Chapter Text
Robert needed to get laid.
So maybe, this development snuck up on him suddenly. He probably wouldn’t have turned down both Invisigal and Blonde Blazer if he knew, well…
Robert was currently so fucking horny it was actually becoming a problem.
No, he shouldn’t say that. Well, the Invisigal and Blazer thing— the other thing was a new, albeit real, development. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. I mean, Visi definitely would’ve been down for messing around, but he knew his heart wasn’t into it and she was chasing at the heels of the first person that showed they cared. Besides, she was doing a lot better now, and he was proud of her. Mandy was clearly looking for a real relationship after not being able to work things out with Phenomaman. and Robert was lagging too far behind, not even sure if he wanted the same thing she was looking for. She deserved someone on her wavelength, someone that she didn’t need to hand-hold through emotional intimacy.
But anyways, back to the issue at hand. Robert had his mechsuit back and was testing the waters, only being sent out for emergency missions. His day-to-day work as a dispatcher now felt strangely fulfilling, and he could call his team his friends. And those friends made sure he went out, actually had fun, and figured out who he was and what he wanted. That person turned out to enjoy collecting records (in which he used his fancy new SDN salary to pay for a nice refurbished record player), needed little rectangular reading glasses, and was getting into gardening. He took advantage of his balcony to start a little herb garden, and had learned a few basic recipes that he could use his new basil and thyme plants in (that is, if they survived long enough).
That person, with proper medication and a support system to battle his depression, was also really fucking horny.
He hadn’t really thought of sex or relationships for years. Trying to keep the mech afloat on his own for so long, he neither had the time nor money for dates. Ever since the dumpster incident, he had sworn off relationships and opted to pick up one night stands at bars once in a blue moon to fulfill any needs. For the longest time, sex was simply transactional, something in the way that had to be done so he could put his efforts into something that “mattered”. Now? It felt like something running on loop in the back of his mind whenever he was alone.
He was worried his newfound tension was starting to seep into his work; he’d get impatient, rushing into things as Mecha Man or getting snippy with his team when they didn’t follow his orders. And on Friday, he realized he had let it go too far.
“Flambae!” He barked, not even bothering to switch to a private channel. “See me in the conference room. Now.”
The rest of the Z-Team tittered, but Robert ignored them as he wrenched off his headset with a groan. He tossed them down on his desk with a harsh thwack, and stalked off into one of the empty conference rooms. He didn’t even bother taking a seat, and instead paced back and forth until the door swung open.
“Lightly on fire is still on fire, Flambae.”
“You’re not going to even fucking look at me before chewing me out?” Flambae scoffed. Robert spun on his heel, leveling him down with a steely glare. Flambae was standing by the door, feet planted firmly with his arms crossed, covered in soot and dirt. “No. You could’ve hurt—”
“You weren’t even there,” Flambae interjected. “So what, the car was kinda on fire, got a little hot, everyone inside was fine!”
“The car carrying passengers wasn’t supposed to be on fire either.”
“It was fucked anyways, what does it matter? What, was I supposed to let them get crushed by that monster—”
“No! You should’ve been more careful, you were being reckless—”
“Bull-fucking-shit! If I didn’t act there, that family would be poof, gone!”
“Still, you disobeyed a direct order, I told you to—”
“You can shove your direct orders up your ass. If I waited, I wouldn’t have stopped that thing as fast as I did and they would’ve gotten hurt for real.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do! I was there!”
They both stared at each other, breathing heavily from yelling.
“You know I’m right, but won’t admit it,” Flambae said, annoyed. “The fuck are you picking a fight for?”
To this, Robert had no good response, and just glowered at him.
“Whatever the fuck kinda stick is up your ass, remove it.” Flambae huffed, and stormed out of the room before Robert could say anything else. He burned a literal trail of footprints across the linoleum, which was going to be fun for the new janitor to deal with. Robert just sighed, rubbing his temples. His problem, unfortunately, was the opposite.
After a healthy minute (or twenty) of calming himself down by sitting there and trying not to think, Robert made to leave, passing by the dispatcher cubicles where Chase and Beef were long gone. Once he reached the lobby, he could see the Z-Team, dressed in casual clothing, all congregated outside through the glass doors, and he pushed them open to a bunch of greetings.
“Hey, Robbo!”
