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"Are you sure no one will notice?"
Robby is sat on his and Jack's bed, arms raised above his head as Jack wraps another length of rope around his torso. Jack's focused, eyes hard and jaw set in a way that Robby is all too familiar with, and it takes Jack more than a moment to register what Robby said.
"As long as you don't scratch at it or wear tight scrubs it should be okay," Jack replies into Robby's shoulder, pressing a kiss to it as he ties off a small knot in the middle of Robby's back. "Not that you'd mind if anyone saw, fuckin' exhibitionist," His voice is fond, and a playful nip follows the kiss, making Robby grumble in protest.
"As true as that may be under normal circumstances, I'd rather not announce our… bedroom proclivities to our coworkers."
Jack snorts, coming back around to Robby's chest and tying off the final loop. Robby finally puts his arms back down, shaking out the slight pins and needles feeling when Jack pulls him to his feet by the rope with a sharp tug. Robby makes a choked noise as he rights himself, holding onto Jack's shoulders so he doesn't fall on his ass. Jack is laughing, and Robby tries to give him his best stink eye, but it only makes Jack laugh harder.
"Come on, gotta do your legs. Feet apart, don't move unless I say." Jack is still smiling, and Robby just rolls his eyes and spreads his legs slightly.
"Yes, sir."
"Tsk, brat," Jack scrunches his nose, annoyed, and reaches up to flick Robby's pierced nipple. "You're the one who asked for this, don't roll your eyes at me."
Robby gasps mock-scandalously - it didn't actually hurt; he hasn't had feeling in his transplanted nipples in well over two decades, but it was the principle of the matter - and he rubs his chest, pouting.
Jack pays him no mind as he bends down on one knee, tugging the rope further down to wrap around Robby's meaty thighs. He does allow himself to get a little handsy with it, squeezing Robby's ass and hips as the rope passes over them, earning grunts of pleasure from the man above him. The last bit Jack ties is in between his thighs, and he shoots up a wicked grin at Robby as he does so, relishing the flushed look on his husbands face, bottom lip in between his teeth. He finishes the final knot, framing the man's cunt perfectly through his boxers, and presses a teasing kiss to the protruding bulge of his dick.
"Shit- Jack, that's not fair!" Robby whines, hips shifting forward the smallest bit to try and chase the fleeting feeling despite Jack pulling away.
"You'll be good, won't you pup?" Jack pats Robby's thigh encouragingly, and Robby can't help but nod. "Now, help me up then go get dressed. Wouldn't want you to be late, would we?"
Robby obeys readily, helping Jack pull himself back up to standing before heading to their closet to get ready for his shift. Jack sits back down onto the bed with a soft huff, leaning back against the headboard as he stares at the wide plane of Robby's furry back, now covered in crisscrossing lines of red bondage rope.
What a sight.
Robby and Jack were no strangers to shibari and bondage. They've made a habit of going out to a club at least once a month when they both have two consecutive days off and… performing a little show. It's one that usually draws quite a bit of attention; something about Robby's complete and utter trust in Jack to keep him safe as hes suspended in air, and Jack's reverence and care for how beautiful Robby looks all tied up. All that to say, they get up to quite a lot in their personal lives.
So when Robby mentioned doing some more casual bondage, how could Jack deny him?
They went easy at first, just a bit of rope around Robby's legs when they went out for dinner and a show. Then full torso over a nice dress shirt Robby looked delicious in on their way to the club that got them many a compliment from the patrons as Jack paraded him around. Now, in search of an even longer experience, Robby decided to do a full shift with Jack's favorite pattern under his scrubs. It was risky, they both knew it. One arm raised a little too high, one accidental collision, and it would be glaringly obvious what Robby was up to - but what Robby wants, Robby gets.
It's hard to resist the temptation to touch himself as he watches Robby make his way around the room, so Jack doesn't resist, openly rubbing his soft dick through his sweatpants. It takes a few moments for Robby to notice it out of the corner of his eye, and he scoffs and tosses a spare scrub top at Jack's head.
"You are insatiable. Keep your hands to yourself, pervert," Robby groans as he shimmies into his cargos.
"What, a man can't appreciate his own artistry?" Jack looks like he wants to devour Robby. He would, honestly, if not for time constraints. "Plus, I should be telling you that. I doubt you'll be able to make it through the shift without touching yourself at least once. If you do, send me a video so I know I'm right, will you sweetheart?" His voice is dripping with teasing sarcasm, grinning up at Robby when he walks up for his goodbye kiss.
"Well now you're making me want to prove you wrong!" Robby huffs and presses a chaste kiss to Jack's lips, ignoring the chase as he pulls away. "See you when I get home, Jack."
"I'll be waiting for that video, Michael!" Jack shouts after him, waiting until he hears the front door lock to start a timer on his phone.
