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Craig shifts beside him for the seven hundredth time and flicks his phone screen back on. Robert resists the urge to roll his eyes and light a cig, still remembering Craig’s uneasy look at them. Nothing must be there--just like every other single time--because his shoulders drop and he lets the phone drop into his lap with a frown.
“You know, if you keep looking for disaster, you’re bound to find one.”
“Wh--I’m sorry?” Craig looks bewildered as Robert guides the car off the road, knowing the trail well enough even in the dark.
“Buddy of mine did the same thing once. Went swimming in the ocean, was so damn scared of sharks he didn’t think about the dolphins. One came right up and bit his leg off. Damn near bled out all over my truck when I tried rushing him to the hospital. You look for trouble, you’re damn sure gonna find it somehow.”
He sees Craig’s face flash a mixture of emotions--fear and panic and confusion and something else that fits along those same lines. Robert does roll his eyes this time, side eyeing him with a small grin.
“I’m just joking.”
The “or am I?” falls flat and dies on his tongue at the sheer relief on Craig’s pretty face. There’s an awkward laugh as Robert stops the truck, killing the ignition and twisting to face him. Craig looks...caged. Like he’s actively trying not to reach for his phone now and it’s taking herculean effort.
Joseph flashes into his mind for a split second, pleading and keeping his voice low, eyes darting over towards Craig as he chases his kids.
“Robert, this much stress will kill him. Mat said he’s looking like he’ll crack any second now. Please--do something? I would but…”
But Robert knows all too well what Joseph’s version of ‘comfort’ is. And neither a Bible nor a sermon nor someone else trying to find happiness at the sake of yours is gonna help Craig out.
Which is why they’re here.
“The girls with their mom?”
“For the weekend, yeah. But if something happens, I--”
“This thing can go fast when it needs to. C’mon.” Robert climbs out of the cab, hearing Craig follow behind after a few seconds.
He drops the tailgate and props himself up on it, scooting back until Craig can fit in too. It doesn’t take long before the man’s eyes drift to the city below, lit up in beauty, the lighthouse in the distance a beacon to lock onto in the darkness.
It gets heavy for a minute. Silence falling thick and oppressive instead of the lightness he’s used to.
Robert gets the distinct impression it’s all coming from Craig. Stress and anxiety bleeding from his body, coloring the night an even darker black.
“This is...man, this is beautiful.”
“Yeah.” Robert leans his shoulders against the back window, crossing his arms with a smirk. “I come here to masturbate.”
Craig’s head whips around so fast Robert’s shocked he didn’t hear something pop. His eyes are wide, brows high, and he can’t help but laugh at the expression.
“I’m just--holy shit, you okay?”
Craig huffs at him, aiming a playful punch at his thigh as he arranges himself to lounge next to him.
“Not funny, bro. Weird, if anything.”
Robert takes it in stride, fingers itching for a smoke. He drags a pack from his jacket, holding it up between them. They’re not confined in the cab anymore so he doesn’t feel too bad about it, but best to check.
Maybe the no-smoking isn’t just another health kick. Maybe he’s got asthma or something.
“Ah...yeah, sure. Carpe diem, right, dude?” Craig holds out an expectant hand and--
Well, alright. Not what he expected but fuck it, if it makes the guy loosen up even a millimeter, Robert’s on board.
“Certainly didn’t expect that.” He murmurs, shaking one out and passing it over along with the lighter.
He watches, somewhat amused and still off-kilter, when Craig lights it easily and drags in deeply. There’s no cough, no seizing of his shoulders, just a deep breath in and an easy exhale. Smoke curls between them in the darkness and Robert takes the lighter back with slightly numb fingers.
Goddamn. Did smoke always look so good pouring out from between someone’s lips? Or is Craig just stupidly hot in pretty much all aspects?
“I wasn’t always into the fitness thing.” Craig explains, dragging again as Robert lights his own. “College was...man, college was interesting. But cleaned it up when the twins came.”
“I hear you.”
He doesn’t. He didn’t clean up shit when Val was born. Maybe mentally stuff started to shift around a little bit but….
Not going there. This is about Craig’s issues. Not his own spilling out into the night between them like oil.
“It’s tough, but it’s worth it. I want them to have a good example.”
“You’re a good dad.” Robert grunts, studiously staring at the lights in town instead of Craig’s almost flushed face. “They love you and that’s really all y’need, most days.”
Craig’s quiet, for a second, both of them are. Something shifts in the air between them and Robert half hopes for an animal in the distance, a crack of thunder, something to make whatever the hell this is break down the center. Because it’s getting too heavy and he doesn’t do well with heavy.
