Chapter Text
“Robert…”
Chad’s voice comes out weaker than intended as a spark of electricity jolts at the base of his spine; eyes fluttering closed as his back struggles not to arch against the wooden countertop beneath him.
A calloused hand smoothes up his bare arm, tracing a grounding firmness from the dark curls of his armpit all the way up to where both wrists have been firmly secured by a coil of rope above his head.
Immediately; embarrassingly easily, his eyelids flicker back open and he snaps to attention like a dog. As a reward, Robert drags a blunt fingernail down the length of his wrist, leaving a fiery streak of red in his wake.
Chad burns.
The angle of his arms, shoulderblades extended to their limit, makes his chest jut out in a way where every impact feels like starbursts dashing across his skin. The man looming over him spares a singular glance at his face, something heavier than amusement dancing in those dark, half-lidded eyes as he huffs out a laugh and chooses not to respond.
“Robert.” He repeats, not a whine, as he gives in to his urge to arch and the small of his back lifts from the hard surface beneath him. At his side, Robert remains as stoic as a brick wall; silent and stonefaced as his focus is entirely coveted by the soft clacking of metal utensils. He looks… that fucker almost looks bored.
Piece of shit…
Chad shudders and bites the inside of his cheek, ears buzzing.
The muscles of his thighs squeeze as the curve of his spine causes the pressure inside of him to press more insistently against his prostate. And shit, his brain is fucking fireworks as the pleasure makes the muscles of his abdomen tense; increasing the pressure tenfold and drawing a soft hngh from his throat. Tender flesh finds itself gnawed between aching teeth as his low groan is smothered by a bitten lip.
Then, maddeningly, there is a hand on his stomach to push him back down, ass becoming flush with the countertop.
“Sit still, will you?” Robert chides, the condescension dripping from his tone doing something potent to the fog of arousal blanketing his body like a physical presence. The brunette clicks the metal tongs he holds conversationally, oil dripping from the cooking instruments like he’s just finished flipping burgers at a fucking barbeque. He grins lazily.
“They’re almost done.”
Robert Robertson—no, Mechabitch, braces a hand on his hip nonchalantly as he uses his tongs to flip the last sizzling disk pepperoni plastered like stickers over Chad’s tits. He bites back a noise as the metal momentarily scrapes against his skin, hot grease making it a smooth glide as his pecs glisten like they’ve been polished.
“This… is so fucking weird.” He breathes, the back of his head thumping against the countertop as Robert places the tongs down with a quiet clink. Intuitively, Chad begins to slow the inferno that he had been purposefully directing towards his chest, feeling the near numbing hellfire of his skin recede to nothing but a comfortable buzz near the surface. “You’re a goddamn pervert, Bob Bob.”
“You can say that again.” Robert responds easily, his voice gravel. Chad vehemently ignores how the playful rumble of his voice sends a zing of arousal down his spine.
Robert tilts his head, staring down at the man pliant beneath him with mock confusion. “But, remind me, who’s the pervert who agreed to do it with me on a Saturday afternoon?”
Chad clicks his tongue, flushing down to his neck as he briefly remembers that insane conversation. Then, the subsequent trip to the supermarket where Chad only narrowly avoided spontaneously combusting in the deli meats aisle.
“...Fine. Fuck you.” He concedes easily with no heat behind his words. “You sure took your sweet time cooking… what, fucking, pizzaroni on my goddamn tits.”
Chad does not preen as Robert snorts inelegantly at his comment, quickly breaking into a fit of wheezing chuckles. He rolls his eyes and murmurs something about Robert having an ugly laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.
He needs this white boy now.
Exhaling loudly and impatiently, his head lolls languidly onto its side, his intense gaze fixing Robert with what he knows is an irresistible expression. Chad’s tongue wets his lips as they glide over the missing gap in his teeth, the corners curling into a haughty smirk. His signature.
“...So,” he begins, voice low and challenging. “You gonna eat me yet, Doggy?”
Robert groans.
“Shit.”
The rush of satisfaction that courses through him as Robert’s eyelids flutter, weighed down by arousal, stokes the fire stirring in his core until his hips begin to shift again. Grinding into empty air as Robert nearly takes himself out on the side of the cabinet while bending over to capture his lips in a fierce embrace.
