Woof🥀

"Well, how sweet is that," Jack whispers, kisses lightly at Robby's temple, his cheek, his scruffy jaw. "M'here now, brother. Letting me take care of you, yeah? Mhm, does it feel so good?"

"So fucking good," Robby hiccups, slumps to rest his sweaty forehead on Jack's shoulder, hips twitching as he tries to fight of release. It pools in his gut with each tug of Jack's fist, squeezing him just right, taking him apart. Jack, it's Jack, Jack's fist, Jack's shoulder, Jack's scent filling his nose. All around him, encompassing him, near overwhelming.

There's a safety in it, in giving in, when it's Jack. Jack who knows him better than anyone else, now in every way, body and mind. Jack who he kissed for the first time ten minutes ago after wanting and wanting for so long. Jack who he's crying and pleading for, who he's clinging to, who's making him feel so, so fucking good.

"M'gonna cum, Jack, please," Robby whimpers, weak in his motions, Jack doing all the work as he keeps pumping his fist, running his thumb over Robby's sensitive tip to make him squirm, make him moan.

"So cum, Mike," Jack coaxes, ever steady, ever good to him. "Let yourself feel so good for me."

Robby shudders in a silent cry as he spills over Jack's fist, throbbing through his orgasm as it steals his breath. It's one of the best he's had, he's sure, all-consuming and incandescent, because of the man who gave it to him.

"Are you with me?" Jack is checking, a little concerned, naturally worried in the way he always is. Like Robby is glass, eggshell, fragile and breakable if Jack handles him too rough. Robby can't blame him. It's how he often feels. As much as they hide from each other, it doesn't really work. Two broken men who run their thumbs over each other's scars.

"..Yeah," Robby manages, hoarse, sinking against Jack with weak knees. Jack guides them both to bed where Robby collapses on top of him, mindlessly kissing and kissing at the dip of his collarbone, tears dripping onto pale, freckled skin.

"Wow, if I knew an orgasm was all it took to make you so sweet and easy, I'd have jerked you off a long time ago," Jack teases, fond, blinking down at him with sparkling eyes. He looks lighter, too, matching the way Robby feels. Like all they needed was to give into this, whatever it is, to touch and hold and take.

Robby scoffs, grumbles something pissy. Orders Jack to sit up and cheekily calls him a "good boy" when he obeys, grinning ear to ear like he wasn't just whining in Jack's ear five minutes ago. Takes off his prosthetic with reverent hands, massages some of the ache out as Jack grunts quietly, pretends like it doesn't hurt as much as it does.

"You push yourself too hard," Robby says, quiet.

"You're one to talk," Jack retorts, grinning easy, shrugging it off.

Robby shakes his head, sighs heavy, crawls back over to lay on top of Jack again, rest in a way he hasn't for years. Fully, wholly relaxed. Safe. "Do as I say, not as I do."

Jack slides a hand into Robby's hair, scratching at his scalp like it soothes him just as much, like Robby's some sort of therapy dog. Robby could purr with how much he loves it. "If you get better, I will," Jack says.