetter, the juices flowing freely now, soaking Robert’s chin, dripping down onto the sheets below.
Robert pulled back, just for a second, to breathe a cool stream of air over the wet, heated flesh. Nasir whimpered, a high, broken sound. “Tease,” he accused, his voice trembling.
“You love it,” Robert growled, and dove back in. This time, he was hungrier, messier. He ate him like a man starved, licking and sucking and fucking him with his tongue, his nose buried against him. He bit gently at the inner thigh, then harder, leaving a red mark on the powerful muscle. Nasir yelped, but then moaned, long and low, his hands fisting in the sheets.
“I’m… I’m gonna…” Nasir warned, his eyes screwing shut.
“Eyes.” Robert’s command was sharp. Nasir’s flew open, hazy with pleasure. Robert slid two fingers into his mouth, getting them good and wet, then pressed them alongside his tongue, sinking them deep into that dripping, clenching heat. He crooked them, searching, and found the rough patch inside that made Nasir shout.
It was too much. The dual stimulation, the forced eye contact that laid his soul bare, the raw, wet friction—Nasir came with a shattered cry, his body seizing. Robert felt the walls around his fingers pulse rhythmically, and then a hot gush of fluid soaked his hand, his wrist, the sheets beneath them with a sound like a splash. Squirting. Nasir’s body went rigid, then limp, his chest heaving.
Robert slowly withdrew his fingers and his mouth, his own breathing uneven. He knelt back, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, never breaking eye contact. Nasir’s cunt was a glistening, well-used mess, lips puffy and parted, juices still seeping out.
“You,” Robert said, his voice thick, “are the neediest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Nasir, spent and trembling, managed a weak, triumphant smile. “Told you. Now are you gonna fuck me, or do I have to beg for that too?”
Robert’s cock, rock-hard and straining against his own pants, throbbed in agreement. He shucked his remaining clothes with frantic haste, his eyes never leaving the slick, inviting heat between Nasir’s thighs. He knelt forward, his cock, thick and flushed, springing free. He used the head, already beading with pre-cum, to trace the outline of Nasir’s swollen lips.
The touch was feather-light, a maddening tease. He smeared the pre-cum over Nasir’s sensitive flesh, painting him, making him glisten even more. Schlick. Schlick. The soft, wet sounds were obscene. He rubbed the broad head up and down the slit, applying just enough pressure to make Nasir whimper, his hips making abortive little thrusts.
“Look at you,” Robert murmured, his own control fraying. “Soaked for me. You made a fucking mess.” He gave a gentle, teasing slap with the head of his cock against Nasir’s clit. Pat. Nasir jolted. “You want this?”
“Yes,” Nasir hissed, his brattiness melting into pure need.
“Say it.”
“Fuck me, Robert. Please. I need it. I need you in me. Raw.”
That was all the permission he needed. Robert positioned himself, the tip nudging against that impossibly wet, welcoming entrance. The heat was staggering. He pushed forward, just an inch, and they both groaned at the sensation. No barrier, nothing but skin on slick, hot skin. He watched, mesmerized, as Nasir’s body stretched to take him, as his own cock disappeared into that tight, dripping heat.
“Eyes on me,” Robert gritted out, sinking deeper, and Nasir, panting, obeyed.
The first thrust was a revelation. A brutal, burning stretch that punched the air from Nasir’s lungs in a sharp, choked cry. Robert buried himself to the hilt in one smooth, devastating motion, his hips flush against Nasir’s ass, his own groan a ragged, primal sound. The heat was absolute. Slick, tight, velvety heat that clenched around him like a fist, so wet he could feel the evidence of it already leaking out around the join of their bodies.
Robert stilled, trembling with the effort, his forehead dropping to rest against Nasir’s collarbone. “Fuck,” he breathed into the sweat-slick skin.
Nasir’s entire world had narrowed to the sensation of being filled, split open on a cock that felt impossibly thick after the teasing. His thighs, still trembling from his first orgasm, fell open wider in helpless invitation. A low, continuous whine escaped his throat. “R-Rob…”
“Eyes,” Robert gritted out, the command a rough scrape against Nasir’s ear. He lifted his head, forcing himself to meet Nasir’s gaze. Amber eyes, glassy with pleasure and shock, locked onto his. Robert pulled back, almost all the way out, the drag a delicious, wet friction that made them both gasp. Then he slammed home again. Hard.