“Hey man, you coming with us?”
“Robert! Done yelling at Flambae?”
The man himself, now clean of debris, simply looked straight ahead haughtily, ignoring him.
“Hey, guys. Coming with you where?”
Visi slung an arm around his shoulders. “Drinks at DeMask, duh. Don’t you read the group chat?”
“I just got off work,” he reminded her as she retreated out of his space, crossing his own arms. “I wouldn’t have had time to read it.”
“Boooo. You’re boring as hell.” Prism jeered. “Text on the job like the rest of us.”
“I’d love to, but I’m too busy wrangling several children to look away for even a second.”
Robert stifled a grin as he was met with a chorus of indignant rebuttals with a but daaaaad thrown in the mix. “Anyways, what’s DeMask? New bar?”
“New hero club,” Malevola corrected him. “For supers, the only rule is no costumes.”
Robert gestured to himself. “And they’ll be okay with…?”
Coupé shrugged. “They’re not strict on door policy. They let regular people in.”
“Ah, what the hell,” Robert finally said, tossing his arms up in the air. “Can’t be worse than that one time we went to the Sardine.”
The Z-Team cheered, and they all fell into amicable conversation as they all started walking as one large group, Malevola throwing a portal into the air.
This could be good, Robert mused to himself. A club might be just what I need.
Robert scanned the crowd. His mission was simple: find someone to take home and slip out before any of the Z-Team noticed he was gone. The latter part should be easy enough, most of them were congregated in the back corner, busy making a ruckus over god-knows-what and easily audible over the din of the bar.
Everyone in the room was out of costume, but Robert could tell they were all supers, even ignoring the fact that they're all in a hero bar. There was a brunette on the dance floor who had already danced with three guys in the time that Robert had been watching, a guy with some sort of reptilian tail downing his hot dog in one impressive bite, and some unassuming man in a polo that could almost pass as a regular human were it not for the fact that his eyes were glowing electric blue. Robert’s eyes darted around the room, assessing his options.
Robert’s whiskey was set down beside him with a clink, and he lifted one arm from where he’d been leaning back on the bartop to take a healthy swig, needing some liquid courage. It had been a while since he’d been somewhere like this to pick someone up, and chances that someone came to him are slim.
“Someone looks pretty concentrated.”
Robert blinked in surprise, a voice to his right breaking his concentration. There was someone now on the barstool beside him. The guy was big. He had long blonde hair, a chiseled jawline, huge shoulders, and looked like he could bench press Robert without breaking a sweat. He would’ve looked a little better with dark hair, maybe… and his piercing cold eyes could’ve been warmer, but… he’d do.
Robert turned ever so slightly towards this new mystery man, tilting his head and looking up, a calculated balance of sheepish yet coy.
“Is it that obvious?”
The guy smirked and wavered his hand in a so-so motion. “Ehh. Could be people-watching, but you have a sort of… hunger in your eyes.”
“Oh? You familiar with that kind of thing?”
“I’m around enough at these kinds of clubs, yeah,” he said with a wink.
Robert let out a low chuckle. “Then I guess you know well enough.”
The guy leaned closer. “So… you wanna cut to the chase and get outta here?”
Robert thrummed with anticipation. That didn’t take much work at all. Robert opened his mouth to respond, when—
“Hey, Bobert!”
The guy straightened up, frowning. Robert, blindsided, just froze in place. Apparently Flambae was over whatever silent treatment he’d been giving him all evening, because he’s right there, so close to Robert’s back he could feel the heat radiating through his thin button-up shirt.
“Can’t take you anywhere, huh Bob Bob? Alright, now you, go on, get. Stop chatting up the straightest fucking man in the building.”
The guy frowned. “Pretty sure I’m—”
“Barking up the wrong tree? Yeah. Bye.” Flambae flapped his hand in a shooing motion.
The guy glowered at Flambae for a moment before giving up, turning on his heel and stomping away.
“Well, you’re welcome—”
Robert whirled around to Flambae, who was standing with his weight on one leg and a hand on his hip, smirking down at him.
“Did you have to fucking cockblock me?”
Flambae faltered, his expression slipping into shock, ember eyes widening before he reigned it in. “Wait. Were you actually trying to…?”
“Sleep with him? Yes,” Robert tapped his foot against his stool, annoyed. “Until your dumbass came along and ruined it for me. Thank you so much for that.”