——
Robby's resting heart rate kicks up a notch as he steps into the ED. There's logically no chance people will notice, his normal clothing too loose and baggy to expose the lines of rope underneath, but the thrill it sends through Robby is something he hasn't felt in a long time. Every time he notices a pinch, a shifting of the rope on his skin, he can feel his dick twitch distractingly.
His shift starts easily enough, the heat under his skin just a low simmer at this point. He finds himself scratching absentmindedly at the ropes on his chest once while looking at the board, earning himself a mildly confused look from Dana before he realizes what he's doing and stops.
'You alright, Cap? You're a little off your game today," Dana asks not long after, leaning against the counter as Robby punches orders into a tablet.
"Yep, fine as ever Dana, don't worry about me," Robby's response is clipped, more than he means it to be, and he winces after the words leave his mouth. "Sorry, long night. I promise I'm good. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to check on Santos's 'super glue vs belly button' patient."
Dana gives him another look, one that reads 'nice deflection, ass', but he's already halfway across the floor and into the patients room before she can say anything.
Each patient is a distraction, a way for his mind to focus on anything but the subtle chafing and constant pressure around his torso and thighs, but the second he gets a free moment it's all he can think about. One twist of his torso to reach for something has the rope rubbing against the sensitive scars under his pecs and he has to bite back a moan in front of Mohan and McKay. As the day goes on, the low simmer in his gut grows hotter, but despite the sensitivity of his rubbed-raw skin Robby manages to power through and keep himself professional. Sure he gets some weird looks from his coworkers, people who've known him long enough to detect he's being more stiff and twitchy than usual, but nothing is outright said to him until-
"Shit!"
Robby rounds a corner after finishing sending up a trauma to the OR, only to be met with a shock of blonde hair and the sudden sensation of wet clothes. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, and when it does he's faced with a mortified looking Dennis Whitaker, holding what looks to be a previously full, now empty paper cup of water - water that is now soaking into the fabric of Robby's hoodie and scrubs.
"God - I am so sorry Dr. Robby, I didn't see you and was in a hurry to get to my patient-" He's stuttering nervously, and Robby sighs and shakes his head before he claps Dennis on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort the man.
"Hey, Whitaker, it's okay. No harm done, it's just clothing, that's what the scrub machines are for." He smiles calmly, not realizing Dennis's gaze is elsewhere. "Just… keep the running to a minimum around here, yeah? I know it's always rush rush rush down here but… uh, earth to Dr. Whitaker? You alright?"
Dennis stares at Robby's chest, eyes flitting up to Robby's face and back down, swallowing hard. It's awkward for a beat, but when Robby chances a look down he realizes with dawning horror what Dennis sees. His scrub top getting soaked through made it cling to his skin, skin that is currently covered in a web of rope that - while not extremely prominent - is very visible to the man standing a foot away from him. Robby flushes beet red, and coughs loudly, trying his best to seem nonchalant as he tugs at the fabric to get it to pull away from his body.
"A-Ah. Um, yeah- let me just… go change. Be careful next time, Whitaker," and Robby bolts to the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind him.
He leans up against the cool wood, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as he tries to calm his pounding heart. It's not like Whitaker would say anything, not that he got that good of a look, but the thrill it sent through Robby regardless was dangerous. It's the same sensation that he gets when him and Jack do their show, a volatile mix of shame and arousal. He feels his cock twitch in his damp pants, and he groans lowly, taking a deep breath as he presses the heel of his palm against his crotch, trying to relieve some of the pressure. The smaller ropes framing his cunt squeeze tighter from the movement, and Robby's head falls back against the door as he bites back a moan. OK, yeah, he's not heading back to the floor like this.
He quickly strips his hoodie and scrub top off, folding them over the grab bars against the wall to keep them off the floor and unbuttons his cargos with ease, shoving them down just below his ass. Robby chances a look in the mirror, biting his lip as he drinks in the sight. The ropes have dug in to his skin over the past few hours, leaving marks where they've shifted and chafed, squeezing his soft flesh in the best way. He tugs at the center rope, wincing when it cinches the rest of the rope around him, and he can feel his dick throb with pleasure.
… Fuck it.
The voice of his husband echoes in his mind, "I'll be waiting for that video!", and while Robby huffs at how predictable he is, he positions his camera on top of the toilet regardless — getting a great view of his bottom half when he straddles the seat. Robby starts to touch himself over his boxers slowly, two fingers stroking his already hard and protruding dick. His middle finger slips down a little further to prod at his hole, and he chokes back a whine when he feels his slick soak his boxers instantly. He laments not being able to properly finger himself , not having the time nor the patience for it — he needs to get off now.
