December 2013

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
29 3031    

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Tuesday, November 29th, 2011 02:55 pm
It is quite possible--no, extremely probable-- that I will regret this, but apparently that is not enough to stop me. Since I have broken up with Bob in a writerly fashion, this will never be more complete than it is right now and since I've been working on it for a very long time and it was intended to be a holiday gift for [personal profile] tempore last year, I figure why the hell not? Other people have posted unfinished stories and called them not!fic and the world didn't end. Of course, whether anyone still wants to read about Bob is a different kettle of fish.



working title: Try to find peace and patches for the holes
Fandom: bandom--Alkaline Trio, FOB, Bob, Brian, Gabe etc.
Series: Cyborg AU
Pairing: Matt Skiba/Bob Bryar
Rating: NC-17
Word count: a little over 6,400
Thanks to [personal profile] mahoni for reading bits and helping me smooth out rough spots, holding my hand and just putting up with me in general. ♥





"So, what do you think?" Matt asked Derek quietly, poking at the various cybernetic parts spread out on the counter. He already knew what he wanted, but Derek had been twitching like a speed freak ever since they got to the shop and Matt wanted Derek to focus so they could get this little buying trip over and go back to their own neighborhood. Chuck's place was upstairs over a trendy little book and coffee shop that Matt wouldn't actually mind visiting some day when he had time to just sip overpriced coffee and pick out a stack of books to take home.

Chuck waited patiently at the other end of the counter, giving Matt and Derek space to discuss their purchases. Derek looked over at Chuck and then back over his shoulder, before looking at the incredibly delicate, incredibly expensive electronics on the counter then pointed out three things. His hand hovered over another one but then he shook his head. "Maybe later. We don't have the cash for that one too."

Since all his choices matched up with Matt's, Matt nodded at Chuck, who came over and started packing them up into a box that Derek tucked away securely in his messenger bag. "Excellent choice, fellas. That iridium alloy makes for some really fucking durable connectors."

"I hope so. Our pet project is kind of hard on his...well, everything." Matt smiled to himself thinking that summed up Bob pretty well, and he didn't even mean it in a dirty way. This time. He prodded the one part that Derek had turned down and asked, "Any chance you could hold on to this for us? We have a few clients who should be paying their bills pretty soon. I could be back in a couple weeks at the most."

Chuck stroked his stubbly chin and thought about it briefly before nodding. "All right, you got two weeks from today. Then it's going back into the general inventory."

"Fair enough. I'll give you a call and let you know." Matt pulled a roll of bills out of his pocket and handed them over to Chuck. "This ought to cover it."

Chuck took the money and was counting it when a discreet little alarm sounded through the room. He slapped his hand under the counter and shoved the money into his pocket as the beeping stopped. "Oh, shit. Sorry fellas, shop's closed. The dumbasses downstairs are getting raided."

"Back door?" Matt asked, already moving toward the back room of the shop.

"Yeah, follow me." Chuck shoved a curtain back and disappeared.

Derek clutched his messenger bag to his chest and they followed Chuck into his store room, where he was shoving a box away from the wall. He popped open a narrow hidden panel and motioned for Matt and Derek to go first then pulled the panel shut behind them. It was pitch dark so nobody moved until Chuck whispered, "Take two steps forward, then turn right, take ten steps and there'll be a door on your left."

Since Matt was in front, he did as he was told, holding one hand out in front of him and reaching behind to grab onto Derek's wrist so they couldn't get separated somehow. He felt around in the dark until he found the latch and cautiously pushed the door open.

They stepped out into a store room full of boxes, pretty near identical to the one they'd just left. Chuck went over to a dusty window, unlocked it, and shoved it up. Matt could see a rusty fire escape outside, so he went over and peeked out to make sure the coast was clear. After he and Derek climbed out, Chuck started to close the window and Matt said, "Wait! Aren't you coming?"

"Nah, I got other ways. I'll let you know when I'm back in business." Then he slammed the window shut and locked it behind them.

Matt eyed the rickety ladder and said, "You go first. You're lighter than me."