“Okay, Jesus fuck, didn’t realize how dire your blue balls were,” Flambae muttered. “But, uh, you definitely don’t want to go home with that guy.”
Robert was so pent up, he didn’t even filter the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “Why, you think you could do better than him?”
Flambae’s jaw dropped open, almost comically so, that Robert would’ve laughed if he weren’t so mad. “Actually, that guy is secretly a pushy asshole,” he frowned, uncharacteristically growing serious. “He’s notorious in this area for going to clubs and spiking people's drinks. I didn’t want that to be you.”
“Oh.” Now Robert looked like the asshole. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
Flambae waved it off. “Whatever.” His eyes drifted down to Robert’s mostly-finished whiskey. “Let’s… get rid of this, just to be safe.” Instead of disposing of it like a normal person, he dumped the remaining liquid on the floor. Robert squawked, jumping up to dodge the splash.
They lapsed into silence, Flambae not quite leaving yet. His stance was protective, Robert noticed, as his eyes flicked around like he was sweeping the area, and realized he was looking out.
Hmm… Flambae was usually never so attentive to him. The gears turned in his head as he formed a new plan. This… this could work.
Robert cleared his throat, which immediately drew Flambae’s attention back to him.
“You know what I thought, when you first came over?”
“Hmm?” his voice feigned nonchalance, but the temperature between them kicked up a few degrees.
“I thought you were jealous.”
Flambae snorted. “What? Of you? Don’t be ridiculous, I could definitely pull more bitches than—”
“No, jealous of him.” Robert lowered his voice, and looked up through his lashes.
Flambae froze, and a pink blush sported across his cheeks. Robert felt a curl of satisfaction as Flambae started tripping over himself, denying it.
“I wasn’t jealous, I was just worried—”
“Oh! So you were worried about me?”
“Ye— no, wait a fucking minute. What game are you playing?”
“Nothing. I’m just repeating what you’re saying.”
“I was just saying I don’t get jealous.”
“No… not even a little?”
“I don’t get fucking jealous,” Flambae declared with finality. “My partners are so satisfied, all they can think of is me.”
“I don’t think I believe that.” A beat, and a coy tilt of his head. “Care to show me?”
“Are you… seriously…”
“Because from where I’m standing, I still haven’t gotten laid,” Robert said. “And that’s your fault. So… you can fix it, or you can let me go find someone… competent.”
“Bitch, I’m gonna rock your world so fucking hard you won’t be able to think of anyone else.”
“Mmm, possessive. I like it.”
Hook, line, and sinker.
“Heyyy, Bae—”
“Guys! We’re ordering a round of shots, do you want—”
“Robert’s feeling tired, so I’m taking him home,” Flambae interrupted Malevola, who had just run up to them. He stared at Prism, who cocked her head to the side. “By the way, Discount Thor is back.”
Prism groaned, and grabbed Malevola’s arm. “Ugh, fuck that guy,” she complained. “Okay, I’ll tell the bartender to watch out.”
Malevola’s tail perked up in recognition. “Wait, is that the asshole you were complaining about the other week? Need me to get him kicked out?”
“Can you… do that?” Robert cocked his head.
Malevola grinned, showing off her canines. “Watch this.” She and Prism ran into the throng of people again.
Neither Robert nor Flambae did end up watching whatever it was, because as soon as the two women had disappeared, Flambae had grabbed Robert by the arm and dragged him bodily out the door, collected him in his arms, and jetted off into the sky. Robert only let out a tiny yelp before throwing his arms around Flambae’s neck.
“Fuck! Warn a guy!”
“Sorry,” Flambae said, not sounding particularly apologetic at all. “Hmm. Cute little noise you made there.”
“And if you want to hear more where that came from, don’t drop me.”
“Of course, of course, precious cargo,” Flambae said, playfully. Robert just tucked his face into the crook of his neck. After a moment, a devious thought popped into his head, and he nibbled the tendon.
Flambae swore as they both dropped a couple of feet in the air. “What the fuck? Do you want me to drop you?”
“No, of course not,” Robert replied innocently. “Just testing you.”
Flambae angrily muttered something unintelligible, but flew notably faster, the heat kicking up a notch even against the chilly breeze of the night sky.