The impact jolted Nasir up the bed. “Ah!”
“Who’s got the tiny little peen now?” Robert growled, his voice dark with a mix of smugness and raw lust. He emphasized the question with another punishing thrust, his balls slapping against Nasir’s soaked skin. “What else did you say? That it didn’t even work cause I had erectile dysfunction?”
Nasir screwed his eyes shut, his face contorting as another deep, rolling thrust hit something perfect inside him.
“Aye, eye contact!” Robert’s hand shot up, fingers tangling in Nasir’s dark hair, not yanking, but holding him firm, forcing his face up. Nasir’s eyes flew open, wide and a little wild. “Does this,” Robert punctuated each word with a sharp, deliberate roll of his hips, “feel like the cock of someone who has erectile dysfunction?”
The sensation was overwhelming. The fullness, the raw, unfiltered slide of skin on wet skin, the look in Robert’s brown eyes—fierce, possessive, hungry. Nasir could only shake his head, a frantic, wordless motion, his mouth hanging open. His own hands scrabbled at Robert’s back, blunt nails digging into the muscle.
“Use your words, brat.”
“N-no,” Nasir gasped, his hips beginning to move in tiny, involuntary circles, trying to coax more. “It’s… it’s big. So deep. Fuck.”
Robert rewarded him with a deeper, slower stroke, grinding his pelvis against Nasir’s clit on the inward push. Nasir’s back arched off the mattress, a broken moan torn from him. The wet sounds were obscenely loud in the quiet room—the slick schlop of penetration, the wet slap of skin, their mingled, ragged breathing. Robert set a relentless pace, not frantic, but deep. Every thrust was a claiming, a measured, powerful drive meant to sink him as far into Nasir’s body as physics would allow.
He could feel every ridge, every fluttering, clenching response of Nasir’s cunt around him. The wetness was a constant, heated flood, making the glide effortless, amplifying every sensation. It dripped from where they were joined, soaking the coarse hair at the base of his cock, making a dark patch on the sheets beneath Nasir’s ass. So wet. Dripping for me.
The size difference played out in the mechanics of it. Robert, the smaller man, was the one driving up into Nasir’s larger frame, pinning him with weight and will. Nasir’s powerful thighs were hooked over Robert’s hips, his legs splayed obscenely wide, the thick muscles quivering with the strain of holding the position, of being so utterly open and vulnerable. Robert leaned down, changing the angle, and the new depth made Nasir cry out, his eyes finally breaking contact as his head thrashed side to side.
A sharp bite on the cord of Nasir’s neck brought his gaze back. Robert’s teeth sank into the taut muscle, not enough to break skin, but enough to brand, to promise. “I said eyes,” he murmured against the reddening mark, his thrusts never faltering. “You look at me while I fuck you. You look at me while I fill you up.”
Nasir obeyed, his pupils blown wide, his expression one of dazed, overwhelmed surrender. He was babbling, a stream of Dari and English and pure, senseless sound. “Kushti… please… more… right there, oh god, right there…”
Robert felt the telltale tightening low in his gut, the electric pull of his own climax coiling. He shifted again, hiking Nasir’s hips higher with a hand under his ass, and drove in at a new, devastating angle. The head of his cock rubbed directly over that swollen, sensitive spot inside with every stroke.
Nasir’s pleading dissolved into a scream. His body locked up, his cunt clamping down on Robert’s cock in a series of rhythmic, milking pulses that were so intense they were almost painful. Robert fucked him through it, his own rhythm stuttering as he chased the feeling, the wet, hot convulsions dragging him closer to the edge.
“Gonna come,” Robert warned, his voice guttural, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more erratic. He was losing his famed control, buried in the slick, clutching heat of the man beneath him. “Gonna fill you up. You want that? You want me to breed this pretty cunt?”