Derek scrambled down the ladder, keeping one hand on his bag the whole way. Matt followed as quickly as he could and his feet had barely touched the ground when a single Fed came around the corner and stopped at the end of the alley, apparently as surprised to see them as they were to see him.

The kid looked just out of the Academy, his uniform still crisp and fresh, and his hesitation bought Matt a few seconds to push Derek in the other direction and say, "Run. Don't look back."

The Fed yelled for them to stop and pulled his gun. Matt ran after Derek and made it to the mouth of the alley before the Fed fired. He threw himself to one side, but felt the bullet rip through his left shoulder. He had a brief thought that a few inches lower and he'd probably be dead.

The shot didn't knock him off his feet but the shock of it made him stumble and the pain was another punch just a split second behind. Derek grabbed his right arm and dragged him around the corner of a building just in time to avoid the Fed's second shot and Matt was deeply grateful for rookies who had to stop and think. A veteran Fed would have killed him twice over by now.

Derek kept dragging Matt down the street, muttering, "Oh God, oh fuck, we're dead men now."

Matt didn't dignify that pessimism with a response. He just tried to keep his feet moving fast enough not to trip Derek up.

A white cargo van screeched to a halt a couple yards ahead of them, one of the back doors already open. Pete leaned out and yelled, "Come on, come on, get in."

"What the hell?" Matt gasped as Derek jerked him forward and sent a fresh jag of pain through his entire left side. Then they were scrambling into the back of the van and being tossed around as they sped off down the street.

"How'd you know we were here?" Derek asked as he started first aid on Matt's shoulder--which in absence of medical supplies mostly consisted of pulling Matt down to lie on the floor and trying to get his jacket off in the most painful way possible. He tried to curse Derek, his ancestors, and any future progeny with as much bile as he could muster but mostly he just whimpered through clenched teeth.

Pete grinned and said, "We didn't. We heard about the raid and came to get Gabe." He motioned to a tall guy crouched behind the driver's seat. "Any time there's something going down, he's right in the middle of it. He took Andy's place at the paper and he gets in just as much trouble."

Gabe just grinned and said, "Hey, at least I'm not bleeding all over the floor."

"Who's bleeding?" Bob's voice demanded from the front of the van, and Matt realized he was probably doing the driving. He shook his head frantically at Pete, who mimed zipping his lips, but Bob didn't wait for an answer anyway. "Matt, if that's you, you better not be dying."

"I'm not dying," Matt said, but he was getting light-headed from the blood loss so his voice wavered.

Everything was going fuzzy around the edges and the last thing he heard before he passed out was Bob saying, "I'll kick your corpse with my robotic leg, I swear to God."

***

When Matt came to again, the van was still moving. Bob was kneeling over him on one side, clutching his hand and Derek was kneeling on the other pushing a wadded up t-shirt against the hole in his shoulder. It hurt to an unbelievable extent, but the look on Bob's face was more upsetting. "Bob?"

"Yeah, I'm here. You're okay."

"Yeah." Matt squeezed Bob's hand and a fuzzy thought occurred to him. "Who's driving?"

"Pete. We might get home alive--" He raised his voice to project better. "--if he stops driving like a fucking maniac."

Matt licked his lips and tried to focus. He wished he could pass out again, at least then he hadn't been feeling the pain. "If you don't like his driving, why'd you switch?"

Bob didn't answer, just gave him this exasperated look and blushed. But at least he didn't look as worried, so Matt poked at him some more. "So, did I hear you right? Did you threaten to kick my corpse with your robotic leg?"

"No," Bob said just as Derek said, "Yes, he did."

"Awww, Bob. I'm tearing up."

"You are not. Stop being an asshole."

"I'm wounded," Matt said in retaliation and then felt bad when Bob's brow crumpled with worry again. "But I'm not dying so you won't be kicking me any time soon. I don't go in for that kinky shit."

"Liar," Derek muttered.

"Oh, I go in for other kinky shit," Matt said, and it felt like he could barely drag every word up his throat. "Just not that one."

Bob cracked the tiniest little smile ever and said, "Maybe when you're not covered in blood. That is definitely too kinky for my tastes."