As they were quickly approaching Robert’s apartment complex, he directed Flambae to land on the balcony, and quickly slid open the door, pulling him inside.
“You should really lock that thing,” Flambae remarked, before looking around. “Hm. Wow, this place looks way different. Less serial-killer-chic and more… guy who carries a tote bag and reads books at cafes. What the fuck. How’d that happen?”
Robert shrugged as they both looked around his apartment. His sofa now had a plush throw on it, next to a curved brass floor lamp and an end table that had a vanilla scented candle on it. Flambae shot a controlled flame at it, lighting it easily though he was a few feet away. His record player was on his new coffee table, which he had admittedly stooped from the curbside, but it was made of sturdy teak wood and looked way too nice to be left on the street. After inspecting it, Flambae turned to the other side of the room. Robert had replaced his manic conspiracy corkboard with a bunch of photos of the Z-Team, along with a framed article that read LOS ANGELES SAVED ONCE MORE: BY A GROUP OF FORMER VILLAINS? in bold print. There were actual string lights he got from Mandy, twinkling softly above his bookshelf, which was mostly empty save for some books Coupé loaned him and his small collection of vinyls at the bottom. Flambae bent down, perfectly displaying his round ass, and leafed through them, wrinkling his nose as he surveyed each one.
“Of course you fucking listen to the Smiths,” he groaned, oblivious to Robert’s staring. “And the Strokes, and fucking Radiohead… Do you have anything that’s not depressing white boy music?”
Robert sauntered over and plucked out an album with a red car on the cover. Flambae hummed appreciatively at the car, and squinted at the writing. “Who the fuck is… Casiopea?”
“Jazz artist from Japan, I think,” Robert said. “I dunno, picked it out from a second-hand store.”
“Unbelievable,” Flambae snorted. “Next you’ll start telling me you started drinking matcha lattes.”
“I’ve… never had one.”
“Alright, never mind,” Flambae waved his hand. “Do you have any, ugh, sexier music?”
Robert frowned. “Does it matter? We’re going to be fucking in my bedroom, anyways.”
“… huh. You have a bed?”
Robert crossed the room, pushing open his bedroom door. Flambae slid the vinyls back, trailing after him.
“Why the fuck is your lawn chair in the cuck chair corner,” Flambae blurted out immediately after entering the room.
“It’s my laundry pile chair,” Robert admitted.
“You didn’t get rid of it?”
“And waste a perfectly good chair? Besides, I had some good naps on it.”
“No the fuck you didn’t,” Flambae started, voice growing in volume, before he met Robert’s eyes and spotted the amusement in them. “Oh, fuck you. I see what you’re doing.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Riling me up,” Flambae huffed.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d get on with it,” Robert drolled, hand tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. Flambae took the opportunity to really look at Robert and he flushed under the attention. He stalked closer, crowding Robert until the back of his thighs hit the bed.
“So eager for me,” he murmured, their noses nearly touching.
“Yeah, and I’ve been waiting for fucking ever,” Robert agreed, lacing his fingers together behind Flambae’s neck. “So can you get on with it?”
“And so anxious to get dicked down,” Flambae tutted. This why you’ve been all wound up lately? Need someone to fuck you stupid?”
“Yes,” Robert whined, pressing into the delicious heat in front of him. Flambae seemed surprised yet satisfied at that, and his golden eyes narrowed. He bit into Robert’s neck, eliciting a cry, and held Robert up as he clung to him, working bruises into his collarbone.
“Ah, Flambae…”
“Call me Zahir,” he instructed sharply. “I want you to say my real name when we’re like this.”
“Okay, fuck, Zahir,” Robert breathed. His head swam, arousal pooling in his gut from simply knowing his real name. He started tugging at his shirt. “Off, off…”
Zahir flung his shirt over his head, and Robert’s breath hitched as he slowly raked his eyes up his chest until their eyes met. Robert's mouth was hanging open, like he had gone stupid with want.
“Look at you,” Zahir purred. “Can’t even hide how badly you want me.”
Heat flooded to Robert’s cheeks. “You’re so full of it,” he grumbled.
Zahir simply laughed. “You like it.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
With an animalistic snarl that surprised even himself, Robert’s hands shot up and grabbed his shoulders, pulling Zahir down into a messy kiss. Zahir groaned into it as he pushed forwards and explored Robert’s mouth with his tongue, not even breaking away while he undid the buttons on Robert’s uniform shirt. Once they were fully undone, Robert shrugged it off and they separated, Zahir leaning back to get a good look at Robert.
