Flambae’s back pressed hard against the wooden bed frame, fingers digging into the soft cushion.
He watched Robert climb onto the mattress, knees sinking into the fabric on either side of his hips.
"You know, we don't have to do this if you don't wanna," Flambae muttered, the words barely escaping his throat.
Robert smiled. Slow, sweet, and completely fake. It was the kind of smile he’d flash right before doing something extremely stupid, something everyone warned him not to do.
Robert leaned in close until their faces were inches apart, the scent of his cheap soap that Flambae normally hated but somehow loved right now was clinging to him.
"But I do want to," Robert whispered, his breath ghosting over Flambae’s ear. "You deserve nice things, Chad."
The use of his real name sent a shudder through Flambae’s entire body. He could feel the heat building under his skin. And If he didn’t control it, the cotton of his shirt might begin to smoke.
Robert felt that warmth radiating off him as he worked open the button of Flambae’s jeans. To Robert and his hands that were perpetually cold, his blood seemed to run a few degrees too cold, the heat was a comfort. The warmth seeped into his fingers as he tugged the denim down over lean hips, followed by the soft waistband of black boxers.
Flambae’s cock sprang free, already half hard. Robert let out a low laugh, a small, almost amused chuckle.
Flambae’s face burned hotter. He turned his head to the side, suddenly very interested at the cracked plaster of the wall. "Stop… fucking laughing at me and get to it already."
"Sorry," Robert murmured, but he didn't sound sorry at all. Because he wasn't.
He pressed the pad of his thumb against the slick tip, then slowly slid his hand down the length, feeling the vein throb beneath his palm. "I'm just… flattered, I guess." He stroked up, then down again into a lazy rhythm. "If I knew I had this effect on you, I would've made a move sooner."
"Ye—well… Well, I—" Flambae’s retort died in his throat as his hips bucked involuntarily, pushing his cock deeper into Robert’s grip. "Fuckkkkkk…"
Robert wanted to smirk. He wanted to say some stupid, smug fucking quip about how eager Flambae looked. But the truth was, the sight, the feel, the sheer reality of Chad coming undone beneath him was getting to him too.
With a soft groan, Robert bent forward and took the head of Chad’s cock into his mouth, his lips stretching around the girth. Then he sank down, taking half its length in one smooth motion. Chad was not small, and the fact Robert could take so much so easily was a testament to a certain kind of expertise.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT—" Chad’s hips jerked forward, driving himself deeper into the wet, sucking heat. He caught himself, about to mutter an apology for the roughness, when Robert looked up.
He fucking looked up at him.
And smirked. Around the cock in his mouth, his eyes crinkled with unmistakable, devious satisfaction.
God, Flambae hated him right now. Hated the way that look shot straight to his cock, hated the way it made his control burn into nothing.
It got worse. Robert hollowed his cheeks, creating a perfect, tight vacuum. He swirled his tongue along the sensitive underside as he began to pull back up, slow and deliberate, the flat of his tongue pressing hard against him.
Chad groaned. "Fuckkkk, Bobert… You're gonna fucking kill me here…"
But Robert was just beginning. It was never just simple bobbing. He lavished attention with his mouth, licking stripes from root to tip, then sucking hard like he was trying to suck Chad's fucking soul out of him.
He took him deep, until his nose pressed into the hair at the base, his throat working around the intrusion, then retreat to swirl his tongue around the swollen head, tasting the bitter-salt pre-cum that beaded there incessantly. For what his mouth couldn’t cover, his hand worked in tandem, stroking in time, his fingers tight and knowing.
The dual sensation was maddening. The wet, hot suction of his mouth, the rough friction of his hand. Flambae’s hands fisted in the bedsheets, his knuckles white.
"Bob-bob… I’m close… fuck, I’m so close," he gasped, the words slurred.
Robert hummed in response, the vibration traveling straight up Chad’s dick like an electric current. That was all it took.
Flambae’s back arched clear off the bed, a strangled cry tearing from his throat. "ROBERT!"
The first pulse hit Robert’s tongue, hot and thick. Robert swallowed instinctively, but the force and volume were overwhelming. The second spurt followed instantly, then a third, flooding his mouth, spilling past his lips as he struggled to keep up. He could taste it, the intense, musky tang of it.
Chad lost himself completely, fucking up into his mouth with short, jerky thrusts as he came drove a thrill through Robert.
Flambae’s whole body seized, then went boneless against the mattress as the final waves shuddered through him. Guttural sounds punched out of him with each jet—"Nngh! Ah! Fuck!" until he was spent, collapsing back, chest heaving, skin sheened with a fine sweat that steamed slightly in the cool air.
Robert pulled off slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a string of pearly white still connecting his lips to the softening cock for a moment before it broke. He looked down at Flambae, who was utterly wrecked, eyes glazed and unfocused.
For a long moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing. Then Robert leaned forward again, kissing Flambae's cheek.
Chad groaned, wiping it with his hand. "Fucking gross. Don't kiss me after I shot my cum inside you."
Robert laughed. Laying down beside him. His throat was gonna be sore tomorrow. And the team would probably have a good guess on why. But it was worth it.
Ermmmmm.. This was bcz of @flamgayagenda .. Blame them for this....