“Yes! Yes, do it, please—” Nasir’s plea was cut off as another, smaller orgasm ripped through him, his body shuddering violently.
That was all it took. Robert’s vision whited out at the edges. With a final, grinding thrust that buried him to the root, he came. It was a hot, pulsing rush, a flood of seed pumping deep into Nasir’s core. He groaned, a long, low, animal sound, as he emptied himself, each spurt a shock of perfect, primal release. He held himself there, locked inside as he throbbed, his hips making tiny, involuntary jerks, spilling everything he had.
For a long moment, the only sounds were their harsh, panting breaths and the wet, dripping aftermath. Robert slowly, carefully, pulled out. The sight was utterly debauched. Nasir’s used, swollen cunt glistened in the low light, Robert’s cum already beginning to leak out in a thick, white trickle against the flushed, tender flesh. Robert dragged the head of his softening cock through the mess, smearing it, mixing their releases together.
He collapsed onto his side, one heavy arm thrown across Nasir’s heaving stomach. Both were slick with sweat, trembling. Robert turned his head, his lips finding the bite mark on Nasir’s neck, laving it with his tongue. Nasir flinched, then sighed, a boneless, utterly spent sound.
Robert’s cock, still sensitive and half-hard, twitched against Nasir’s thigh. He was far from done.
Robert’s weight was a warm, solid anchor on Nasir’s spent body, but the twitch of his half-hard cock against Nasir’s thigh was a promise. A demanding one. Nasir felt it—a flicker of heat in his own exhausted core, a treacherous, needy pulse.
Before he could muster a sarcastic remark, Robert moved. He rolled off, his hands firm on Nasir’s hips. With a grunt of effort that belied his smaller size, he manhandled Nasir’s larger frame onto his stomach. The sheets were cool and soaked beneath him. Robert hooked his hands under Nasir’s thighs, spreading them wide, exposing him completely.
“What—?” Nasir managed, his voice rough.
The answer was Robert’s mouth, hot and insistent, pressing against the back of his thigh, right where it met his ass. Nasir jerked, a weak noise escaping him. Robert’s tongue laved a slow, wet stripe upward, over the curve of his cheek, and then lower, to the heart of the mess he’d made.
Nasir’s face burned into the pillow. Oh, god. Robert’s tongue delved into him, not with the frantic hunger from before, but with a deliberate, thorough purpose. It was slow, almost clinical. Robert was licking into him, his tongue probing deep, gathering the thick, spilled seed that was already leaking out of Nasir’s used, sensitive hole.
The sensation was obscene. Intimate in a way that made Nasir’s toes curl. It was wet, sloppy, and so fucking direct. Robert’s nose was pressed against his skin, his breaths hot puffs against his perineum. Nasir could feel the flat of Robert’s tongue swiping, gathering, the faint scrape of stubble on his inner thighs. He could hear it—the soft, slick sounds of Robert cleaning his own come from Nasir’s body.
Nasir shuddered, a full-body tremble. “Rob… you don’t have to…”
Robert lifted his head just enough to speak, his lips brushing Nasir’s skin. “I know.” His voice was a low, possessive rumble. “But I want to.” He went back to work, his tongue spearing deeper, curling, cleaning. He lapped at the swollen, puffy lips, sucked gently at the tender entrance, drinking down the mixture of their releases. Nasir could feel himself getting wet again, fresh arousal slicking the path Robert’s tongue was so diligently clearing.
It was too much. The submission of it, the raw vulnerability. Nasir was spread open, being tidied up after being fucked, and it was making his heart hammer against his ribs. He tried to close his thighs, a reflexive motion of overwhelmed nerves.
Robert’s hands clamped down on the thick muscles of his thighs, holding them apart with immovable strength. He didn’t stop. He ate him out from behind with a focused, languid intensity that was its own form of domination. Every swipe of his tongue was a claim. Mine. All mine.
He worked until the evidence was mostly gone, replaced by the slick shine of saliva and Nasir’s own fresh wetness. Only then did Robert pull back, resting his cheek against the swell of Nasir’s ass. His breath was ragged.