He traced a finger down one of Robert’s scars and he shivered at the touch. Zahir warmed his hands and Robert relaxed into the heat, reclining back and humming at the sensation.
Zahir knelt down so he was between Robert’s legs where they hung off the bed, and pressed a kiss to the scar that ran along the left side of his v-line.
“Mmn… what are you doing—” Robert rasped, trying to lift himself up.
“Shh,” Zahir laid one warm palm against his abs, and Robert laid back down. “Just let me.”
Zahir returned to pressing kisses at every scar in his path, occasionally licking the rough skin, while he unbuckled Robert’s belt and undid his fly. He started sucking a bruise into his hipbone, and cupped Robert’s straining erection in his pants, feeling the wetness through his boxers.
“Fuck!” Robert yelped at the touch. “Take it all off…”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Gnh…” Robert glared down at him, trying to buck his hips up into Zahir’s hand, but he withdrew it. “No… wait, please…”
“Sorry, I didn’t hear—”
“Please, just touch me again, fuck, Zahir—”
“There we go,” Zahir rumbled, pleased, sliding Robert’s pants and boxers down in one go. Robert’s erection bobbed as it was finally freed. “Was that so hard?”
“You’re so lucky that I’m desperate to get fu—cked!” Robert’s muttering turned into a shout as Zahir wrapped his lips around the head of Robert’s cock. “Shit, warn a guy!”
“Warning,” Zahir pulled off to say smartly, before he sank back down and swallowed Robert’s cock to the hilt.
“Ahh, fuck,” Robert moaned. “You really don’t have a gag reflex, don’t you?”
Zahir just hummed in response, hollowing his cheeks as he flattened his tongue against the bottom of Robert’s cock and sucked. He bobbed up and down greedily as Robert chanted his name, unable to do anything else. Eventually, it all became too overwhelming, and he tapped Zahir on the shoulder urgently.
“Zahir, Zahir… stop,” Robert panted, sitting upright with a slight wobble. “I’m going to come too soon.”
Zahir pulled off with a wet pop, impish eyes glittering. He looked quite the picture, chin resting on his arm slung over Robert’s thigh, cheekbone pressed against the glistening pink tip of Robert’s cock. “Is that not the point?”
“But I want to come on your cock.”
Zahir just grinned rougishly at that, and Robert looked away, flustered. He caught his reflection in the mirror on the far side of his room, and even from a distance he could see how dazed and cockdrunk he looked already. His eyes were wide, shining and doe-like, and his lips were pink from where he was biting them. He looked back down at Zahir, who was still on his knees, devastatingly beautiful.
“Should I prep you?”
Robert just nodded, frantically.
“So eager,” Zahir chuckled. “Alright, get on all fours, I’ll go get lube.”
Robert just flipped over and crawled up the bed on all fours without saying a word. There was a silence as Zahir didn’t move, and Robert turned his head back in time to watch him rip his eyes away from where he’d been staring, transfixed, and took out a tiny bottle of lube and a condom from his jeans pocket. He uncapped the bottle and squirted some lube onto his fingers, rubbing them once to warm them up, then gently slid one finger into Robert’s ass.
Robert keened and arched his back, sticking his ass up into the air and spreading his legs wider, trying to pull him in deeper.
“You’re such a slut,” Zahir marveled as he worked one finger in and out of Robert. “This is the same repressed little bitch that keeps harping on all of us about workplace professionalism?”
“Well, I’m not at work right now, am I?” Robert slurred. “Do two fingers now.”
Zahir slapped Robert’s right buttock, eliciting a yelp as Robert fell to his elbows in surprise. “I’m calling the shots here. You wanna try that again?”
“Two fingers… please.”
“Better,” Zahir nodded as he obliged, and Robert grinded back into him. “You just can’t help but be bossy.”
Whatever retort was on Robert’s lips dissolved into a moan as Zahir started scissoring his fingers. They felt heavenly stretching him open, but only just missed that spot inside of him and did nothing to quell his desperation.
“Hngh… I’m ready, I’m ready,” Robert breathed. “Please, just fuck me already.”