Taking a deep breath and pressing the record button on his phone, Robby shoves down his boxers as best he can underneath the ropes and exposes his dick to the cool air of the bathroom. He wastes no time, fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers to slick his fingers before he starts rubbing furiously at his dick, the wet sounds of his cunt filling the silence. Somewhere in the back of Robby's mind he worries he's making too much noise, but the rest of him is just focused on cumming as quickly as possible. He doesn't bother making a show out of it, but his free hand does come up to grope absentmindedly at his chest, just to have some extra stimulation, muted though as it is.
Robby tugs the center rope upwards to pull at his bindings again, and this time he can't help the soft moan that escapes his lips as they squeeze his thighs and waist. He picks up the pace, switching from his middle and pointer fingers to his pointer and thumb, circling them around his cock and stroking it properly. His hips thrust forward automatically, and if he closes his eyes he can pretend it's Jack's mouth around him instead, expert tongue licking and dancing around his swollen clit.
Robby finds himself muttering quietly, unable to hold himself back, just audible enough for his phone to pick up but hopefully not enough for someone outside to hear.
"Fuck, Jack, I've been so pent up all day, since the moment I stepped outside. I- I don't know how much longer I can last, it's been driving me crazy, need to cum, need your cock inside me- please, Jack!"
It's over almost as quickly as it began Robby's fingers squeeze him just right, he thrusts into his fist at just the right angle, and he has to slap his free hand over his mouth to muffle the loud groan that rips out of him as he cums hard. He rides out his orgasm, still jacking himself off as waves of pleasure radiate through him, making his thighs shake with the effort of keeping himself upright. Robby reaches down and ends the recording with a trembling hand, grabbing the phone and sitting down on the toilet seat, head falling back as he catches his breath.
He doesn't know how long he sits for, only snapping out of his post-orgasm haze when someone politely knocks at the door.
"Sorry, one sec!" Robby calls out, quickly shooting off a text to Jack along with the video, shoving his phone back in his pocket as he makes himself presentable once again. Grabbing his hoodie and still damp scrub shirt, he slides the jacket on and zips it to the top to hide the rope as best he can before heading out to grab a replacement shirt.
Back in the fray of the ED, it's almost quitting time before Robby has a chance to look at his phone again. He opens up their texts, angling his phone away from any wandering eyes, and is greeted with a message that Jack flame reacted his video, and sent his own picture of his strong hand wrapped around his flaccid cock with the message, "We'll see you soon ;)"
Robby doesn't think he's done his leftover charting faster in his life.
——
Their house is quiet when Robby steps through the door, though that's nothing really out of the ordinary. There's a familiar lingering smell of Jack's homemade beef stroganoff, and it makes Robby's stomach rumble loudly from hunger, but he's not exactly wanting to eat food at the moment…
"I'm home!" Robby calls out, shedding his jacket and dumping it and his bag on the bench, itching to finally get out of his stupid clothes.
"Bedroom!" Jack shouts back, and Robby's face splits into a smile as he all but jogs down the hall to where Jack is waiting for him.
His hands are already starting to undo his belt on instinct, but when he gets to the doorway he freezes as he takes in the sight before him. Jack, naked on the bed; normal, expected even given the message he'd sent Robby a few hours before. More rope laying next to him; a little less expected, but no less welcome. Their Hitachi, however… Jack only brings it out when he's planning something devious, and Robby feels his cock twitch as his mind wanders through all the possibilities.
"C'mere, pup." It's simple, the command, but the weight Jack puts behind it makes Robby's knees weak. He can't help but obey, and begins to strip as he walks toward the bed, but Jack lets out a quick "Aht- nope."
Robby freezes again, halfway through removing his scrub shirt, and looks at Jack confusedly.
"Clothes stay on. Turn around, arms behind your back," Jack grins wickedly as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing the rope and unspooling it casually. Robby swallows hard, slowly letting his shirt drop back down as he processes Jack's order. Jack looks up at him with an expectant gaze, tapping his good foot on the ground in a silent repeat command. Robby has a feeling he's being punished somehow, and he doesn't exactly feel like making his punishment worse, so he finally caves, lowering himself to his knees before turning around and holding his arms against his back like he was told.
"See! Good boy, following directions!" Jack coos patronizingly, bending down to start binding Robby once more. "I did enjoy that video you sent me, don't get me wrong, but getting off without me? I'm hurt, Mikey!"
Robby winces. Shit.
"You- You were the one who asked for a video…" Robby grunts as Jack pulls the rope around his biceps a little tighter than it needs to be, and earns himself a flick to the ear.
"Don't be a smart ass. You know what I mean. If you're so bent on getting an orgasm in on shift, why not have a couple more at home? Let's say… three more oughta do the trick!"