“Don’t worry,” Robert murmured, his voice thick and dark with intent. He bit the meat of Nasir’s left ass cheek, not hard, but enough to make Nasir yelp. “I’ll fill you again.”
The sheer, smug audacity of it. The promise, delivered so casually against his skin. A hot surge of indignation, of bratty reflex, shot through Nasir’s lethargy. He twisted, and with a strength born of pure irritation, he kicked backward.
His heel connected with Robert’s jaw with a solid, unforgiving thump.
Robert reeled back, a hand flying to his face. He blinked, more surprised than hurt.
Nasir froze, panting, his body still taut. A beat of silence hung in the air, thick with the scent of sex and sweat.
Then Robert laughed. A low, dangerous, utterly delighted sound. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Okay,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “You want to play it that way.”
He didn’t give Nasir time to retort. In one fluid motion, he surged forward again. This time, his mouth wasn’t gentle or thorough. It was ravenous. He buried his face between Nasir’s spread thighs, his tongue plunging deep into his cunt without preamble.
Nasir cried out, his fists clenching in the sheets. This was different. This was punishment. Robert’s tongue fucked into him, rough and demanding, the flat of it pressing against his inner walls, seeking out every sensitive spot he’d memorized. He alternated between deep, spearing thrusts and broad, flat licks that covered his entire perineum and the swollen lips below. The wet, slapping sounds were lewd, echoing in the room.
“Ah! Ah, fuck!” Nasir babbled, his hips pushing back helplessly against Robert’s face. He was so exposed, so utterly open. Robert’s hands gripped his thighs like vices, fingers digging into the dense muscle, holding him wide. The size difference was never more apparent—Nasir, the larger man, pinned and spread by Robert’s sheer will, being devoured.
Robert pulled back for air, his chin gleaming. “You’re still so wet,” he growled, his breath cool against Nasir’s overheated flesh. “Dripping for me again already. Greedy little thing.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He sealed his lips over Nasir’s clit and sucked, hard.
Nasir saw stars. His back arched, a broken scream tearing from his throat. Robert sucked and licked, his tongue a relentless, flicking pressure on the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. He bit, just a gentle scrape of teeth, and Nasir jolted as if electrocuted.
“No, no, too much, I can’t—” Nasir gasped, his body trembling on the precipice.
“You can,” Robert muttered against him, the vibrations sending fresh shocks through Nasir’s core. “And you will. Look at me.”
Nasir twisted his head, his cheek pressed into the damp pillow. Their eyes met over the curve of his own ass—a dizzying, obscene angle. Robert’s gaze was fierce, commanding. Nasir felt a fresh gush of wetness soak Robert’s chin at the direct eye contact, the humiliation and pleasure twisting together into an unbearable knot.
Robert’s tongue found his entrance again. He pushed it in, as deep as it would go, then fucked him with it in a shallow, rapid rhythm. Lick, thrust, lick, thrust. The stimulation was everywhere—the deep penetration, the pressure on his walls, the wet heat of Robert’s mouth. Nasir’s thighs shook violently in Robert’s grip.
He was babbling, a mix of Dari and English pleas. “Bega… please… stop, I’ll come, I’ll—”
“Do it,” Robert ordered, his voice muffled against his skin. “Squirt for me. Let me taste it all.”
The command, the filthy promise, was the final trigger. Nasir’s vision whited out. His body seized, a violent, uncontrollable convulsion that ripped through him. A hot, gushing flood erupted from him, soaking Robert’s face, his chin, his neck. Robert didn’t pull away. He drank it down, his throat working, his tongue lapping eagerly at the source as Nasir’s body bucked and writhed through the endless, pulsing release.
When it finally subsided, Nasir collapsed, boneless and sobbing for air. Robert finally lifted his head, breathing heavily. He wiped his face on the sheets, his eyes never leaving Nasir’s. He looked utterly debauched, triumphant, and so fucking turned on it was a palpable heat in the room.
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the bed on either side of Nasir’s hips. His cock, now fully hard again, pressed insistently against Nasir’s wet, twitching entrance.
“Now,” Robert said, his voice a dark, delicious threat.