“I don’t think this is enough,” Zahir replied, slowing his fingers to a halt. “I’m… pretty big.”
Robert just looked back at him with a glare tinged with desperation as he tried to fuck back onto Zahir’s stilled fingers. “Well I wouldn’t fucking know that, because I haven’t been able to see your cock yet.”
Zahir just laughed and withdrew his hand. “Well, if you’re so desperate…” he undid his button and zip, shucking off his pants and underwear. Robert just stared, aware he was borderline drooling at the thick, hard length between Zahir’s legs. He was, admittedly, right— and Robert felt his own cock twitch as a jolt of anticipation coursed through him at the thought of it inside of him.
Zahir made a show of unwrapping the condom with his teeth, then slowly rolled it onto himself, giving himself a few pumps once it was on. Robert just let out a broken groan and he pushed his ass into the air.
“Zahir… I need you…”
Zahir stopped, then crowded into Robert’s space again and returned to his fluttering hole with three fingers now, slowly moving them and stretching his inner walls. By the time he had graduated to four, he was still deliberately avoiding that spot inside of him, and Robert was muttering gibberish and curses into his clenched fist.
“I’m ready now, I have to be,” Robert said, at last. “Zahir, fuck me already.”
“Do you need my cock?”
“Yes.”
There were tears in Robert’s eyes by the time Zahir withdrew his fingers. Zahir kissed them away and positioned his cock at Robert’s hole, rubbing around the puckered ring with his head.
“Put it in already, please,” Robert begged. “Stop teasing me.”
“Since you beg so nicely,” Zahir murmured into his ear. He very carefully pushed his cock in, so slowly that Robert could feel every ridge rub against his walls until Zahir finally bottomed out. He didn’t move, letting Robert adjust and kept him still, impaled on his cock.
However, Robert was impatient and he keened, pushing back onto Zahir’s cock and squeezing his walls around it, looking back over his shoulder, trying to convey his desperation with shining brown eyes.
“Move already,” he panted, slowly grinding back in circles. Zahir swore and the temperature between them sweltered.
“You just like starting shit, huh?” He growled, squeezing Robert’s hips, forcing him to stop. “Are you that desperate for me to fuck you?”
“Ye-es,” Robert moaned. “I was laying it on pretty thick earlier. Can’t you see how badly I need to be— ngh!”
Robert’s mouth fell open into a moan as Zahir bucked his hips once, sharp and quick. He pushed Robert’s head down, smushing his cheek into the pillow and leaning over to whisper in his ear.
“Since you’re so desperate, I’m going fuck you now,” he purred. “I want you to sing for me.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” Robert slurred, head turned to the side from where he was pressed down.
“Oh, azizam, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Zahir straightened up, and then rolled his hips slowly into Robert, who let out a stream of long groans, trying to chase the friction with sinuous rolls of his own body.
He picked up speed, soon reaching a punishing, machine-like pace. Robert graduated to gasping out sounds with every snap of Zahir’s hips, unable to form words.
“Ahh, hah, aah— ngh, Zah… hah…” Robert drooled into the pillow, trying in vain to call out his bedpartner’s name but too far gone to get out more than one syllable at a time. Zahir groaned possessively and only gripped Robert’s hips tighter, as if he had realized this too.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck… you feel so good…” Zahir panted into the base of Robert’s neck, latching on and sucking bruises. Robert keened at the sensation, throwing his head back, and his legs started to shake. The friction and heat radiating from where they were connected was unlike anything Robert had felt before, and that familiar tension built up in his gut. Zahir reached under him and wrapped one hand around his hips to stabilize him, Robert’s leaking cock hitting his arm with every thrust of their hips, moving in tandem.
“I’m so, mmgh, close…” Robert moaned, wrapping one hand around his cock and moving it furiously. Zahir kept up his punishing pace, fucking into him relentlessly, even as Robert let out a loud, startled cry, stilling and splurting cum all over the sheets and down his front. He didn’t stop, not even as Robert whimpered into the pillows with overstimulation. Robert looked back at him, large brown eyes wet and glistening, and Zahir’s hips stuttered as he came, fucking into Robert a few more times as he emptied himself into the condom and then unceremoniously pulled out, chest heaving.