Robby lets out a pathetic whimper before he can bite it back, and Jack barks a laugh. "I'm taking that as a yes, then!" He leans back a moment to admire his work, then tugs on the rope to help maneuver Robby onto his back on the bed.
Jack kneels on the bed in between Robby's spread legs and drinks in the sight; face already flushed and shiny from sweat, looking up at Jack with hooded eyes, silently pleading for Jack to go easy on him. It almost makes Jack change his plans, suddenly content to just jack off over Robby's bound body and lick him clean — but Jack isn't one to back down from something, least of all when teaching a lesson.
Robby can feel himself getting more worked up the longer Jack just stares, unsure of what the man has planned but dreading it and looking forward to it all the same. He starts to squirm, flush traveling down from his face to his neck and chest, turning it a pretty shade of red that Jack adores. He wishes he could squeeze his thighs together, to feel something against his aching cunt, but Jack's not budging in the slightest. They stay like that for a while, stuck in a stalemate to see who will break first, and Robby is determined to stick it out no matter how badly he wants — needs to be touched.
There's a sudden realization in Robby's mind of their current dichotomy; despite the fact that he's still fully clothed and Jack is bare as the day he was born, Robby still feels far more naked. It could be their positions, their dynamic — Robby is tied up and vulnerable beneath Jack, who's looming over him like he wants to eat Robby alive. He probably does, licking his lips with anticipation for the taste of Robby's flesh, and it's a testament to their relationship that Robby would bare his neck and let him without hesitation. He almost makes a move to do it, to finally submit to Jack and let him have his way, but his stubbornness keeps him still for a little while longer.
Jack ends up moving first, but not towards Robby. His hands move from his sides to his flaccid cock, and Robby's breath hitches as he watches Jack start to stroke himself. It's slow, steady, and Robby feels his mouth part ever so slightly, subconsciously preparing himself to take it. As soon as he realizes it he snaps his jaw shut, but Jack catches the movement with that eagle eye of his and smirks knowingly. Jack's other hand makes its way to his sack, and as he massages and squeezes it his cock grows harder bit by bit until he's standing at full mast. Robby swallows hard and bites back a noise, fighting against his every instinct to beg for it inside him. He shuts his eyes and turns his head away, desperately trying to stave off the growing flame of arousal — he's certain that if Jack touched him right now he'd cum, and he'd rather save himself the embarrassment of ruining his pants.
Jack makes a disapproving noise, suddenly shifting himself up the bed to straddle Robby's shoulders. The movement makes Robby jolt in surprise, but he keeps his eyes resolutely closed, hardening his jaw as his breath quickens, trying to prepare himself for Jack's next move.
"Come on, pup. Don't be like this," Jack admonishes, holding a warm, calloused hand to Robby's face and caressing it sweetly. Robby purses his lips and shakes his head. He does not see Jack's eyes darken in disappointment. "You were being such a good boy earlier following directions, what happened?"
The hand on Robby's face moves to grip it, fingers and thumb squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look back up at Jack. Robby whines from the sudden pain, lips parting again from the hold on his face. He still does not open his eyes, a tiny devil on his shoulder whispering in his ear to stay stubborn, to not give in.
"Don't make me lock your cock up again, Michael."
Robby's eyes shoot open quick as a flash and widen in shock, and he shakes his head as vigorously as he can while still being held by Jack. "Please! No, no I'll be good, please don't lock me back up Jack-"
The pathetic begging for mercy was doing more to Jack than he expected, but he keeps his expression calm and composed as Robby babbles and squirms under him, practically pleading for his life. Instead, Jack just scoots forward a little more until the tip of his cock is resting against Robby's now still lips, and he rubs it across the spit slick skin casually.
"Well then. Better get to sucking, because this is all the lube you're getting, pup." Jack fully knows Robby is already soaked through his boxers, but the empty threat alone is enough to make Robby moan and finally open his mouth to take Jack's cock properly.
The sensation is unlike any other, and over the years since his surgery Robby's memorized where all his sensitive spots ended up. He runs his tongue along the scar line on the underside of his dick, mouthing at the smooth, pale skin of his shaft from root to tip, letting his teeth graze ever so slightly to get a rise out of Jack. It works, Jack grunting noncommittally before moving his hand from Robby's jaw to his hair and giving it a harsh tug, a wordless command to get to it already. Luckily, Robby's just about had enough of being stubborn and needs Jack's cock in him yesterday, so he readily obeys and opens his mouth wide, tongue sticking out and practically inviting Jack inside.
Jack pulls his head forward by his hair and makes Robby take him to the base, a loud sigh of satisfaction falling from Jack's lips without warning. He sits there for a beat or two, letting Robby squirm from the intrusion and try to fight off his gag reflex before pulling away slightly — just enough for Robby to breathe. