#chobby

He's about to download Grindr or find a club or something to get whatever the hell is happening out of his system when he walks straight into Bobby coming out of the shower. It would be a lot less awkward if they weren't both in towels and if Chimney hadn't just been thinking about sucking Bobby's dick.

"Sorry," he says quickly.

"All good," Bobby says, and they do the trying to get out of each other's way dance for a moment.

When Bobby grabs Chimney's biceps and steers him to one side, Chimney feels how strong and firm and calloused his hands are and looks up at him quickly. Bobby's watching him with his brows drawing together like he's trying to figure something out.

"Sorry," he says again, his eyes darting to Bobby's chest--fuck--before he scoots by and gets into the shower stall. In the stall, he looks at the ceiling and silently curses God before looking at the floor and doing the same to Satan just to cover his bases.

--

Chimney does bring Bobby a milkshake after a shitty call where Bobby made every right decision and bad shit still happened. He's on the roof, and Chimney sits in the lawn chair next to him and holds out the shake.

"Malted chocolate, extra syrup, little bit of whip," he says.

Bobby takes it, his fingers brushing Chimney's. "Thanks. There bourbon in it?"

Chimney grins and looks over at him. "Are you allowed to joke about that?"

"I'm uniquely allowed to joke about it," Bobby says, taking the paper off the end of the straw and slurping the milkshake. "Don't worry, I don't mean it. Much."

They sit in silence, drinking their shakes, and then a hand settles on the back of Chimney's shoulder and makes him jump.

"Sorry," he says. "Got lost in thought."

"Uh-huh," Bobby says, sounding like he doesn't believe him. "Are we good?"

Chimney flushes and shrugs. "Why wouldn't we be?"

Bobby makes a considering noise and pops the straw back in his mouth.

--

Chimney is in the shower, trying to drown himself under the spray before he goes home. He tries shocking himself with cold water, but he's still half-hard. It's better than completely hard, at least.

Bobby had wanted to reminisce about an old call from when he first started, but he'd been doing it in the middle of changing and hadn't been wearing a shirt the entire fucking time.

Bastard.

Chimney sighs and turns the water off. He grabs for his towel, but it's not hanging from the hook outside the stall.

"Dammit," he mutters. He pokes his head out of the curtain and sees it draped over the bench. "Fucking great."

He's about to dart out and grab it when he hears soft humming and the slap of sandaled feet. Bobby rounds the corner with a towel around his waist and freezes when he sees Chimney halfway out of the stall.

"You mind grabbing that?" Chimney asks, pointing to the towel.

Bobby tears his eyes away from Chimney to the bench. "Uh, sure."

He picks it up, and Chimney holds out a hand, expecting him to toss it. But Bobby walks right up to him and hands it to him.

It's not helping.

"Thanks," Chimney says, wiping his face so water will stop rolling into his eyes.

Bobby nods, and Chimney notices that he keeps looking down.

Sure enough, there's a gap at the top of where Chimney is holding the curtain against himself, and the base of his dick is clearly visible.

He looks up, ready to make a joke, but Bobby doesn't look like he's in a joking mood. He doesn't look mad, shocked, or uncomfortable.

"Oh," Chimney says, and Bobby blinks and looks at him, almost panicked.

Chimney drops the curtain and tosses the towel over the divider, and then he's just naked in front of Bobby. Which is a risk, but it's maybe not as big of one as Chimney would've thought.

Bobby backs him into the stall, and there's a tense moment before their mouths crush together. Chimney reaches down to tug Bobby's towel away, because it's only fair, but a hand on his wrist stops him.

"Not here," Bobby mutters, stepping back.

"Seriously?" Chimney asks incredulously, because he's hard as a fucking rock right now.

Bobby gives him an equally incredulous look and gestures to the room they're in. "Yes."

Chimney groans and turns on the cold water again.

--

His apartment is closer, which he's eternally grateful for, because Chimney feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin. Then he worries that Bobby isn't going to show, but there's a heavy knock on his door while Chimney is hanging his hoodie up.

He yanks the door open, and Bobby charges in just like in the shower, kicking the door shut behind him. Chimney pulls at his shirt and his jeans and feels Bobby doing the same as they kiss, and this is probably the worst idea. He'll blame it on his still healing head injury. There was that guy who got a spike through his head and turned into an asshole, so Chimney can definitely write off bad decisions like fucking his boss and friend.

Bobby doesn't have that same excuse, but Bobby also hauls Chimney up and carries him to his bedroom, so Bobby can do whatever the fuck he wants.

"Cannot believe you," Bobby says against his mouth, pulling Chimney's boxers down.

"Me? You," Chimney protests, wiggling out of his boxers and going for Bobby's. He's long and thick, and Chimney feels his mouth water.

"You started it."

"Fuck you, you started it." Chimney grabs one of Bobby's pecs, hoping he gets the point he's trying to make. Except then all he wants to do is suck on it, so he shifts down and pulls Bobby up and gets his mouth on his nipple.

Rather than continue the argument--point for Chimney--Bobby curls his hand around the back of Chimney's head and holds him in place while he rocks against Chimney's cock. Chimney moans around his nipple and thrusts up against him, wrapping his arm around Bobby's waist. He tries to use leverage to roll them, but Bobby bears his fucking weight down.

"Nope," Bobby says, shifting down a little and brushing his lips over Chimney's. "Not yet."

"Is this you on a power trip because you're my boss or because you like being in charge in bed?" Chimney asks, because he's an idiot.