"'k, I'll r'member. Hey...Bob?" Matt felt the world go fuzzy and grey again. "Gonna pass out again. Don't worry, 'k?"

This time he didn't hear anything but the whoosh of the tires on the road and the rumble of Bob and Derek talking quietly above him, making him feel safe as he slipped into oblivion.

***

The next time Matt woke up, he wasn't moving. He cracked open an eye and saw that he was not in the van, but lying in a narrow bed in a small room with wood paneled walls and the paint peeling off the ceiling. The sound of someone moving around made him turn his head to one side. Bob was standing by a small table littered with bandages and who knew what else.

"You were right," Bob said as he picked up a bottle of water and twisted off the cap. He tilted it toward Matt questioningly and Matt nodded. With Bob's help, he took a few sips and the cool water soothed his dry throat so much he would have drained the bottle if Bob hadn't pulled it away. "You can have some more later."

Matt cleared his throat and shifted a little trying to get more comfortable. He immediately regretting it when pain flashed through him like lightning then settled down into a sharp ache centered in his shoulder and radiating outward.

"Well, I guess it's too late to tell you not to move," Bob said, shaking his head and settling down in a straight-backed chair next to the bed. He took out his phone and sent a quick text before turning all his attention back to Matt.

"Won't do it again," Matt agreed a little breathlessly. Closing his eyes and breathing helped, and after a few minutes he felt more clear-headed. "What was I right about?"

"You're not dying."

"See? Told ya." Matt kept very still and considered Bob carefully. He looked like he hadn't slept for days and there was blood on his hoodie, which was strange because he usually couldn't wait to get blood off him.

"Derek's bringing you something for the pain. For some reason he didn't trust me with it. Said I'd overdose you the first time you whimpered." Bob's mouth twitched in an almost-smile and he added, "I wouldn't have. Probably."

Matt smiled weakly and appreciated the thought, even though he really wished Bob had drugs on him right now. He felt like he was being stabbed repeatedly with a hot knife. He sought for some distraction but he really only had one thing on his mind. "What's the damage?"

"Not too bad. The bullet missed the bone and didn't fragment, so the wound was clean. Derek didn't have to perform emergency surgery or anything, just cleaned and stitched it up." Bob motioned at another chair identical to the one he sat in. Matt's clothes were stacked on it and on top of the pile was the handgun that had been shoved down the back of Matt's pants when they'd gone to see Chuck. "You were armed. Why didn't you fire?"

Matt couldn't admit that he hadn't thought of it because he'd been too focused on getting Derek away and out of the line of fire, so he said, "I couldn't shoot some kid who'd probably never even drawn his gun before."

And that was true, too. As quick as he was to defend his friends, Matt was not a cold-blooded killer. Although if someone were seriously threatening to kill Bob or Derek or Dan, Matt would shoot to kill every time. If there was any way out, however, he'd take it.

"That's..." Bob pressed his lips together and looked away. "That's probably for the best. Hang onto that as long as you can."

Before Matt could think of something to say, Derek came in and said, "How're you feeling?"

"I am fucking awesome. Give me drugs."

"Okay, then," Derek said calmly and prepared a syringe. He may have jabbed it in a little less gently than normal, but he was careful when he checked Matt's bandages. "Everything's looking good. Bob, can you give us a minute?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Bob said with visible surprise and got to his feet. "Just let me know if you need anything."

Once Bob was gone and the door shut securely behind him, Derek sat down and said, "How are you really?"

"Hurting. Where are we?"

"Some old office building that Pete's group uses as a safehouse. He said we can stay as long as we need to."

Matt suddenly missed his own bed which was big enough for him and Bob both. "Fuck that, I want to go home."

"Give it a few days, just to be sure it's safe. Pete's got someone checking to make sure we weren't identified." Derek hesitated, and then said, "The bullet nicked a pretty big artery. I lasersealed the damage, but you'd lost a lot of blood. You need a transfusion, but without going to a hospital, there's nothing we can do right away. We're trying to find someone with the same blood type who is willing and able to donate."

"Resourceful as always." Derek tilted his head in acknowledgement of the compliment and Matt couldn't help smiling back even though the drugs had barely started to dull the pain. "Now why'd you make Bob leave?"

