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If all it took was a night out drinking with a bar brawl and some pizza, Robert would have done this days ago. Would have dragged his own abused body in front of Jesse and said hit me, if that is what it took to get here, now, on his couch and still fighting.
Jesse's tongue leaves a wet strip along Robert's neck, his mouth following it back down sloppily. He growls out Robert's name in that annoyed huffy way of his, frustrated but wanting - almost desperate.
Robert grins.
Jesse is pinned under him, flushing red from his cheeks to his chest, despite them only tonguing each other's throats. Granted, they have also been at this for a while. Jesse's arms are tied above his head with his own shirt, his hair down and splayed around his head like a dirty, shattered halo. All the while Robert is free to take things at his own leisure, touch wherever he wants to as long as it gets Jesse hot and panting and on the edge of begging for more. And what a wonderful goddamn sight that is - with Robert's hand rubbing Jesse's hard on through his jeans, making him tense as he tries not to squirm, not to buck up for more.
And oh yes, those noises are definitely pleading.
He'll deny it, Robert is sure, but his breath is hitching with the effort of his disguise, like he has any control on the matter. Except he does, if he wants it…
Robert takes his hand away. “What was that?”
He gets a growl in response.
“Nu uh, I don't think so, champ.” His fingers rake up and down Jesse's side. “What do you want?”
The noise is more breathless this time, higher pitched.
“That's not an answer.” Robert's thumb presses firmly while trailing up Jesse's cock, still trapped behind restricted jeans. His other hand reaches up and grips behind the neck bared to him. Jesse's head is thrown back as he whines between clenched teeth, like the confession physically hurts to give. “What do you want?” Each word is emphasized with slight pressure, more and more from both hands.
“Robert. Robert. Robert.”
It's not an actual answer, but Jesse's arms reach forward and suddenly Robert is being pulled down full force with the tied shirt behind his head keeping him there. Teeth bite his lips, as something sharp and guttural leaves Jesse's throat. Strong legs hook around his waist and Robert finds himself groaning into the mash of their tongues, his own hard on being pressed down and aching to be let out and really touched.
And god, it's so fucking late, but there's still this much wild left in them.
The next moment Robert finds himself being pushed off the couch and onto his bed. He's laid out and bare, his hands gripping the other's thighs to keep him in place.
“You sneaky, agile little-"
And the way Jesse moans his name from above him cuts his snark off. The smaller man sits nice and pretty on his dick, chest naked and sweaty as he heaves air in like he's suffocating, like his body can't keep up with his wants. Robert can't help but slide his hands up, over Jesse's waist and up his sides, just feeling the heat of his body. Feeling the way Jesse lifts himself up and drops himself down, tight heat wrapped around Robert like a vice, like the sweetest fucking pressure he could ever ask for. And he meets each drop with a thrust up, wanting to go deeper every time, wanting more and more and more.
Maybe his own old body is the one that can't keep up.
“Goddamnit, Jesse.”
Who knew nurses were as fucking delectable as he was told?
Robert reaches up and guides Jesse down, bent forward to be chest to chest, face to face. His other hand firmly grasps an ass cheek to knead with his thrusts. Every movement brushes their mouths together, his name a murmuring plea that he absolutely delights in. His fingers entangle in long dark hair and it's too perfect to pass up - so he pulls, baring a scruffy neck just begging to be tasted. The Adam's apple bobs as he swipes his tongue along it, as he grips Jesse's hair tighter. A moan echoes out and he can feel it under his lips.
It turns into a stuttering inhale, caught by surprise as he bites at the junction of neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to surely leave a bruise. There's groaning when he does it again and again, the hips bouncing on his dick turned to rolling against him instead, distracted by the sharp pain of every mark Robert leaves on his body.
He'll have those in the morning, won't he?
Mister new neighbor with his friendly smile and wicked humor and open neck scrub tops will have to go through his day, his week, with mouth shaped bruises covering his neck. And there's no mistaking them, no covering them up with anything less than a conspicuous turtleneck or scarf. But he won't, Robert knows he won't. He didn't cover up the first hickey Robert gave him, the one from their first night’s almost hook up. Reminding Robert when he walked into Coffee Spoon of what almost happened, what they almost did, what they almost lost.
But they're losing it right now, aren't they? He couldn't hold himself back for long, couldn't stop himself from literally fucking everything up. He has wants and needs and has bad ideas he can't say no to, won't say no to.
