The Art Landfill

But that was supposedly just another one of the symptoms. Shellshocked, the upper brass declared, although not until after he had continued to fight to see the German surrender. Cracked in the head, his sergeant father asserted when he returned home with nothing but a sneer on his face at the slightest mention of the glory of war. Only his mother hadn’t diagnosed him or frankly said anything at all, at least not to his face. Her look of abject grief, as though she was sharing her dining table with a ghost, hurt more than his father’s disapproving, if barely hidden, pride that he hadn’t managed to outrank him even in wartime. 

The blankets are tangled hot and sweaty between Luke’s trembling legs. Two soft pillows were tucked under his hips early on, keeping the pressure off of his lower back, while still raising his ass up like a gift. 

He feels like a gift, which is the craziest part. Not a burden. Not broken. Not with how gently six hands trail over his arms, and legs, petting at his flushed, sweaty skin like they really don’t mind how inexperienced he is or how gross he probably looks in the heat of the room.  

“Please.” His voice cracks. 

“Ssh, we’ve got you.” Ray murmurs. He’s laying on his side, chest pressed flush with Luke’s left arm, gently stroking his thumb over the scars on the younger man’s back. His lower half remains still, even as Luke jerks him off, but the deep, shaking quality to his voice gives away how affected he is. “We’ve got you, baby boy.”

Jackson presses sweet kisses to Luke’s right shoulder, and shudders when the brunette remembers to start twisting his other wrist again, stroking the guy’s cock with mindless, unsteady fingers. 

He’s never touched anyone else’s dick before and now he’s got one in each hand and another grinding off onto the mattress between his legs. 

At first everything was normal. Bob got carried away fast and shifted his attention to the ingredients printed on the bag of marshmallows. John on the other hand, well. He was able to keep his focus longer than Bob, still he wasn't free of the guilt of checking his phone from time to time or getting up for the sake of the movement.

Let’s say all of that was forgotten exactly 11 minutes and 15 seconds into the movie when the character Miles Miller appeared. Bob could feel it underneath his head. How John's muscles begin to tense and when he looks up a wave of jealousy crashes over Bob because the hearteyes John makes at the moment are reserved for him, not some boy in a movie. He wants to say something but Bob being Bob he rather waits to see how this unfolds so he can tease John later about it.

As the movie continues none of them leave the couch once. Bob was busy catching every little shuffle and hitched breath from John. Then finally the credits start to roll and Bob grabs the remote to shut the TV off.

"So, you liked it? Oh my god John, are you crying?" It was just a single tear that rolled down John's cheek but Bob saw it, as clear as day.

"I’m not crying, I just. I don't know. It was a good movie, okay?," then he murmurs under his breath "And I think Miles deserved better." Caught.

Bob moves from his position and straddles John's lap. "He deserved better huh?" Uninvoltury John thrust his hips up just the slightest giving Bob the confirmation to what he suspected the whole time.

"It's just, he reminded me of you."

"Because he is an unstable, drug addicted pervert?"

"What? No, he is so cute, always trying to make it right for everyone."

"And you want me to do that? Always being at your service? Your cute little bellboy huh?"

The slow grunt and the forming boner gives John away immediately and Bob can’t help himself but giggle about it.

"Stop being such a tease. It was just a movie." Bob brings his mouth right next to John's ear, whispering with this sultry voice that drives John crazy every time.

"I can be that for you. If you want. I owe you."

"You- you would do that?" Bob simply nods, praying to every deity there is, that John says yes. With a shaky exhale John's body relaxes.

"Yes I would like to uhm try that." Bob takes John's face in his hands and kisses him with that stupid grin he always wears when he gets what he wants. Then he is up before John can hold him down.

"Don’t move. I’m getting my notebook!"

As Bob leaves the room John scratches the back of his head, wondering if he accidently created a monster.

-------------

Since they couldn’t just rent out a hotel for this they waited until the next time they had the tower all to themself again. With his empty suitcase in hand, John corrents the tie of his suit one last time and makes his way over to the kitchen counter. He taps the bell and in comes Bob, with his hair slicked to the side and a faint of rouge on his cheeks.

From wherever he ordered the burnt orange blazer, they did an amazing job. It even has the small applications stitched on it.

"Welcome to the El Royale. What can I do for you Sir?" How is John supposed to be all rough with Bob when looking at him like an absolute ray of sunshine?

"Walker. I called for a reservation yesterday."

"Ah yes Mister Walker I remember. The El Royale is a bi-state establishment, you can choose between the sunshine state of California or the more mysterious state of Nevada."