Derek shrugged and chewed on his thumbnail for a second or two. "He kind of freaked out when he found out you were injured. More than most of our clients would."

"Yeah, we're...umm. He and I sort of..." Matt trailed off because it was hard to put a name to what he and Bob were. They'd slept together a few times and had some drunken conversations that got a little too intense, but mostly their separate lives went on as before. Maybe that's why he'd played it so close to the vest when he usually told Derek and Dan everything. "We are."

"Yeah, that's cool. I was just curious." Derek considered Matt for a long moment. "Doesn't seem like you, getting personally involved with a client."

"Bob's different."

"Does Dan know?"

"No. It's not like I was keeping it just from you." The drugs were really working now and the pain was receeding into a nice blurry feeling of contentment. "There's not much to tell. Bob is...Bob, you know?"

Derek laughed and asked, "Does this explain why you go around smiling all the time now?"

"It's the Bob Bryar Effect." Matt grinned and it felt dopey even to him. "I dare you to fuck him and not smile about it."

"I guess the meds are kicking in if you want me to fuck your boyfriend."

Thoughts were flitting around his head like butterflies on speed, and Matt made a concerted effort to grab one. "Wait, what'd you say? You can't fuck Bob. Bob is mine. Keep your mitts off him."

Derek laughed at him as he stood up. He pulled the sheet up over Matt's chest and patted the side of his face gently. "Get some more sleep. I don't have any designs on your man."

"Good, 'cause you can't have him." Matt frowned as an unsettling thought occurred to him. "I don't think he knows he's mine yet."

"Mmm, yeah, maybe you want to wait until you're not drugged to the gills before having that conversation." When Matt just stared up at him through half-opened eyes, Derek sighed and headed for the door. Before he left the room, he turned and said, "Seriously, wait until you're not stoned."

Matt let his eyes slip completely closed and said, "Whatever. Send Bob back in here to hold my hand and tell me a bed time story."

When Bob came back a minute later, Matt was just barely hanging onto consciousness. He lifted his right hand and said, "Bob. I'm supposed to tell you...wait, no, I'm not supposed to tell you...something."

"It can wait," Bob said, as he took Matt's hand and sat down in the chair.

Matt stroked the back of Bob's hand with his fingertips. "I wish you could get in bed with me. But there's not enough room."

"You need to be careful anyway. You don't want to reopen your wound."

"Don't you want to?" If Matt had been less sleepy, he'd have winced at how petulant that sounded. Apparently getting shot turned him into a needy bastard.

Bob fiddled with the string on his hoodie with his free hand, and it was weirding Matt out a little to know those rusty brown splotches on Bob's sleeve were Matt's blood. "I want whatever's best for you."

"Don't..." Matt yawned and struggled to keep his eyes open just a little longer. "Don't you ever wanna do something just for you?"

"Well, this one time I let my friend drive me out to a diner at the ass end of nowhere at ass o'clock in the morning to meet two guys who turned out to be insane geniuses. Well, insane, anyway." Bob squeezed his hand and his voice was soft and self-conscious as he said, "That was just for me and it turned out all right."

"Turned out awesome, you mean," Matt mumbled.

Bob nodded. "Then there was this other time when I was really fucked up and I knew I should go home, but I went to see that insane genius again. That turned out all right too."

"Awesome."

"Yeah, I meant to say awesome."

"No, I meant you." Matt finally stopped fighting it and drifted off to the sound of Bob laughing quietly.

***

Matt suspected he was dreaming because Bob usually never talked that much during sex. When dream-Bob lost all his inhibitions, his mouth was absolutely filthy and Matt loved it. Bob was going into glorious detail about how he was going to fuck Matt with his mechanical hand--"and then I'll shove the fourth finger in and you're going to fucking love it"--when Derek climbed into bed with them and said, "Matt, Matt, Matt."

"You're not naked," Matt said, torn between disappointment and confusion. "Get out of my bed if you're not going to be naked."

Hands gently shook him and Derek laughed and said, "Wake up."

Matt jerked awake. "What?" He looked around and saw that nobody was naked and Bob was frowning down at him over Derek's shoulder.

