Work Text:
It takes a lot to get Robert genuinely flustered; most attempts earn a flat or slightly annoyed look, a sarcastic comeback... at best, a dirty joke. Working with the Z-team for so long has only made him all the more immune to crudeness.
He does have one weakness, though. A softer approach gets to him like nothing else.
And the delicate, gauzy fabric brushing against his bare skin is very soft. Powder blue and completely see-through, the flowy tank top doesn't even pretend to hide any scar or freckle. The only thing keeping him from being completely bare is the thong, the same baby blue, keeping his half-hard cock contained for now.
He stares at himself in the mirror, arms crossed, brows furrowed as he analyzes. He thought it'd look stupid.
It kind of doesn't. That's almost worse.
One of the thin straps falls down his right shoulder, taking the bit of fabric that had covered his nipple with it. Not that it was actually obscured or anything. It still makes it look a little bit more obscene, and his ears start to feel hot. Sure enough, there's a redness spreading over them, across his cheeks.
"Come on, Bob Bob! I want my prize already." Chad calls from the bedroom. Fuck. He never should have agreed to that dumbass fucking bet. Maybe it does look stupid. Something so delicate and feminine on him like this. It doesn't fit at all.
Bracing himself for the very real potential of mockery, which had almost certainly been the point of this in the first place, Robert exits the bathroom.
Chad is lounging on the bed with his usual arrogant smirk, his burning eyes eager to take in the sight. "Shit, Bobbo." His voice comes out strained, and he clears his throat, holding up a hand and twirling a finger. "Come on, do a spin for me. I wanna see the back too."
Robert huffs, but obligingly turns around.
Chad chuckles low behind him. "The back of your neck's all red too. This is what gets you, bitch? Dressing up all pretty for me?"
The words make something in the back of his mind buzz with pleasure. "Shut up."
"Nah, don't think I will. Stay just like that."
Robert does, the fuzziness of submission creeping up so much faster this time. Chad hasn't even touched him yet. Hasn't lifted a finger to wrestle the fight out of him. It's strange.
He closes his eyes, just listening to the movements happening behind him. A rustle of fabric. Silence.
The click of a phone camera gets him to glare over his shoulder, the flush blazing hot on his face. "Chad!"
"Relax, bitch, like I'd ever let anyone else see you like this. It's just for me." Chad is still holding up his phone, then seems to register there might be actual upset here. He pauses awkwardly. They're still figuring out how to do– whatever they're doing now without actually hurting each other. "You can go through them later and delete them if you want."
Robert takes a settling breath, looking away. "...Fine."
"Great. Spin that flat ass of yours around and pose for me." With that settled, Chad is immediately back to irritatingly smug.
Robert grumbles but turns around. He moves to fix the strap that had fallen, but freezes at a disapproving noise from Chad.
"Leave that where it is. Makes you look even sluttier." Chad waits, impatient, for him to do something. Despite Robert's clear lack of sexy posing, he does hear the camera click a few times. He rolls his eyes, and rolls up off the bed, the motion smooth and predatory. "Fine, you wanna act like a bitch, I'll treat you like one. Get on your knees. Hands behind your back."
This is more normal, the push and pull. Chad the unstoppable force and Robert the immovable object. At least until Chad gets his hands on him, because even his stubbornness is no match for meta strength.
If Robert gives in a little too easily at the push of broad, warm hands on his shoulders this time, Chad doesn't say anything, but the quirk of his eyebrow means he probably noticed. He sinks to his knees on the carpet, hard glare still locked on Chad's face even as he folds his arms behind him.
Chad just chuckles, a thumb running over the crease in his brow. "I can't take that look seriously right now. I've never seen you this red before. Didn't think it'd get to you this bad."
The brown eyes glaring up at Chad shift to the side as a hand, short two fingers, trails over his flushed cheek. "I didn't think it would either." He begrudgingly admits.
The hand grips his chin, thumb pressing into his mouth and pinning his tongue down. A little light on the phone flickers on; Chad is recording. "You like dressing up for me like this, Mecha Bitch?" With his thumb keeping him from speaking, Robert can only glare up at the camera. "I should make you wear this under your shitty little polo and khakis at work every day. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd be bitching in my ear like usual, but we'd both know as soon as we get back here, you'll be on your knees again. 'Cause you're my pretty little toy."
A low, garbled sound escapes him without his permission, the iron grip on his jaw keeping him from doing anything to muffle it. Chad grins meanly, the temperature in the room spiking a few degrees. "Look how fucking wet you are already." He breathes out, and Robert whimpers as Chad's foot nudges against the front of the thong. He's right, the silk is clinging to his cock now, which had gone from a half chub to achingly hard sometime around when Chad pulled out his phone. "You soaked your little panties, Bob Bob. I've barely even touched you."