Bobby raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Can't it be both?"

Chimney lets his head thump back against his bed. "Fuck, that shouldn't be hot."

When Bobby manhandles him up the bed and starts sucking Chimney's cock, he wants to thrust despite how hard his hips are being held down--maybe because they're being held down. He swears and pants and moans, twisting his fingers gently in Bobby's hair and his duvet, trying to keep it together.

"Break, break, break," he chants, because he's not going to cum first or this early. Bobby at least needs to be close, and he's nowhere near it. "Get up here and kiss me."

Bobby moves up and kisses him, hitching Chimney's leg up against his hip on the way, and Chimney internally debates how hard it'll be to walk all this back if he bottoms for his boss. Probably pretty hard, really, but Bobby's already had his dick in his mouth, so they probably crossed that line around then anyway.

"What?" Bobby asks, grinding against him.

"I'm pretty sure I want you to fuck me," Chimney decides.

Bobby freezes and looks at him like he's crazy. "That's not really the level of enthusiasm I'm hoping for, Chim."

"Look, I'm trying to figure out where the line is, and I'm pretty sure it's way the fuck back there," he says, waving vaguely toward some invisible line. "So, yeah, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me until I can't move, fuck me with your big dick, make me fucking feel it. Sir."

The next kiss is biting and aggressive, and Chimney digs his nails into Bobby's back for a moment before he carefully pushes him away and stretches toward the nightstand on the left. It's the one with the lube and the condoms, and he's almost there when Bobby gets there first with his freaky long reach.

"Stomach," Bobby says, dropping a kiss on his neck.

Chimney rolls onto his stomach and sticks his ass out, resting his head on his folded arms. He hasn't been fucked by a guy in a couple years, has usually been the one doing the fucking, but he's willing to put his faith in Bobby.

A few minutes later, he's ready to murder Bobby with his bare hands and throw his body in the ocean, because Bobby is a fucking tease. He's working his fingers into Chimney so slowly that it's starting to feel like a cruel joke, and Chimney is panting against a pillow he'd grabbed for emotional support and trying to fuck himself back on his fingers, except Bobby holds his hip or moves his hand back instead. When he'd tried touching himself, his hand got slapped away and briefly pinned to his lower back.

"Please, fuck, please," he begs.

Bobby kisses his back and rubs the head of his cock over Chimney's taint and hole, the condom already on. "All you had to do was ask."

Chimney almost flings the pillow back at him, but then Bobby is pushing in slowly. This is a slow Chimney appreciates, because he feels like he's getting split in half. In a good way, but it's still overwhelming.

"Oh, fuck," he gasps, twisting back against Bobby and feeling the slow burn and stretch of him.

For a brief, wild moment, he worries that he's more into this than Bobby. He twists his torso a little so he can look back at him, and Bobby's looking down at where he's fucking him like he's looking into the face of God. When Chimney twists a little more and pushes back a bit, Bobby squeezes his hip and shakes his head, catching his gaze.

He looks like he's hanging on by a thread, and Chimney wants to see it snap.

He fucks himself back onto Bobby all at once, and it forces this weird exhaled, choked moan out of him because Bobby has a fucking pornstar dick. The only word to describe Chimney at the moment is impaled.

Which, for him, is kind of funny. He actually has to hide his smile against his bicep.

He stops smiling when Bobby presses up against his back and starts fucking him hard enough that Chimney knows he's going to have a hell of a time sitting the next day. He fucks back against him, wanting more of it. When Bobby wraps an arm around him and turns his head so they can kiss and moan against each other's mouths, Chimney reaches back to hold his head in place.

They fuck like that until Bobby pulls out, sweating and panting, and urges Chimney onto his side. He spoons up behind him, lifts one of his legs, and fucks in a lot harder than Chimney's ever gotten it in this position. He almost rolls forward a little with it, feeling like his body's going to give up before Bobby does. The guy's almost fifty, he shouldn't be able to do this to someone.

"You gonna cum for me?" Bobby asks against his ear, squeezing Chimney's pec.

"M-might," Chimney chokes out. He twists a little to kiss him and whines against his mouth when he has to reach down to jerk himself off or he might scream. There's a string of precum connecting his cock to his thigh, because Bobby's had him leaking since he got his fingers in him.

"Sounds like I'm not doing my job right," Bobby says, slowing down like a fucking sadist. "Or you didn't hear me right. I asked: are you gonna cum for me?"

Chimney bites his lip and nods, feeling like he could actually start crying. "Ye--fuck--y-yes, sir."

Bobby picks up his previous pace again and the arm under him moves up, his hand going from Chimney's pec to his throat. He's not squeezing, but Chimney wouldn't hate it if he did.

Fuck, he'd let Bobby do a lot of stuff to him.

It's actually Bobby who starts to cum first, but the sudden heavy, driving force of his thrusts is what gets Chimney over the edge.

When Bobby rolls away behind him, Chimney rolls onto his own back and stares at the ceiling.

"Mutually assured destruction if either of us talks," he decides.

"Absolutely," Bobby agrees, still panting.

Chimney reaches across his own body to hold out his chest, and Bobby huffs out a laugh before shaking it.

Then he gets yanked into another bone melting kiss, and Chimney groans against his mouth.

"Get some rest," Bobby murmurs.

Chimney grins and nods, understanding the implication of more after. "You got it, boss. Also, I'll be adding a testimonial to your dating profile after this."