Robert groaned, lifting his head from the pillow and turning over, wiping one hand down his front and smearing his cum all over himself. Zahir reached over for the box of tissues on Robert’s nightstand, tossing it at Robert as he pulled off the condom, tying it off and lobbing it into the trash can across the room with perfect precision. Robert plucked a few tissues out and gave himself a rudimentary wipedown before dropping them somewhere on the floor, and they both lay there, coming down from their highs.
Zahir glanced over where the two of them lay, propped up on his elbows and unsure that he was fully able to sit up yet, eyes sweeping over the scene to make sure he hadn’t burned anything. Satisfied that everything passed fire safety checks, he lay back down, waiting for Robert to come back down to earth.
“… Shit,” Robert finally breathed, after several minutes of mutual silence. “I really needed that.”
“Ah, he’s able to speak in full sentences again.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Robert laughed, swatting at Zahir and missing entirely. Zahir just dragged him in for an open mouthed kiss, which Robert accepted with a pleased hum. They laid there, lazily swirling their tongues together for a long while, Zahir holding Robert to his chest tightly, like he was something precious to be kept close. Robert pulled away with a wet sound, then sat upright so he was straddling Zahir, legs on either side.
“Robert? Where are you— ngh!”
Robert had positioned himself on top of Zahir and rubbed his ass against his cock. Zahir jumped, moaning at the overstimulation.
“Wait, Robert,” Zahir protested weakly. Robert’s eyes just glittered dangerously, dark with arousal.
“I’m not done yet,” he panted, running a hand down his body and wrapping it around his already twitching cock. “Are you?”
Zahir watched, mouth hanging open hungrily, as Robert slowly pumped his fist over his own length, which started to slowly fill back up. Arousal pooled in his gut and heat flared from his body where he couldn’t reign it in.
“No,” he decided. If Robert wanted to keep going, he was going to give as good as he goddamn gets. “I can go all night.”
“I’ll, ahh, hold you to that promise,” Robert groaned. His fist moved faster. Zahir batted his hand impatiently and replaced it with his own, and Robert bucked up into him with a choked-off moan.
“Fuck, fuck, off,” he grit out eventually, then reaches back to align Zahir with his hole, thumbing at the mushroom head.
“Wait, gnh, fuck, Robert… the condom—”
“Fuck the condom,” Robert snarled. “I haven’t been fucked for years. I’m clean. Are you?”
“Well, yes… but are you sure?”
“I want to feel your come in my ass,” Robert stated plainly. He was no good for Zahir’s heart— it was jackrabbiting in his chest a million miles an hour. “Is it molten hot? Is there going to be as much as the last time? If we go again, are you going to fuck it back into me? I bet you have a plug somewhere, you can keep in in and I’ll feel you every time I—”
“Jesus, Robert,” Zahir breathed, almost reverently. “Yes, yes, to all of that.” He pushed back into Robert, gliding in easily where he was fucked open before.
“Fuuuuck,” Robert groaned. “You’re so much warmer this way. So much deeper.”
Zahir pistoned his hips up, but Robert put one hand on his abs. “Wait, let me.”
Zahir’s jaw was slack, hanging open as Robert lifted himself up once, carefully, then dropped back down. They both groaned, and Robert started bouncing on his cock in earnest.
“Look at you, using me like your own fuck toy,” Zahir cooed, holding down Robert’s calves. “Does it feel good?”
Robert moaned and nodded, spearing himself on Zahir’s cock even faster, desperately.
“Needed… you…” he managed, cock bobbing with his movement. Zahir couldn’t hold back anymore, and started bucking his hips up into Robert. Their movements grew sloppy as they both hurtled towards their peaks, Zahir fucking his molten cum into Robert as it dripped back down, and Robert followed close behind him.
“Fuuuck, it’s so warm, I can feel it,” Robert gasped. “I’m coming, I’m coming—” he choked, coming apart on Zahir’s cock with a garbled moan, gripping his shoulders so tight he was sure it left crescent-shaped indents.
Robert collapsed the entirety of his weight onto Zahir like a marionette with its strings cut, who fell back against the pillowed headboard with a small grunt.
“Hey— bitch, you okay?”
“‘M so good,” Robert mumbled, turning his nose into Zahir’s neck. He could feel the quick puff of his breath against his collarbone. Zahir just rubbed his back soothingly, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of Robert’s mussed hair.