Trying to actually say words is just going to embarrass him more like this, but glaring is about as effective. Which is to say, not at all. Fucking bastard.
"I can't take that look seriously when you're being such a good boy for me, Bobbo." Chad taunts, thumb finally retreating from his mouth, wiping his own spit on his chin. "I didn't even have to tie you this time."
Robert roughly swallows back the saliva that had started to pool in his mouth. He doesn't have a snappy reply for that; trying to think of one feels a little like swimming upstream just now.
The silence hangs, and there's a shift behind Chad's eyes. Similar to the look he gets when it's time to improvise on a call. The light on the phone turns off and Chad moves to place it on the bedside table.
"Get up. Lay on the bed." Robert's knees twinge a little as he gets to his feet. Chad tsks as he moves to lay against the pillows though. "Not like that. I'm gonna fuck your mouth, but I want to be able to see you. Lay with your head near the side of the bed."
Robert shudders and adjusts his position accordingly, laying on his back sideways on the bed. Chad practically purrs in satisfaction, sliding a hand under the breezy fabric of his tank from the top, his fingers only just not hot enough to burn as they pinch his nipple. Robert grunts, his cock twitching against the wet silk encasing it.
Chad sighs. "You're so fucking pretty, baby."
The petname rings in his ears, his fingers digging into the soft sheets. That's not fair; Chad usually waits until he's further down to start pulling that one out. The hand on his chest hauls him back a few inches until his head is hanging over the side of the bed, and fingers thread through his hair, tugging until he lets his head fall back. It's not the most comfortable position. That's kind of the point, though. Chad's groin is just about the only thing he can see other than the wall, now. A little of his tits if he tries to look further up.
"Two taps if you need a breath, three if you need me to stop." Chad lays out the rules. Waits. The fingers in his hair tighten. "Bitch, I need an answer."
"Got it. Two for yellow, three for red." The grip loosens, knuckles rubbing against his scalp. The affection tangles against something in his chest, the same thing that shudders and whines when Chad calls him baby.
"Good. Remember that. I don't want your normie ass passing out on me because you didn't tap out when you needed to. Now open your fucking mouth and stay still." Robert obeys, and the room is too warm for him to actually feel cold when Chad's hands pull away, but somehow there's still a chill left behind. He knows exactly where they go, all he can do is watch them as they shove Chad's pants and boxers down in one hurried movement. A little tell of how impatient Chad is getting, how much this is getting to him too.
He breathes in and out through his nose, relaxing his throat as Chad pushes the tip of his cock into his mouth. The angle is strange and unfamiliar; while he's normally pretty proud of what he can do with his mouth, it takes them a few tries to figure out the right angle. Chad doesn't rush him, though; if anything, he takes advantage of the slower pace.
That's another difference; any time in the past he's had his mouth fucked, the most touch he'd gotten in return had been a hand in his hair. Like this, Chad's hands can wander all over him, and there's nothing he can do but take it. Every sense is overwhelmed by him– when his eyes are open, all he can see is the underside of Chad's cock as it slowly thrusts in and out of his mouth. His musk and cologne fills Robert's nostrils. All he can hear are his own strangled, wet sounds and Chad's voice, his little grunt whenever his cock sinks in another half an inch. His taste, of course, lingers on Robert's tongue. And his hands... those fucking hands. His touch is always on the warm side, but he's keeping it at a consistent heat now, just on the edge of painful.
"Do you have any idea how you look right now?" Chad groans, letting his nails rake over the scars on Robert's chest as his cock draws back out, leaving his moan unmuffled. He'd learned quick which ones needed more pressure, which ones to avoid touching. That a little extra heat always helped where sensation was dulled. Given that he thrusts right back in, finally at the perfect angle to slip into his throat, he knows he's not expected to reply. "Fuck, there we go. Just take it. That's all you have to do."
Robert lets his eyes flutter closed at the low words. Even with his hands free, he really can't do much like this. Even some of his usual tricks don't really work the same from this angle; it's kind of all he can do to keep himself in just the right position for Chad to thrust into. Nothing else is expected of him right now.
Fingers trail gently over his straining throat, down the line of his chest. "Remember the taps." That's his warning before Chad starts to fuck his throat in earnest, making Robert take all of him in until his sack bumps against his nose. He pulls only halfway out before thrusting in again, groaning above him. The hands over his chest never stop for a moment, one set of fingers grinding the silk against a nipple while the other slides underneath the soft fabric to burn a mark into his hip, the jolt of pain making him choke around the next thrust in. "I know you can take more than that." He chides, but the thrusts ease up a little.