Fuck, he should’ve shifted this onto someone else. Maybe Damien, he’s good with feelings and shit.
“So,” Craig shifts in place, flicking ashes off the side of the truck with practiced ease. “Can you really masturbate up here?”
Well. Alright then.
Robert stifles a laugh, tongue flickering out to wet his lips as he glances aside.
“I mean, if you’re feeling it, sure. Not many visitors and I don’t think the wildlife really gives a shit.”
Craig’s legs spread, twitchy and restless, and Robert’s eyes dip without thinking. He’s not fully hard, but the joggers don’t hide much and he’s on his way there. Pulling his gaze up, he arches a brow at Craig’s red cheeks.
“Nicotine do it for you?”
“It’s been....a while.” Craig mutters, free hand scratching at his nape nervously. “No time, yknow? Or I’m so exhausted when I’ve got free time it’s the last thing on my mind.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” Because Robert is the absolute last person who would ever begrudge someone an orgasm. “I brought you here to relax. However you gotta do that...just do it.”
“I dunno…” Craig takes a heavy drag and--ah, there it is. The small hitch to his chest that shows it really has been a while.
Robert’d feel bad about being such a terrible influence if he wasn’t getting hard in his jeans just talking about it. Thinking about it.
Craig’s hot. Basically everyone in town knows and acknowledges it. And Robert doesn’t feel any need to disagree with the masses for the sheer sake of obstinacy.
“Would it make you feel better if I did it too?” Robert shakes his head with a laugh when Craig opens his mouth to respond. “Nah, don’t answer. I’m gonna. Good night for it. You can join if you like or you can crawl back in the cab and wait for the all clear.”
Craig makes a small noise when Robert reaches down and cups a hand over his cock. He ignores it for the moment, relishing the throb and heated wave of pleasure, head tipping back against the window. It’s not something he actually does often, but he’s done it here before, almost just like this. Hand around his cock and nicotine in his veins, usually some liquor in his belly too but he’ll take what he can get this time.
There’s a quiet rustle and then Robert’s pleasantly surprised to feel the knock of Craig’s elbow against his arm when he starts tugging at his waistband.
His hand slips underneath and there’s an explosive exhale that colors the air around them in smoke. Robert catches his cig between his lips, keeping it there as he pulls at his button and zipper. He doesn’t actually pull down his boxers yet, letting Craig set somewhat of the pace despite his earlier words.
If this works, he gets one relaxed man out of it. If it doesn’t, if he fucks up and scares Craig off, then he’s got even more stress to deal with.
But his palm grinds down just right, hips jumping rudely upwards to seek out the pressure, and Robert doesn’t bother trying to hold back his moan. It cuts through their panting and the shuffling of clothing, and his head twists when it’s met with a soft whine.
Craig is...staring at him. And not just at his dick either but at his face, eyes tracking his expression. His gaze is heavy-lidded, pupils blown and lips red as he takes another slow drag, not shy in his watchfulness.
“See something you like?”
Craig hums, not answering, tossing the cig over the edge of the bed and dragging the hem of his shirt up. It bares his abdomen and Robert has to squeeze down on his cock to stop himself from coming in his underwear like a teenager.
Shit. He knew Craig was in good shape, the little fucker doesn’t have any problem jogging shirtless, but it’s different to see it up close. See the way the muscles clench and relax under the skin as he rolls his hips up. Watch the way his waist twists as he tries to get a new angle, hand still concealed under the material of his joggers.
“Like what you see?” It’s a tease but not a malicious one and Robert can’t help but laugh.
“I’d’ve thought you got enough drooling from those softball moms. You don’t need me to stroke your ego.”
Craig snorts, pulling his hand out of his pants before he shifts his body and straddles Robert in one smooth motion. A hand falls to one hip, clenching the fabric there, as Robert tips his head back to meet a playful smirk.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Used to do it in college all the time.” Craig says and whoa--yep, there’s a hand on his dick. And it’s not his own.
Well, isn’t this night turning out to be fun?
“Glad to know I could help you revisit your--hnng, shit, yeah, that’s good--your misspent youth.”
Craig grins at him, rolling his hips forwards so their cocks grind together in the grip of his hand. Robert’s boxers are digging into his hips, fabric pulled tight by the way Craig had fished his cock out to hold it, but he can’t bitch too much.
He sees stars every time the heads of their cocks brush together and those lights beat out even the city view.
“Just for fun, bro.” Something in the words tells Robert that Craig said them a lot in his ‘misspent youth’.