This lesson should have been learned by now, shouldn't it?
Robert doesn't want to think about what they'll be after this, what they could be, what they won't ever be. He grabs onto Jesse's waist and pounds harder.
The bed underneath them shakes and creaks, just as Jesse trembles under him. On his hands and knees now, with his back arched. He groans into Robert's pillow. A wicked sense of satisfaction coils in his gut at the thought of Jesse pressing his face into his stuff, smelling his scent, inhaling Robert with every gasp.
That's me, he thinks, me inside you, me in your mouth, on your tongue, buried balls inside you, it's me.
“You're mine,” he says, low and heavy with every cry of his name that he hits out of Jesse. He's hot and breathless and so, so close. “You're mine, mine, mine.”
“Robert!”
“Mine!”
“You're mine, aren't you, Robert?”
And he's so goddamn full it hurts. The body behind him pressed in close, smothering him, suffocating him, pushing in more and more. He wants it to stop, but instead he pulls the other closer.
“Yes!”
Yes, his, all his. Robert is his.
“What was that?”
“Fucking move already, Joseph.”
Strong arms wrap around and hold him right there, as he struggles to breathe. There isn't enough air in the room and everything is too close, and his hand hurts so fucking much, the itchy tattoo scab bleeding through. Why the hell did he agree to this?
It hurts and he loves it because it's everything he deserves.
The moan under him brings Robert back. Jesse is there with Robert's cock still buried in him, Robert's pillow still clenched in his fists, between his teeth.
“Be a good boy for me,” Joseph says, still behind him.
Joseph's hand reaches out and grabs the cheek Robert isn't, giving it a squeeze. Jesse moans again and pushes back into him, encouraging. He can't help but oblige, and Joseph shifts away from him, his other hand grasping Robert's waist. When Robert pulls out, he feels Joseph press in again. Soon enough they're in tandem, with Robert in the middle.
And god, does it feel so good.
“God's not here, Robert,” Joseph whispers in his ear before giving an unexpected push.
Robert's breath is crushed out of him as he's hit again and again, each thrust transfering into the man under him. He can barely keep himself up, but Joseph's arm around his stomach keeps him in place. Maybe he's crushing Jesse too, but all he hears are wailing moans with every snap of Joseph's hips.
“It's just us. You and me.”
“Jesse,” Robert gasps, he doesn't know how much longer he can hold on for.
“Robert!” Jesse cries, his head yanked back as Robert pulls on his hair.
“Oh no, you really think he's here for you?”
And god, his muscles are starting to cramp, he can't feel his legs and he's chafed and everything hurts, but he wants to finish this so badly.
“You think you're good enough for him?”
The pounding in his chest is harder and faster than the cock in his ass, but he's not sure which is going to kill him first. He needs to shut his eyes against the ache.
“You think you deserve any of this? Any of my affections, my attention, my love?”
“Please!” He doesn't know what he's begging for anymore.
“Robert.”
When Robert opens his eyes again, Jesse is kneeling in front of him, turned around to be chest to chest, face to face. His hand grips Robert's straining cock as Joseph presses in from behind, every thrust pushing him into Jesse's fist.
“You think you deserve anything but this hurt? You think you want anything more?” Joseph growls out, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing Robert to bare his neck.
“Robert,” Jesse presses his face into Robert's neck, breathing him in, tasting him like he's something desirable.
“What do you want, Robert?” Joseph holds him tighter.
And he's close, been so close for so long, he just wants-
“What do you want, Robert?” Joseph gets harder, rougher.
“Robert,” Jesse kisses him.
He wants-
“Say it, use your words. Be a good boy,” Joseph grips his chest, his neck.
“Robert,” Jesse stops touching him, starts pulling away from him.
No! Fuck! He wants-
“Say it, say you're mine,” Joseph suddenly stops.
“Robert!”
Jesse's fist hits him in the face and he comes.
--
Robert wakes up on the floor of his bedroom, head pounding, heart racing, and his boxers uncomfortably wet.
What do you want?
He stays there, tangled in the blankets and listens to his own gasping breath in the silence.
You deserve this.
He reminds himself of the bars, the fight, the parking lot, the movie.
What do you want?
He reminds himself that Jesse is asleep on the couch, that Joseph is not anywhere in his home.
You deserve this.
Robert reminds himself that he's alone.