"We found a donor," Derek said, patting Matt soothingly on his uninjured shoulder and holding up a plastic blood bag. "Brian's a match."

"Oh, good. Is he still here?" Matt looked around but there was nobody else lurking behind Derek except Bob.

"No, he had to go." Bob almost cracked a smile as he added, "He said tell you get well soon and be more careful because next time he's charging you double."

"For blood?" Matt shot Bob an incredulous look then flinched slightly as Derek slid a needle into his arm. "What's he charging this time?"

"A favor." Bob watched what Derek was doing with morbid interest and then turned his eyes back to Matt's and added, "To be requested at a later date, and I quote, possibly when you least expect it."

"Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all," Matt said, feeling a little grumpy at this whole set up. It's not that he minded doing favors for his friends, but he liked to have the option of saying no. Otherwise, he ended up doing things like driving halfway to Kansas to bail Brendan out of jail on New Years Day instead of lying in bed and nursing his own hangover. He glanced up as Derek motioned Bob closer, and asked, "What are you guys doing?"

"Improvising," Derek said, pushing the blood bag into Bob's hand. He adjusted Bob's arm a little higher and then pulled a metal hook out of his pocket and screwed it into the wall. He tugged on it to make sure it was in there good and tight and then took the bag from Bob and hung it on the hook. He looked at Bob and said, "That ought to be fine, but keep an eye on it. And call me if anything looks hinky."

"I think I got it." Bob smiled and for some reason that's what made Matt recognize how tired he looked. The pallor of his skin made the dark circles under his eyes look so much like bruises that Matt was tempted to ask Bob if he'd been in a fight.

After Derek left them alone, Bob sat down on the chair next to Matt's bed with an almost silent sigh. Matt watched him for a moment and then asked, "When's the last time you got some sleep?"

Bob shrugged. "I slept some yesterday."

"In your own bed?" Bob's silence answered that, so Matt asked the next logical question. "What's going on? Have you and Brian been working on something big?"

Bob looked at him strangely and said, "No. I've been a little preoccupied."

Matt then thought about how every time he'd woken up in the last few days Bob had been here. "You've been here the whole time? You didn't leave?"

"Did you want me to?" Bob leaned forward like he was going to stand up, and Matt really wasn't sure how to answer. He was glad Bob was there but he wasn't so selfish as to want to keep Bob looking like the walking dead.

"I'm not trying to get rid of you, but you could probably do with a good night's sleep and a change of clothes." Matt raised his hand off the bed just high enough to point at the sleeve of Bob's hoodie. "You still have blood on your shirt."

Bob looked down at the rusty stains and then back at Matt. He sounded almost surprised when he said, "That's yours."

"Yeah, I figured it was." Matt sighed and said, "Go home, Bob. Take a shower, get some sleep, take care of yourself."

When Bob just stubbornly sat there, Matt said, "I appreciate that you've been here for me, but if you keep hanging around while I'm all out of sorts I'm liable to say something neither one of us is ready to hear."

Bob blinked at him and opened his mouth, but Matt cut him off before he could speak. "No. Listen, you're exhausted and I'm drugged and...not at my best. That's not a good combination. Derek warned me that some things are better said sober, and for once I'm trying to take his advice and be patient. I don't want to scare you off."

When Matt stopped speaking, Bob tilted his head and waited for a few seconds before saying, "Do I get a turn now? Maybe you didn't notice, but I don't scare that easily."

"You were scared when you found out I got shot."

"No, I was pissed off that you're an idiot who carries a gun and doesn't use it."

"You told me I shouldn't shoot anyone."

"I--" Bob scowled. "Okay, yeah, and you shouldn't but still. I wasn't scared."

"If you say so." Matt put on a pitiful expression and said, "I think I need another pain pill and for you to go take a nap or something."

"Fine, whatever." Bob got to his feet and leaned over Matt, being careful of the tube leading into his arm, and brushed a kiss across his mouth. Matt barely had time to register the dry press of lips and the soft scratch of beard before Bob was pulling away with a smile. "I'll let Derek know I'm leaving, so he can come check on you."