"What is the difference?"

"Well California has the more comfortable beds while Nevada costs two dollars less per night." Shit John forgot which one he is supposed to pick, luckily Bob catches upon it instantly. "If I’m allowed, Sir. I would recommend the California side to you. The beds are worth the price."

"One room, one night on the California side then." John takes out his wallet and shoves the money over the counter, never breaking eye contact with Bob.

"Great! Here is your key and I need you to sign with your full name in the ledger." John does as he is told, writing his name down in Bob's notebook, adding a little heart at the end.

"I think I didn’t catched your name sweetie."

"My name is Miles, Miles Miller but for the time of your stay it is Miles to you. Mister Walker may I ask what brought you to our beautiful establishment."

"Well Miles. I work for the local newspaper and we are about to start a small series to highlight all the hotels that fell under the radar of the audience. I can’t wait to discover all of the secrets the El Royale holds." Bob's gaze drops to the floor and he fiddles with his fingers.

"I guess it would do the El Royale good. Some promo. Let me show you your room now."

John bends down to pick up his suitcase but Bob is faster.

"No need for that. Here at the El Royale the customer is king."

In his room, John's actual bedroom, he lets himself fall on the bed to test it.

"Feels good to me, enough space for..."

"For what, Sir?"

"Sleeping, Miles."

"Of course. I didn't mean to… anyway. Just use this bell if you need me. I will be right at your service."

He places a handbell on the bed right next to John and heads off. Then John waits a few minutes to ring the first time. With fast steps Bob is back in the room a little out of breath.

"Sir?"

"Miles, what has a man got to do to get a drink?"

"We have all sorts of liquor here. Gin, Tequila, Rum-"

"As long as it is strong I don’t care. And make it a double."

After a few minutes Bob puts the sliver tray with the glass on the table standing in the middle of the room.

"Anything else, Mister Walker?" John has already moved the glass to his mouth, pretending to be disgusted about it with a distorted face.

"Miles, come here." With a wiggle of his finger Bob comes closer with small and shaky steps.

"Is there something wrong with your drink?"

"This drink is warm."

"No that can’t be. The bottle sat in the fridge for days."

"So you are questioning what I’m saying?"

"Of course not Sir it’s just-" Bob does not get to end his defense. John cups his jaw in a tight grip and forces the liquor, or rather the apple juice, down his throat. Bob chokes immediately and his cheeks redden visibly under the rouge.

"Sir, I’m not allowed to drink alcohol when at work."

"Then you better put ice in the next one." He does, still he shakes as he observes John pouring the drink down in one go. "That, was way better. Good job, pretty thing."

"Thank you Sir, if you need anything else just-"

"Stay right where you are, Miles." And Bob does, with big doe as and if he just got caught at doing something he shouldn’t do. "Mister Walker?"

With big heavy struts John cages him against the wall, the action causes Bob to whimper with his lips pressed together. "You were such a good boy, getting me that drink, now your work is needed elsewhere."

John nods his head downward and Bob gasps at the implication. "Sir! We don’t do this here, there is a brothel down-"

"That is so sad to hear Miles. You said you would be at my service,” with one finger he tilts Bob's chin up.

"I wonder what management would think when someone tells them that their most hardworking clerk not only drinks but also takes drugs while being at work."

"How- how did you know that I-"

"Don't play dumb. Your pupils were blown the second I came in and I bet if I was to take your cute little uniform off I would find an injection spot, ain’t that right?" John squeezes Bob's elbow hard and he whimpers some more.

"But I’m catholic, I can't. I'm not allowed."

"Then you better start praying. I promise I will be fast." And with that he opens the fly of his suit pants and shoves Bob down onto his knees. "Please be careful, my uni-" poor Bob. John uses his chance and forces his rock hard cock in his mouth gathering a little salvia and then pushes all the way down to the back of his throat.

He fixtates Bobs head against the wall with his weight and fucks his mouth with brutal, deep thrusts. The vibration of Bob's moans almost let him come before he even gets a chance to take in the view beneath him, and what a sight it is.

"Who would have guessed that you are such a pretty crier Miles? Oh fuck you feel amazing."

John continues to grunt as he keeps using Bob's mouth. Not paying mind to the fact that he digs his nails in John's tights in a poor attempt to stop him.

Shortly before coming John buries his hands in Bob's scalp holding him in place. "Okay pretty boy you better not spill anything. You don’t want to ruin your cute little uniform right?"