Robert didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. The blunt, insistent head of his cock pressed against Nasir’s slick, swollen entrance, and with a single, powerful thrust of his hips, he was inside. Raw, skin to hot, wet skin, all over again.
Nasir’s entire body went rigid, a punched-out sound escaping his slack mouth. Oh, god. Too much. He was over-sensitized, his nerves screaming from the brutal, wonderful assault of Robert’s tongue, from the orgasm that had just torn him apart. The stretch burned in the best, worst way—a delicious, overwhelming fullness that bordered on pain. He was so wet that Robert slid in with shocking ease, the glide obscenely smooth, but the sensation was just… too much.
“Ah—ah! N-no, wait—” Nasir’s plea was a broken whimper. His hands scrabbled weakly at the sheets, his powerful thighs, still spread wide by Robert’s positioning, trembled violently. He tried to push back, to escape the overwhelming intensity, but Robert’s hands clamped down on his hips, holding him in place with immovable force.
“Shhh,” Robert murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble against Nasir’s sweat-slicked back. He didn’t pull out. He stayed buried to the hilt, his body a heavy, solid weight on top of Nasir, pinning him to the soaked mattress. One hand slid around Nasir’s waist, splaying possessively over his lower stomach as if feeling his own cock stretching him from the inside. “Take it all. You can take it. Just breathe.”
Nasir tried. He sucked in a ragged, shuddering breath. The fullness was immense, a deep, internal pressure that made his eyes water. He felt stretched, used, so thoroughly fucked open that he could feel every ridge, every pulse of Robert’s cock inside him. A fresh, hot tear traced a path down his temple into the pillow.
“It’s… it’s too full,” Nasir sobbed, his face mashed into the fabric. His hips gave another feeble jerk, but Robert held him down, his grip firm and unyielding.
“I know it is,” Robert said, his lips brushing the shell of Nasir’s ear. His voice was impossibly gentle, a stark contrast to the brutal, claiming possession of his body. He began to move, not with the punishing pace from before, but with slow, deep, impossibly deep rolls of his hips. Each inward grind pressed his pelvis flush against Nasir’s ass, forcing his cock even deeper, rubbing directly against the raw, oversensitive spots inside. “I know. You’re so full of me. But look how good you’re taking it. Such a good boy.”
Nasir whimpered, the sound high and pathetic. Good boy. The words sank into him, warmer than the heat of Robert’s body. His defiance, his brattiness, melted under the praise like sugar in hot rain. A fresh wave of wetness seeped out around Robert’s cock, easing the glide, making the slow, deep drag a slick, torturous pleasure-pain.
Robert’s thrusts were relentless, a steady, rhythmic claiming. He wasn’t fucking for his own release—not yet. He was fucking to remind Nasir who was in control, to overwhelm every single one of his screaming nerve endings until all he could do was feel. With each slow, measured push, he grunted softly, his breath hot on Nasir’s neck. “That’s it. Just like that. Let it happen. Don’t fight it.”
Nasir wasn’t fighting anymore. He was dissolving. The overstimulation was a live wire in his core, sparking and sizzling with every movement. He was crying in earnest now, quiet, hiccupping sobs that shook his shoulders. But his body was betraying him, clenching down on Robert’s cock in a helpless, rhythmic pulse, seeking more of the unbearable friction.
“You feel that?” Robert groaned, picking up the pace just a fraction. The wet slap of skin grew louder, a filthy counterpoint to Nasir’s cries. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Your body wants it, even when your mouth is crying. Look.”
Robert’s hand on his stomach pressed down, and Nasir could feel the solid, undeniable bulge of Robert’s cock moving inside him. The visual, the physical proof of his own deep penetration, sent a jolt of shameful, white-hot arousal straight to his already-throbbing clit. He moaned, long and low.
“Good boy,” Robert repeated, the praise a drug. “Doing so good for me. Just hold on a little longer. Let me feel you.”