***

After the transfusion, Matt started getting stronger and Bob started leaving for longer stretches which led to boredom setting in. When he finished reading the books Bob brought him, he started taking little forays around the building, checking out rooms and poking through closets until Derek chased him back to bed.

"I want to go home," Matt announced on one such occasion. He'd been sifting through a pile of old computer equipment in a corner of the basement, hoping to find something worth salvaging, when Derek found him and tried to drag him back upstairs. Pete just watched from the foot of the steps as if this was the best entertainment he'd had in a long time.

"Don't be stubborn," Derek said with an exasperated sigh, but he moved over to a stack of processors and pried open the casing of the one on top to look inside. "It's safe here and you can't do much work one handed anyway."

"I'm not completely useless," Matt snapped and was a little annoyed when Derek didn't even react. "When's Dan coming back?"

"Day after tomorrow. You can go home when he gets back to town." Derek glanced over his shoulder at Pete, who'd moved over to the other side of the room to perch on top of a dusty crate. "If that's okay with you?"

"Sure. You guys can stay as long as you want. I don't--"

Whatever Pete was about to say was cut off by two things happening nearly simultaneously--a loud boom assaulted their ears and the building shook so hard that Matt was thrown off his feet. An ominous crack above him made him glance up and roll to one side as part of the ceiling came down.






[some more dramatic actiony stuff happens because a bomb just went off in the next building and Bob has to heroically carry Matt to safety. which he can do because he's a CYBORGFUCKYEAH! Then he takes Matt home with him]


"Fucking automated transports. I don't trust them," Bob grumbled as he changed lanes. "How can a machine possibly be as good a driver as a human being? But I guess they have to be safe. The Regulators wouldn't allow--"

Matt snorted before he could stop himself.


***

Bob eased Matt down onto the couch. Even though Matt protested that he didn't really need help, he was grateful for it anyway. All of the day's excitement had drained what little energy he had. Derek had warned him it would take a while for him to get his strength back and not to push himself, but Matt was feeling anxious to get back to his old self again.

"Do you need anything?" Bob asked, watching Matt closely. "Do you want a blanket, a drink, something to eat...?"

"What I want is to not be treated like an invalid." Matt immediately regretted his impatience when Bob looked away, his expression blank. "No, I didn't mean... I just want everything to get back to normal."

After a moment, Bob smiled slightly, a little hopefully. "I could blow you. Would that be normal enough for you?"

"You know, I think it just might," Matt said, even though he wasn't entirely sure he could even get it up. He was certainly willing to try.

Bob sat down on the couch and gently cradled Matt's face in his hands, kissing him softly at first. When Matt enthusiastically kissed back, Bob smiled against Matt's lips and let his hands slide down Matt's neck, dragging his fingertips down Matt's chest, pinching his nipples lightly through his shirt and skipping over his left arm in its sling to pet his stomach. He leaned back just enough to say, "You sure you're up for this?"

"Mmm hmm." Matt didn't have to think about it. He was already getting hard and definitely wanted Bob's mouth on him, but Bob waited until Matt opened his eyes and nodded before pushing Matt's shirt up and tucking it under the arm braced across his midsection before popping the button on his pants and sliding the zipper down. Bob kissed Matt again, slow and sweet and just at the edge of dirty, before slipping off the couch and kneeling between Matt's feet.

They worked together to get Matt's pants off and Bob was so, so careful to support Matt's weight as he lifted his hips and make sure his shoulder didn't get jostled that Matt had to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths. Bob pressed his face against Matt's underwear, his breath warm and teasing through the cotton, and then pulled back and quietly asked, "You okay?"

Matt swallowed hard and nodded, staring down into Bob's eyes. He lifted his right hand to Bob's face, skimming his fingers down Bob's cheek, and smiled when Bob turned and sucked one of Matt's fingers between his lips and bit down gently.

Sweeping his thumb over Bob's cheekbone, Matt buried his hand in Bob's hair as Bob leaned in and mouthed at Matt's cock until the fabric was damply clinging to his skin and he ached for more. Bob watched Matt's face as he eased the waistband of Matt's underwear down with languid reverence and Matt couldn't have looked away if his life depended on it. It might have been too much, a little too scarily intense with anyone else, and Matt would have pulled in on himself in self-protection, but this was Bob. And he'd had a way of sliding past all Matt's defenses since the day they started what should have been a strictly business relationship. But it just never really was. Not for Matt anyway.