With one last push forward and a deep, chestfilling growth he comes down Bob's throat who swallows it with a frown on his face and a sob. John lets his thumb glide over Bob's cheek to catch a tear only for him to lick the liquid off his finger with a dirty wink.

The look from Bob would have killed John right at the spot. Good thing that it is not Bob looking up at him. He pulls his pants back up and aims for the attached ensuite. Leaving behind a flushed and panting Bob.

"I hope dinner will be served soon Miles. I’m starving."

Before John can come back Bob is up and gone. In honesty John didn’t expect him to be back so fast. When he simply drops the tray, instead of gently placing it on the table John can’t hold back a chuckle.

"What got you all sour, pretty boy?"

"Enjoy your meal, Sir." Bob can’t really think that he is going to get away with that can he? Within the blink of an eye John drags him into his lap. It is quite adorable how Bob tries to put up a fight.

"Mister Walker, I have work to do."

"I know Miles and right now your work is here. I want you to keep me company while I eat and quit that pout, understand?" Bob lets out a huff and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"Fucking brat." As if he had all the time in the world John ate his dinner, setting his fork to the side every time he took a bite. He could feel how Bob grew more and more inpatient.

With his next reach he moves the fork up into Bob's direction, his face brushing the side of his neck very aware of the reaction it will get out of him.

"N-n no stop that, it tickles."

"I just want you to taste the delicious meal you cooked for me." With a second of hesitance Bob takes a bite in hopes that John would just stop then but of course he does not, repeating this torture again and again.

Relishing every single giggle and squirm it gets out of Bob. Ultimately he sets the fork aside and takes the game up to another level.

His hand holds half of Bob's face as he places the first firm kiss, Bob jolting immediately, trying to shuffle out of the grip without victory. "This is not appropriate, Mister Walker."

"But it seems like you’re enjoying it." Bob makes the mistake of letting his eyes wander to Johns who looks at him like he just hung the night sky for him and Bob just can’t hold back anymore. His own hands cup the collar of the white button down John is wearing pulling him in for a long, wet kiss.

For a couple of minutes everything around them disappears just the sloppy sounds and Bob's whines filling the room until John reminds him with a low chuckle why they are here.

"Oh fuck sorry I wasn’t supposed to do that. I will leave now." But he can't, John holds him down by his hips as if his life depends on it.

"No, pretty thing you ain’t running away from me." John's mouth is back on Bob's neck sucking and biting as Bob slowly becomes putty in his hands, the attitude he put up earlier almost gone. "Sir I need you to stop or or-"

"Or what Miles?"

"I want to inform you that I served in the military. I know how to defend myself even against you." The laugh coming out of John is humiliating and lets the pout on Bob's lips reappear.

"Yeah? Like earlier?" Bob's eyebrows frown and his right fist yields up, hitting John at the jaw , nothing he can’t handle, quite the opposite. The punch is a joke in comparison to what Bob is capable of.

"Is that all you got, pretty boy?" Bob attempts to land another and that is the opportunity John waited for. He snatches Bob's wrist, twits his own legs and in the matter of a heartbeat Bob is caged under him, laying on his belly.

"That was pretty lousy of you, one could get the idea that you are not even trying."

"Get your dirty hands off of me!" The smack is so sudden that Bob can’t do anything but gulp his adamsapple bobbing visibly.

"Where are your manners Miles? First you rail me up and now you're playing coy on me?" Another, harder smack causes Bob to choke out a breath, a tear landing on the bedsheet.

"Sir, please stop. It hurts."

"Unfortunately is that the point Miles." For a second John stops, waiting if Bob uses the safeword they settled with, it's not coming so he continues. Bob holds into the sheets for support, biting down hard on his bottom lip to not give their sinful play away.

After ten more John moves forward, pressing his bodyweight onto Bob who can feel the boner despite the fabrics.

"Can I go now? Sir?"

"Aw its actually really cute that you think that I’m done with you."

"I will. I will fill out a report. To the police."

"No you will not. Remember that I told you I would write an artical about this shady, run down place? Well that was a lie."

"What?"

"Oh, stupid thing. You know when you pay the right price, people talk. I know exactly what is going on inside those walls. I know your game Miles. So, if you want to keep this job, do what I say."

Bob huffs in defeat. "Yes Sir."

"Good boy," another smack "Now take your pants off for me."

Bob obeys with trembling fingers when he realizes that he has to poke his ass up to do so he sobs bitterly. John does the rest and tosses them on the floor.