Nasir’s world narrowed to the sensation of being speared open, to the hot, wet slide, to the heavy, possessive weight on his back. Robert’s teeth found the junction of his neck and shoulder, not a sharp bite, but a firm, grounding pressure. It was a brand, a anchor in the storm of sensation. Nasir’s cries softened into breathy, hitched gasps. He was floating, overwhelmed, completely owned. The line between pleasure and pain blurred into a single, shimmering ache that radiated from his core out to his fingertips.
Robert’s rhythm began to falter, his own control fraying. His thrusts became shorter, harder, more urgent. The hand on Nasir’s stomach slid lower, his fingers finding Nasir’s swollen, neglected clit. He rubbed rough, tight circles over it, and Nasir screamed, his body bowing off the bed.
The dual assault was too much. The deep, relentless penetration and the direct, brutal stimulation on his clit catapulted him over another edge—one he hadn’t known was there. It wasn’t the gushing release from before. This was a dry, shattering convulsion, a seizure of pure sensation that locked his muscles and stole the air from his lungs. He came silently, his mouth open in a soundless scream, his cunt clamping down on Robert’s cock in a series of violent, fluttering spasms.
That was all it took. Robert growled, a raw, animal sound, and buried himself as deep as he could go. Nasir felt the hot, sudden flood deep inside him, another thick, claiming pulse of seed joining the mess already there. Robert held himself there, his body trembling against Nasir’s, his hips making tiny, involuntary jerks as he emptied himself completely.
For a long moment, they stayed locked together, both of them panting, soaked in sweat and come and tears. Robert was no longer hard but was still buried to the root. He shifted his weight, just slightly, and the movement made Nasir whimper again, a soft, broken sound of utter sensitivity.
Robert nuzzled the bite mark on his neck, his voice a rough, satisfied murmur. “Told you you could take it.”
The two just existed there for a moment before Robert leaned closer and pressed soft kisses up the tense line of Nasir’s spine, lingering at each vertebra like he was counting them. The skin beneath his mouth was warm and damp, flushed a deep, rosy heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. Faint red impressions from the sheets patterned his hips and thighs, proof of how long he’d been pressed down.
“Are you okay, flame?”
A muffled whine was the only answer. Nasir shoved his face deeper into the pillow, broad shoulders curling inward as if he could hide inside it. His breathing was still uneven, hitching every so often when oversensitive nerves flared. The room smelled thickly of sex and sweat and cedar body wash and something distinctly them — heavy and intimate and earned.
Robert watched him carefully.
Not with dominance now. Not with hunger.
With assessment.
Nasir shook his head quickly when Robert asked if it had been too much. The movement was small, but decisive.
“Oh, good.” Relief softened Robert’s features instantly. He rested his forehead between Nasir’s shoulder blades, just breathing him in for a moment. “I meant it, you know. I wouldn’t push you somewhere you couldn’t go.”
Another small sound from the pillow. Less strained this time.
“I told you you’d like overstim play.” There was a faint trace of smugness, yes — but it was fond. Gentle. “Was I right?”
A long pause. Nasir’s fingers twitched against the sheets. Then, slowly, begrudgingly, he nodded.
Robert huffed a quiet laugh against his skin. “See?” he whispered.
He shifted carefully, bracing one hand at Nasir’s hip. “I’m going to pull out now. Tell me if it spikes too much, yeah?”
Nasir’s hand lifted weakly, giving a small thumbs up without looking.
Robert smiled despite himself.
He withdrew slowly, deliberately steady, doing everything he could to avoid dragging friction across nerves he knew were raw. Nasir’s breath stuttered sharply, a pained sigh escaping him, but he didn’t protest. Didn’t tense away. Just endured it with that stubborn resilience he carried into everything.
When Robert settled beside him, he let his hand rest flat on the small of Nasir’s back — not possessive, not pressing. Just there. A weight. A reminder.
“Want a bath now?”
This nod was immediate. Almost frantic.
Robert’s mouth curved. “Thought so.”
He stood, rolling his shoulders once. His own body protested — faint tremors through his thighs, bite marks blooming along his collarbone — but he ignored it. He could crash later. Nasir always came first after scenes like this.
The tiles were cool under his feet as he crossed into the bathroom. He turned the taps and adjusted them by instinct. Steam began to curl upward, fogging the mirror in slow waves.