Bob broke eye contact first, turning his attention to Matt's cock as he took it in hand with a gentleness Matt didn't really need but appreciated all the same. Bob pressed his forearm along the outside of Matt's thigh and curved his mech hand around Matt's hip, the delicacy of his touch counteracted the knowledge that he could probably crush the bone beneath his fingers, a fact that should not have been hot but turned Matt on even more anyway.

Opening his mouth and licking around the crown of Matt's cock, Bob looked up as if to gauge Matt's reaction. Matt drew in a shaky breath and licked his lips. Bob smiled slightly and sucked the head into his mouth, giving a pleased little hum when Matt groaned deeply and said, "Yes, yes.

Matt's eyes sank shut in pleasure, but he forced them open again because Bob sucking cock was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. The mixture of concentration and pure enjoyment on his face was enchanting, and Matt couldn't stop touching it, brushing his fingertips over the freckles scattered over his cheeks and petting his bearded jaw. When he traced the edge of Bob's lip with his thumb, Bob let Matt's cock slip out of his mouth and pulled Matt's thumb between his lips. He sucked hard, grinning around it when Matt laughingly said, "Mmmm, sexy. Now go back to the other one."

"Stop distracting me," Bob murmured, but he kept his eyes on Matt's as he licked the head of Matt's cock a couple of times before opening his mouth wider and swallowing the whole length down slowly, so slowly that Matt's hips jerked, instinctively trying to go deeper, faster. He was glad Bob had had the foresight to hold him still but he apologized anyway.

"Sorry. You're just..." Bob sucked hard as he pulled back and Matt groaned, "Fuck, I'm gonna come--"

Bob pulled off and said, "Not yet." Then he squeezed the base of Matt's cock and watched Matt's face for a long moment before nodding and lowering his head again, this time licking a long line across Matt's belly and rubbing his open mouth along Matt's hipbone. His beard brushed so lightly against the side of Matt's cock that Matt wasn't even sure he felt it until Bob did it again and tingles of pleasure shot through him.

"Please, Bob." Matt tangled his hand in Bob's hair and tried to push his head where he wanted it to go, but Bob just laughed low, sending shivers down Matt's spine, and pushed Matt's legs further apart. He scooted back a little and buried his face between Matt's thighs, licking behind Matt's balls before pulling one into his mouth, sucking very gently before letting go and doing the same to the other one. Matt shuddered with pleasure, and almost half of it was from watching what parts of Bob's face he could see. He could nearly get off on just how into it--into him--Bob was. That kind of concentration was sexy as hell and Matt felt fortunate to be the focus of it. He also looked forward to paying Bob back in kind just as soon as he was physically able.

After what seemed an eternity, Bob finally raised his face and gave Matt a very faint smile, his lips reddened and slick and the dark circles under his eyes starkly noticeable. Matt wanted to pull him up into his arms and give him a hug and tell him how amazing he was, but then Bob blinked and seemed to remember what he'd been doing. He licked up the length of Matt's cock and took the head into his mouth. He flicked the tip of his tongue against the slit a couple times before sucking the whole thing in deeper and setting up a steady rhythm that was exactly what Matt needed to push him over the edge he'd been teetering on for ages.

He pushed at Bob's face and tugged on his hair and that was all the warning Bob got this time, but Bob just held on and rode it out as Matt came with a broken gasp. He relaxed back into the couch cushions with an exhausted shudder as he got his breath back, only peripherally aware of Bob fixing his clothes before climbing up onto the other side of the couch.

Matt rolled his head to one side so he could see Bob better. He felt all loved up and blissed out and kind of just wanted to drift off to sleep, but Bob was sitting there with a flush on his cheeks and a bulge in his pants. He couldn't just leave Bob alone when he looked that fucking hot.

"Come over here," he said, watching Bob intently.

Bob glanced down at his lap and then back at Matt. "You don't have to."