The brunette tastes sweet like saliva and savory like smoke. Though, perhaps the latter was a residual effect of the pepperoni grease currently smeared all over his chest and pooling artfully at his collarbone. Tears prick at his eyes as Robert all but shoves his tongue all the way down his throat, his lips a hot seal around his own as he pushes back against the intrusion with a growl.
Chad relishes in the way Robert’s tongue gives in easily to his show of dominance, the appendage soft and lukewarm against his own as he licks along the seam of his teeth. Soft grunts and wet noises occupy the room as the sizzling of the meat crisping on his chest dies down in volume.
He smells like a damn pizzeria and would probably continue to do so for weeks. Judging by the way Robert’s hand drags up the length of his entire midriff; dragging a streak of oil with him in a smooth glide that makes every curve of his abdomen tingle with sensitivity.
“I have no idea how this gets you off.” Chad huffs as they separate with a wet pop.
Saliva that he is ninety nine percent sure is Robert’s dribbles down the stubble on his chin as deft fingers pluck a piece of meat from his left pectoral.
“Honestly, me neither.” The brunette offers with a shrug as he slips the crispy slice of sausage between his lips. Chad’s eyes remain glued to the pink tongue peeking out between swollen lips as he chews and hums appreciatively, a sheen of oil glistening at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I’m just hungry.”
The countertop creaks as Robert leans his weight forward on his arm, two fingers coming to press roughly against the disk of cured meat plastered deliberately over the pebbled flesh of his nipple. Chad’s naked dick twitches as the coarse surface of the pepperoni sends sharp jolts of sensation up his spine; pleasure mounting on pain as he lets out a shuddering sigh.
“Hm, maybe I like making you wait for it?” Robert adds as an afterthought, making a noise of consideration as if he was debating the weather forecast for tomorrow instead of talking about the fact that they have been doing this shit for twenty minutes and Chad still hasn’t—
His train of thought is abruptly cut short, breath hitching, as Robert presses his fingers down onto Chad’s covered nipple. Rubbing rough, tight circles into the sensitive flesh as his voice pitches down to a private rumble.
“Or, maybe it’s the fact that you’re desperate enough to start fucking the air,” Chad’s hips stutter from where they had instinctively begun to rise from the table, face flushing. Robert pats his pec appreciatively, “but still staying nice and still for me like a good boy–” Fuck. “–that gets me off.”
Chad doesn’t even have to meet Robert’s eye to know that he’s smirking down at him… he can hear it in his voice; that big, cocky, sexy fucking smirk.
“Someone’s twitching.” Robert comments, not talking about his face. Then, his smirk grows soft at the edges as he picks another piece of meat off of his chest and raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. It makes the humiliation stirring in his gut feel distinctly more like...
“You like being good for me, baby?”
…need.
Chad keens as Robert takes a loud bite of the sausage and the snap of the skin breaking sends juices squirting messily over his abdomen. He almost feels jealous of the damn thing as his eyes rove down to the mess on his own chest. It’s… absurd… what this lunatic has done to him.
Various precooked deli meats (because no matter how kinky the night got, Chad was not risking Robert catching salmonella from eating raw meat off of his bare body… no matter how low the chances were… he has too much self respect for that.) lay browned and smelling of spices across his upper body. A couple pepperoni slices have been arranged artfully over the glistening curves of his pecs, with one slice reserved for each of his areolas like… smoked paprika flavored nipple patches.
A second breakfast sausage, descendant of the one Robert currently munches on with an all too satisfied expression, is nestled deep in the furrow between the ample mounds of his pecs, cooking like it's in a grilled cheese press. You know, like some fucked up amputee boob-job.
As he watches a rivulet of orange oil drip down into the valley to join the steadily forming pool there, the puckered end where the sausage casing has been cut stares back at him mockingly. He even swears that it winks at him as Robert finishes his dubiously acquired snack and brings his attention back where it should be: Chad.
“Oh, sorry.” Robert apologizes, clearly not sorry. “You want some?”
He hums, picking up the remaining breakfast sausage and slapping it against Chad’s bottom lip like a… like a…
The salty, searing press of the tip against the corner of his mouth is made wet and slippery by a combination of grease and its own juices. Saliva pools at the back of his throat, mostly because of the deliciously smokey smell, but also as he sees the way Robert stares down at him with that intense, half lidded expression.
Chad can’t help himself after that.