“You all done?” He asked, valiantly trying to smooth down the brown locks, and marveling at how deceptively soft they were.
Robert made a tiny sound that Zahir found instantly endearing. “No…”
“No?”
“We can go again, just let me stay like this…”
Robert was really going to be the death of him. He had buried his face back into Zahir, signaling he was done speaking for the moment, but made no effort to get off. Zahir sat there, incredibly still, Robert nuzzling into him in silence, content to just be his cockwarmer.
Zahir couldn’t stop the heat rising from him if he tried, and Robert sighed happily and shifted in where he was sitting. Of course, though he was still soft, his cock was still very warm and plugging up Robert. The man in question clenched, featherlight, after a bit, making Zahir choke on his own spit and he could feel his cock twitch. He looked down at Robert, who looked up with a sly look in his eye— the bastard was doing it on purpose.
“You…” he bit off a groan as his cock jumped again, Robert squirming from where he sat, pinioned.
“Who, me?”
“You know what you’re doing…”
“What am I doing?”
Zahir, now fully hard again (bless his superhuman physiology) just let out a growl from deep in his chest, grabbed Robert and flipped them over without pulling out. Robert’s low chuckle turned into a grunt as he was pinned down on his back, erection full in his ass, searing hands pressing him down by the wrists.
“You should start moving now,” Robert taunted, once he caught his breath.
“You don’t need to convince me.”
Robert just smiled wickedly. “I know,” he purred. “Just wanted to remind you that I expect more from you.”
Something in Zahir’s stomach swooped as heat radiated from deep within him, surrounding the both of them and making Robert sweat. “I’m going to fuck you into the mattress until you forget how to mouth back.”
Zahir made good on his promise, fucking into Robert with reckless abandon for the third time that night. Robert was singing a litany of praises and pleas, voice more beautiful than any song he had ever heard.
“Yes, you, ahn, fuck me so good…! Right there, please, ohh… Zahir…”
“Look at you… so perfect for me…”
Robert blinked his eyes open and met his, though his vision looked unfocused. His mouth was open and he was drooling, face flushed and hair completely ruined, hands gripping the sheets above his head. Zahir removed a hand from his wrist to hike up his left leg above his shoulder as he kept pounding into Robert, whose moans sharpened in pitch at the change in position.
“Fuck, fuck, let’s come together…”
“Robert… hah… I’m close…”
“Me too, me— hnngh—”
Blood roared in Zahir’s ears as he lost himself in Robert, and it felt all too soon until they were both coming again. Zahir sat back on his haunches and watched as Robert moaned as a trickle of cum oozed his hole. He lay there with his legs still kicked up on the bed and breathing heavily then reached down and teased one finger at his own hole, pulling it more open, and Zahir stared, transfixed, as more cum gushed out. He looked up into Robert’s eyes which, though looking extremely fucked out, still had a fierce light to them that said I’m not through with you.
Robert had the stamina of someone that had been fighting for scraps all his life, and Zahir found himself scrambling to catch up for the first time. They had rutted against each other, Robert had clumsily sucked his cock before demanding to be fucked again, and was so impatient he had to fuck himself on his own fingers while Zahir had to retrieve more lube from Robert’s bedside drawer, unable to go without something fucking him for too long. He lost track of exactly how many rounds they went, Robert stopping after he came dry around Zahir’s cock, all spent. He was now curled up into Zahir’s side, both of them hastily wiped down with a damp towel after the marathon that just took place.
Zahir looked out the window. The thin curtains revealed the sky turning a dull blue. “We actually fucked all night,” he said to himself, in disbelief. “God damn, you’re a fucking animal. Where the fuck does all of that come from?”
Robert shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe from six years of abstinence?”
“Jesus Christ, that was six years of sex for you? No wonder you were fucking crazy.”
Robert grinned, and leaned into Zahir. “Actually, to tell you the truth, I’m just usually like that in bed.”
“You know… I’d be surprised, but you fuck kinda like you fight, and I know you’re a feral little shit when you get in the ring.”
Robert snorted at that. “Did I win this time, too?”
“Alright, bed time for annoying fuckheads,” Zahir replied instead, ruffling Robert’s hair.
“M’not hearing a no,” Robert yawned, snuggling closer.
Zahir didn’t respond with what he wanted to say, which was I must be the winner, if I have you here like this with me.