Scalding. The way Nasir liked it. The way his fire tolerated it without flinching.
Robert leaned against Nasir while the tub filled, listening to the rush of water. Letting the domestic normalcy settle him. Once it was decently high Nasir turned off the tap and climbed into the tub on his own.
Satisfied that Nasir was in the bath, Robert went back to the bedroom.
The bed was wrecked.
Sheets twisted into knots. Pillows half on the floor. Damp patches everywhere. He stripped it with efficient movements, bundling everything into a heap. There was something grounding about restoring order. About resetting the space so that when Nasir crawled back in, it would feel clean. Safe. Neutral.
He started the wash and returned with fresh dark grey sheets — Nasir’s favourite set, softer from wear. He made the bed with neat, precise motions. Corners tucked tight. Duvet fluffed. Pillows placed just so.
A small ritual of care.
When he stepped back into the bathroom, steam wrapped around him immediately. The air was thick and humid.
Nasir was half-submerged, arms floating lazily at his sides. His head rested against the back of the tub, eyes closed, dark hair plastered to his forehead. The heat had flushed his skin an even deeper red, but he looked… boneless.
“Have you even attempted to wash?” Robert asked, leaning on the counter.
A grunt.
A slow, unapologetic shake of the head.
Robert hummed. “Of course not.”
He knelt on the bathmat, ignoring the way it dug into his knees. He reached for the cedar-and-sandalwood body wash — the one Nasir claimed made him smell “less like a walking bonfire.” Robert liked it because it lingered on his pillow afterwards.
He lathered the cloth and started at Nasir’s ankles.
Slow. Methodical.
He washed over calves that still trembled faintly when his fingers pressed too firmly. Over powerful thighs that bore faint crescents where Robert had held him. He cleaned him thoroughly but without teasing. No flirtation. No provocation.
Just care.
When he reached the intimate places, he didn’t make a joke. Didn’t smirk. He cleaned away evidence of their intensity with steady hands, clinical and gentle all at once. Nasir’s breathing stuttered once but didn’t spike.
“You’re okay,” Robert murmured quietly, more reminder than question.
Nasir nodded.
He moved upward — chest, shoulders, arms. The small firm planes of his pectorals rose and fell beneath the cloth. When Nasir’s eyes fluttered open, they were hazy but aware.
He watched Robert.
Not guarded.
Not defensive.
Just… watching.
Robert met his gaze briefly, then continued, rinsing the cloth and pouring hot water over him in careful cascades.
“Hair,” he said softly.
Nasir leaned forward without complaint. Trusting.
Robert wet his hair under the tap and worked shampoo into it, fingers digging into his scalp in slow circles. He pressed into tension points he knew by heart — at the base of the skull, just behind the ears.
A low groan vibrated through Nasir’s chest.
“There,” Nasir sighed.
Robert’s mouth softened. “Yeah. There.”
He took his time rinsing the lather away, shielding Nasir’s eyes with one hand. When the water ran clear, he pulled the plug.
“Up.”
Nasir stood carefully, steam curling off him in waves. For a second he swayed — not dizzy, just loose. Robert stepped in immediately, steadying him with a hand at his waist before wrapping him in a large towel.
He dried him briskly, rubbing warmth back into his limbs. Then guided him back to the bedroom, one hand firm at the small of his back the entire way.
Nasir collapsed onto the freshly made bed with a groan that was half relief, half exhaustion.
Robert disappeared to rinse himself quickly — efficient, minimal — and returned moments later, sliding in beside him.
Nasir turned instantly, like muscle memory. He burrowed into Robert’s chest, fitting there perfectly. His arm draped heavily across Robert’s waist, fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers.
Robert wrapped both arms around him.
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was thick with warmth. With safety.
“You’re a menace,” Nasir muttered eventually, voice rough and fading.
Robert kissed the top of his head. “You started it.”
“I always do.”
“You do.”
A pause.
“You finish it,” Nasir added, softer.
Robert’s arms tightened just slightly. Not enough to wake him.
“Every time,” he replied.
And this time, it didn’t sound smug at all.