Glaring up at Robert with glowing amber eyes, Chad’s lips open obediently to take the thick length into his mouth. Instead of biting off a chunk to consume, however, he keeps the shaft intact and begins to slurp loudly. Taking advantage of the spit gathering at the corners of his mouth to put on the most messy, debauched show that he can currently manage.
The effects are immediate as Robert makes a noise as if maimed, maintaining his stupidly hot eye contact thing as Chad gives head to a breakfast sausage like he’s getting paid by the hour.
“Oh, you’re funny…” Robert huffs, his voice bordering on a growl as he shifts his grip on around the plump shaft and presses it flat against Chad’s tongue; applying force until Chad can taste it at the back of his throat.
Wetness pricks at the corners of his eyes as the pressure on his gag reflex doesn’t abate. Despite this, he continues to swirl his tongue with a fervor that he hopes conveys his current desperation for literally anything to happen. Impatient wrists creak against triple knotted restraints and hips twitch aimlessly into empty air as he loses himself to the feeling of taking Robert into his mouth and being kept like a hole to be used.
“Mmfh,” He chokes through his nose, eyes squeezing shut. Fuck, he could cum like this. He really fucking could. He’s been close to it for a goddamn while now. Chad imagines a hand in his hair, insistent and firm as his head is tugged back to bare his neck. Robert pushing in deep enough to see an indent at his adams apple—
His expression sours as the object is abruptly removed from his mouth, sliding from the hot press of his tongue with a wet schlick; a long string of saliva connecting it to his bottom lip before snapping and sending cooling liquid dripping down his chin.
The heat building in his gut recedes once more and Chad growls in frustration. He needs more, fuck, he just needs bitchass Robert to—
Before he can finish complaining, however, his words are stolen by the view of Robert leaning down to lick a hot stripe through the juices painting Chad’s pecs. His breath hot and teeth scraping slightly as the blunt head of his tongue drags and drags before it settles on the slice of cured meat plastered to his nipple.
Chad groans and pushes his chest out to press the muscle harder into Robert’s careful attention. The embarrassment that curls in his gut at the fact that his irritation is so easily outweighed by sluttish desperation is quickly swept away as his eyes flutter closed, relishing in the ticklish tingling pleasure of Robert tasting him.
When the brunette’s lips pause on Chad’s nipple, he expects Robert to guide the cooked piece of meat into his mouth, separating from his body to take the time to chew and swallow like he’s been doing until this moment.
Which is why he fails to muffle the garbled noise that rips out of him as Robert does not pull away and instead bites down, catching pepperoni and Chad between gentle teeth.
“Ohhhh shit…” Chad whines high and breathy as Robert chews the thin meat around him; feeling every movement starkly through 2mm of buffering. His shoulders twitch up to his ears each time teeth graze against sensitive flesh, legs shaking as a slick tongue dives in between bites to soothe the pain-pleasure with a wet lick.
“Robeeerrt… fuck. Fuck. Fuuucckkk—” He breathes, head softly thumping against the countertop from where it had risen beyond his control.
The noises continue to rip out of him as Robert swallows the last of the savory meat and keeps going. “Please—” He gasps. A quiet whisper of desperate pleasure as a second hand jumps in out of nowhere and begins to squeeze his other bud roughly in tandem with the glorious suction of his mouth.
“Close—” Is all he manages to articulate before his words dissolve into meaningless babble, a broken mix of English and something far closer to himself as the heat in his core is stoked to a quickly growing inferno. He’s still tingling with it as the stimulation to his chest unceremoniously peters off once more.
Robert looks just as debauched as him as he pulls away with a grunt, licking orange oil from his lips and hair spiked with sweat. Chad’s eyes flutter open to see his own tit twitching a breadth away from Robert’s mouth, sucked puffy and bitten raw by the brunette’s fierce attacks.
“Want me to fuck you through it?” He murmurs, staring meaningfully up at Chad with the most intense bedroom eyes he’s ever seen like it’s even a question. “With the toy, I mean—”
Chad growls and finally does what he’s been holding off on since three minutes ago when Robert had denied him release for the fourth time. The whoosh of flames lighting up his forearms is immensely satisfying as Chad, quite literally, vaporizes his restraints. The black ashes of what used to be rope flutter to the ground and countertop as he forgoes stretching out his stiff arms in lieu of grabbing Robert Robertson by the fucking hair and yanking him back down to his chest.