Robert's fingers dig into the sheets so hard with the effort to maintain his position, to not move, that they start to ache. Another burn on his thigh makes him tremble, spit sliding from his mouth down his face.
He sinks.
There's a sound of approval above him. "There we go, baby. Fucking gorgeous."
He starts losing track of time after that. The world disappears into heat and touch and safe dark, bright jolts of pain and the thick cock in his throat. The silk brushing against him a constant undertone. He can breathe through his nose for the most part, but his eyes start to tear, everything gets more messy and breathing gets harder. The dizziness of lack of oxygen mingles with the light-headedness of submission, and it's almost too late; he almost does exactly the thing Chad most did not want him to do.
But he remembers, smacks his palm against the mattress twice, and Chad immediately pulls out with a rushed curse. Robert coughs and heaves a breath, warm hands soothing over his shoulder, through his hair.
"Shit, you good? You need to stop?" Chad fusses, and Robert shakes his head, eyes closed as a thumb rubs some of the spit off his face. He tapped twice. That means just a break. He just needs a moment. "Want to change position?"
Words escape him; he just whines and shakes his head again, opening hazy brown eyes and reaching a hand out to grasp at the back of Chad's thigh. Try and pull him back in. The hand on his face snags his wrist, pushing it back to the bed. Gentle, but firm. He sighs, sinks back into position.
"Alright. You're doing so good, baby, you did exactly what I asked you to." He could swear there used to be a mocking undertone in Chad's voice when he said things like that before, but he can't find it now. Not that he's looking too hard. He can't read the look Chad is giving him right now, but there's something soft about it. Something hungry. Their eyes lock for a long moment, and then Chad breaks it with a grunt, jerking Robert's head back into place by the hair. He groans, not even trying to hold the sound back.
"Stupid cow eyes. You look like a baby deer or some shit." Chad mutters nonsensically as he guides his cock back into Robert's mouth. They find their rhythm again. "You gonna come with my cock down your throat? Bet I won't even have to touch you, you're already so close."
It's true; heat has settled below his stomach, the muscles there clenching tight in anticipation. Chad's hand settles over his neck. Just holding him there. "Fuck, I can feel myself in your throat."
Something about that just pushes him over the edge, his body shaking and trembling, hips writhing on the bed, his release caught by the silk still trapping his cock. The sight of it seems to do it for Chad, who follows him right after, pulling out enough to paint his release over Robert's mouth instead of shooting it directly down his throat.
Robert dutifully swallows it down with a throaty hum.
"Fuck, Robert. You're insane." Chad breathes out, laughing. A hand cradles the back of his head, lifting it up. Another wraps around his shoulder, guiding him to lay on the bed properly, against the pillows. He lets it happen, his body buzzing in the fuzzy aftermath. He closes his eyes, hearing Chad's bare feet on the carpet as he pads across the room. The bathroom door opens, the sink runs. More footsteps. A weight settling next to him on the bed.
A warm, wet cloth wipes at his face. Robert is still floating, unable and unwilling to protest the gentle clean-up. Rather, he presses into the touch with a contented sigh.
"I hope you're not tapping out on me already. I still haven't gotten to fully admire the view from behind." Chad chuckles, fingers brushing through Robert's hair.
"Jus' feels nice." Robert mumbles. His voice is wrecked. "I can take more."
Chad snorts. "Figured you'd say that." His weight on the bed shifts, fingers tugging at the thin strands of the thong at his hips. Robert lifts them obligingly. Chad doesn't pull it all the way off, just down his thighs enough that he can run the warm washcloth over his cock. He shivers, still a little oversensitive, and hears the grin on Chad's lips. "Yeah, those are fucking ruined."
Robert hums in acknowledgement, eyes cracking open just a bit. Sure enough, Chad's got that smug little grin. He probably deserves it, after he did actually make Robert come without touching his cock. "Why're you cleaning me up if you're just gonna make me dirty again?" He drawls.
Chad scoffs. "Because you're up in the fucking clouds right now, Bobbo. Gonna need you to come back down to earth more before round two kicks off." The dirty washcloth is thrown to the side. Robert doesn't see or particularly care where to; it's Chad's bedroom, if he wants to throw it on the floor to deal with later, that's his prerogative. There's probably a hamper, though.
Fingers run through his hair again, knuckles rubbing against his scalp, and he practically melts into the touch. Doesn't even mind Chad's strange fascination with petting him right now.
Probably good evidence towards that whole being up in the stratosphere thing. He hears an amused huff from nearby, and an arm slides over his shoulders, pulling him in to lay against Chad's chest. He willingly goes, giving a deep sigh. The asshole still has his shirt on.
"Have you been Pooh Bearing it this whole time?" Robert asks, incredulous. The fingers in his hair tug in reproach.
"Shut the fuck up, Bobert."