"Wow you were hiding all that from me? What a shame." He cups Bob's ass in a tight squeeze. “Sir please, can’t I just do something else?"

"What you can do is keep your pretty mouth shut and take it. You don’t want the other guests to hear you right? Sluttying yourself out for me?"

"No Sir." John forces the grey briefs down to reveal Bob's giggly, slightly red ass and nearly collapses on top of him.

He catches Bob trying to hide his face in one of the pillows. "Nah ah ah Miles, I want to see you when I take you apart."

With a hand to Bob's neck he yanks him all the way up and maneuvers him over to the wardrobe.

The mirrored slide doors allow Bob's flushed, heated face a small cool down as it gets pressed against it.

With his free hand John manages to open the single button of the blazer while the buttons of the white dress shirt fly through the room.

The fact that Bob was now fully naked on display while John was still covered in his suit lets Bob shudder.

"Look at that, someone seems pretty excited here." There was no denying that Bob was painfully hard even as more tears streamed down his face.

"Sir. Just let me go. I will not tell anyone. I promise!"

John hits another smack in amusement. "Don’t be foolish Miles. I’m thinking about making this a regular thing, I usually have the weekends off."

The whine that came from Bob lets John stop yet again but as before no safe word.

John reaches his hand out "Spit." Bob complies at the command and feels his own salvia against his hole a second later. “It won’t hurt as bad when you just relax, pretty boy.” Instead of doing just that Bob clutches the cross pendant of the silver necklace John has missed the whole time and brabbles out prayers. "Father forgive me for I’m about to give myself over to sin."

"If you think that helps." John's pants and underwear hit the ground once more as he lines himself up with Bob's entrance. "Inyourmercyremembermelordbecauseofyourgoodness." Without further warning John moves his hips forward still holding Bob in place with one hand. "Oh god have mercy!" Bob cries out, jaw quivering taking in the burn and the pain and gets lost in it instantly.

With John bottomed out Bob's arms fall slack to his sides, only John's grip keeping him steady as he relentlessly begins to pound into him. The mirror fogs up under Bob's panting still John catches how he closes his eyes and puts an end to it.

Wrapping the hand used in Bob's hair around his throat which causes Bob to arch in the most beautiful way possible. "What is it now huh? You watched all those nasty people but can’t look at yourself? Pathetic."

One thing was for sure both of them could have stayed like this forever, but with all the foreplay they reached their highs sooner than anticipated. At some point John lets go of Bob's throat who falls back against the mirror. With flat hands he holds himself up as John focuses entirely on his hips. "You are so god damn tight. I can’t wait to book my next stay. Maybe I make it a whole week."

Since Bob has not a single word left in his brain he nods and his tongue slips out of his mouth. The sweat is clinging so present to them that it causes Bob's neatly groomed hair to slowly show the soft curls that usually frame his face so playfully. John has to actively shake his head to find back into the here and now. He takes up some speed, if Bob is not killing him then this god damn tie probably will.

"You are close pretty boy, aren’t you? All ready for me?" Bob only nods again which earns him a pretty hard smack on his bouncing ass. "Where are your manners?"

"Yes Sir, all ready for you. Please." John really wanted to drag this out just a little longer but Bob's pathetic beg sends him over the edge with a pressed grunt. Bob needs a second longer before he spills all over the mirror. "Such a naughty boy, you will have to clean that up later." The last sentence was supposed to erase the tension but it had the opposite effect.

As John begins to pull out Bob grinds his hips back tickling out a broken moan from John side. "No Bobby, we talked about this. No second round this time." Bob doesn’t stop his movements. "Please John I just want to feel you a little longer, please." John has to gather all his willpower to hold Bob in place "You can feel me after a warm shower, in bed, with cuddles how does that sound hm?" With the help of the mirror Bob and John make direct eyecontact and John notices how fucked out Bob looks. "Yeah cuddles. Cuddles sound good. Real good."

Now John pulls out for real and catches Bob right before he hits the ground. The second John lays down next to him Bob clings to him like a koala. John takes this to his advantage and inspects his writs and is relieved to not find any injuries. "You know you can’t hurt me. I’m the Sentry, I'm a god and blah blah blah."

"Yeah and you are also a man who makes really questionable life choices."

"Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, you barely lasted ten minutes even though I gave you a blowjob before, Mister Walker."

"Hey, don’t run your mouth."

"Or what? You gonna punish me? Why are you looking at me like that?"

With that John is on him again with another tickle attack Bob will not be able to escape so fast this time.