“Whatever.” He tosses his cig, hands too shaky to still hang onto it as Craig does something absolutely wicked with his hips. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s perfect. Just like that, baby.”
Craig’s eyes shutter, a shake working it’s way over his body, body juttering in the careful rhythm he’s been trying to get into.
Oh.
So that’s how it is.
Never let it be said Robert Small can’t improvise. And that he’s not 100% willing to play dirty.
“So good for me.” He runs his hands over Craig’s hips, up and back until he’s folded them over the small of the man’s back. “Such a good boy. Shit, you’re amazing at this. Makes me wonder what you’d look like stuffed full of my cock.”
Craig whines, tossing his head back even as he twists his grip, working his hand over both of their cocks, palm slick with pre-come.
“Yeah, fuck yeah, you’d take it so well.” Robert continues, using his grip to keep to a steady pace when Craig shivers almost violently. “Pretty boy, begging for me to fuck you up. Bet you’d look absolutely gorgeous with a few bite marks on that perfect body of yours.”
“Please.” It’s the first thing Craig’s really asked for and Robert isn’t nearly enough of an asshole to deny him.
One hand slips free from it’s place, sliding until he can hook it around Craig’s nape and pull him down. It changes the angle a bit and they both groan when the next thrust has their cocks grinding together viciously.
It feels right when he sinks his teeth into the strained muscles near Craig’s shoulder. Low enough he could cover any marks with a hoodie, hard enough that he’s going to need to cover it somehow.
“Oh my god, I’m gonna--Robert, I’m gonna--”
“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” Robert jerks his hips up best he can with the weight pressing him down. “Come on, baby. Let me see you shake apart for me. Bet you look perfect, bet you look so fucking--fuck!”
He didn’t even realize how close to the edge he was. But when Craig babbles something, so frantic Robert can feel the unspoken words under his teeth, and starts to come, he’s right there with him. The come is warm when it runs down his cock, a mix of his and Craig’s, smeared down the lengths with a gentle hand. He closes his eyes against the waves of pleasure, teeth clamping down almost violently on the tempting pulse pounding under Craig’s jaw.
Whoops. Gonna be harder to hide that one.
“Oh my god,” Craig peels his hand away and sits back on his calves, a lazy, boneless sort of weight on Robert’s thighs. “Oh my god, dude, that was--holy hell.”
Robert can’t help but laugh, feeling too old and impossibly young all at the same time. His hips ache from the strain, shoulders already echoing with pain, and he’s sure as hell gonna feel this in his lower back tomorrow. But it’s so far beyond worth it for the sight of the panting, post-coital softness of the man on top of him.
“I aim to please.” He grunts, moving his hands so he can steady Craig’s slightly swaying form, thumbs rubbing into the divots of his hips.
They sit there silently for a bit, both of them trying to catch their breath, and it’s only when the come starts to cool against his cock that Robert grimaces and clears his throat.
“We better--shit, I think I have some napkins in the truck?”
Craig huffs at him before whipping his shirt off in a smooth movement and using it to clean himself up a bit.
“Gotta do laundry tonight anyhow.” He says blithely, before holding it out to Robert like a peace offering.
Robert’s not ashamed to say it takes him a minute to realize what the hell he’s supposed to do, distracted by the expanse of well-built muscles and perky nipples, peaked from the chill in the air.
He can’t help but lean forward, almost entranced, tongue flickering out against one peak. Craig squeaks, dropping the shirt on his lap, and Robert grins even as he starts to wipe away the mess currently trying to soak into his boxers.
“You have cute nipples.”
“Thanks, bro.” Craig rolls his eyes, pulling his waistband back into place and clamoring off him as Robert laughs. “That’s a new one for me.”
“Aw, stick with me, kid.” He carelessly tucks himself away, leaving his belt hanging open as he throws an arm around Craig’s shoulders. “I’ll find new ways to surprise you.”
He’s not sure if it’s the words or the chill of the night that makes Craig shiver, but it doesn’t matter much either way. The man is practically slumped against his side, no more tension, no more stress--at least for the moment.
Mission accomplished, then, so far as he’s concerned.
Craig’s much easier to deal with when he’s curled up like a puppy, warm and sated. And Robert always did like dogs. No tense silence, no words hanging in the air between them, just the quiet sounds of the night and his own panting as he tries to calm the still racing blood in his veins.
He’ll have to start working out a little more, of course, if he wants to keep up with the Terminator--who’s already gotten his breathing back under control and is looking for all the world like he wasn’t a shaking mess coming all over Robert’s lap a few seconds ago. But that’s a small price to pay and, in all honesty, Robert’s done worse things to get a good fuck.
“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, kid.”