"I want to. Come on." Matt reached out and grabbed Bob's wrist, tugging him closer. Bob protested again but he did move closer.

Matt tugged again and a twinge of pain went through his shoulder. He tried to smile through it but it probably looked more like a grimace. Bob shook his head. "What do you think you can do in your condition?"

"Well, if I'm totally honest...not much. But I could watch while you do it."

Bob blinked a couple of times and said slowly, "Yeah...I guess."

"You don't have to," Matt said soothingly, then couldn't help smirking a little as he added, "But it would be really hot."

Bob seemed unconvinced but he popped the button on his jeans and unzipped his fly. Matt lifted Bob's hand to his mouth and licked his palm, the skin tasting of musk and sex and smoke. He licked it again to get it good and wet and then wrapped Bob's hand around his own cock, still hard. That Bob got that turned on sucking Matt off was almost enough to get Matt's exhausted body interested again. Almost. "Okay, you can take it from there."

"Gee, thanks," Bob said dryly, his mouth twitching with amusement. He settled back and started pumping his hand with a fast ragged rhythm, self-consciously awkward. He seemed more like he was trying to get it over with than getting any pleasure out of it.

Matt reached out and put his hand on top of Bob's, stopping its frantic movement. "Slow down. It's not a race."

"Maybe not for you," Bob said, but he did let Matt slow his pace a little.

"That's it," Matt murmured, letting his fingers trail up Bob's hand and across the head of his cock. Bob shivered and Matt smiled as he settled his hand on Bob's thigh. He wanted to maintain contact but he also wanted to stay out of the way so he could see what Bob would choose to do. "Just do what you usually do when you've got all the time in the world and you want to make it good. What do you usually think about?"

When Bob didn't say anything, Matt glanced up to find him blushing and biting his bottom lip. Matt wanted to kiss him so bad in that moment, but his shoulder was already hurting and trying to move right now would be too much. A sharp pain--and Matt's reaction to it which Bob would be unable to ignore--would spoil the mood and Matt really wanted to see Bob come before he had to take a pill and ask Bob to help him to bed.

He stroked Bob's thigh, the denim soft and worn beneath his fingers, and wished Bob had pulled his pants down further so Matt could feel bare skin. He waited until Bob started to relax into it just a little before he asked again. "Come on, Bob, talk to me. What do you think about?"

"Lately..." Bob's breath hitched and the rest of the sentence seemed to be dragged out of him. "I think about you." His hand sped up again and this time Matt didn't interfere, just watched in fascination as his curved fingers slid down slowly and then quickly back up, squeezing and giving a slight twist just under the head. "I think, think about fucking, think about your mouth..."

As Bob trailed off, Matt dragged his fascinated gaze back up to Bob's face and whispered, "What else? Tell me."

Bob's blush intensified and Matt just had to touch the heat of his cheek, skimming his fingertips along Bob's cheekbone and down to the corner of his mouth. Bob closed his eyes and swallowed hard before finally speaking so quietly that Matt could just barely hear him. "I--it's--not just sucking me off. I think about your mouth everywhere, anywhere, just...all over me. And kissing you. I think about that a lot."

Matt was taken aback for only a brief moment, and then he was suffused with a particular warmth that he'd felt very few times in his life. Bob fantasized about foreplay and affection, and Matt could not have loved him any more than he did in that instant. It was a bittersweet realization that he couldn't just come out and tell Bob what he was feeling without scaring him away. He leaned in to press his lips to Bob's cheek, putting him close enough to hear the even quieter words that slipped out next.

"And...I wish I still had my real left hand so I could feel your skin with both hands." Bob's eyes snapped open and he stared at Matt like he was surprised he'd said that out loud.

Matt turned Bob's face slightly and kissed him, deep and quick before leaning his forehead against Bob's and saying, "Me too, but I do love--I love the way you are now."

Reply

From:
Anonymous
OpenID
Identity URL: 
User
Account name:
Password:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
Subject:
HTML doesn't work in the subject.

Message:

If you are unable to use this captcha for any reason, please contact us by email at support@dreamwidth.org


 
Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of people who comment anonymously.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.