“You fuck me right fucking now, or I. Fucking. Kill you. Okay?” He hisses with genuine venom, grinding Robert’s face into his pec until he was sure the man wouldn’t be able to breathe. The strangled groan that he feels vibrate against him is almost worth the trouble as Robert’s mouth gets to work on Chad’s chest with renewed fervor; sucking and biting like Chad was his last meal on earth.
Down below, Chad’s thighs part with determination as he snakes a hand down to grip at the flared base of the dildo currently swallowed by his hole. Grease slick fingers scrabble at the blue silicone—and of course Robert Mecha-fuck’s fancy dildo was blue—with wild abandon. Dragging it out, barely an inch, before shoving it back into himself, thrusts shallow and punchy.
The grip he has on the other man’s hair slackens as his lips part to let out a crackling string of ‘ah, ah, ah—’s, Robert sucking in a desperate breath as he pulls off from Chad’s puffy nipple with a pop.
“Okay,” he pants, having the gall to look slightly apologetic. “I didn’t actually mean to edge you that time—”
“Shut the fuuuckup—”
“—I was trying to ask if you wanted me to fuck you through it, or if you wanted to finish inside me, but…”
“Rob—” he chokes as a colder hand settles atop his own at the base of the toy, pulling it out in one long, wet, dizzying glide before slamming it back inside of him like he was trying to hi-five his sternum. Robert braces a hand on Chad’s knee, spreading him wider as he adjusts his grip on the dildo and glances down at his cross eyed expression appraisingly.
“I guess I got my answer anyway.” Robert snorts before slowly dragging the toy back out and fucking the former villain in earnest.
The mouth watering drag of the textured silicone against Chad's rim is electrifying. Intense and raw and punching a litany of desperate gasps out of the cocky man with each long glide; choked off noises perfectly in time with the thrusts like a particularly sexy metronome.
His insides pulse in tandem with the shaking of his legs as he plants his feet on the counter and haltingly cants his hips to better meet Robert's hand where it pistons like a drill between them. Body halfway torn between shying away from the overwhelming sensation and also wanting to be as open and pliant as possible for him as he ravages his insides.
“You're a fucking mess, Flambae.” Robert huffs, voice bordering on a growl as he puts on That Voice that he only does when Flambae's about to give up after a particularly difficult dispatch. Chad distantly relishes in the fact that Robert sounds just as out of breath as him, despite not having pulled his dick out once during this whole ordeal.
“So loose and–” Robert punctuates his sentence with a particularly vicious flick of his wrist. “–good for me.”
Chad just barely makes out his own wounded cry of bliss through the haze of white noise overtaking his brain. His hips jerking erratically as Robert grabs his cock and begins pumping it in time with the toy, murmuring low praises into the empty space between them like a broken record.
“Good boy. Good boy. Fuck, taking it so well—”
Chad keens, high and desperate. His eyes squeezing shut as the rumble of Robert's voice penetrates him deep and scrapes at his insides better than the damn 7-inch dildo. His pulse jumps, tongue liquid and heavy in his throat, as his teary eyes part just enough to catch Robert staring down at him with the intensity of a carnivore starved—like he wanted to devour him; like he wouldn't stop until he had mapped out every fold and divot with his teeth.
Like, when he leans in close and whispers that Chad is a good boy for him, he actually believes it.
And fuck, he almost cums from that alone.
Or, well, it’s what would’ve made him cum if not for the feeling of Robert nailing his prostate square in the center on his next lethal thrust.
The impact leaves his whole world flashing white as Chad lets out a truly whorish wail. His back lifting off the table and thighs squeezing Robert's hand in a death grip as the cord that had been steadily tightening inside of him for the past half-hour finally snaps.
Ribbons of scalding hot liquid shoot across his abdomen. Making a mess of his already sloppy chest before the liquid immediately begins to sizzle and steam in contact with his rapidly rising body temperature.
Distantly, he hears Robert swear and begin to tug frantically at his arm still locked between Chad's thighs like a bear trap. Chad, however, is too busy having the orgasm of his fucking life to care about the smell of burning fabric as the heat radiating from his core scalds a hole through Robert's sleeve which had thankfully fallen back down during their earlier escapades.
Only after his balls have completely emptied themselves and his optic nerve starts hurting from how far back his eyes have rolled do his legs finally fall apart from their tensed position; body limp and twitching with the aftershocks as he lays there boneless and steaming on Robert Robertson's countertop.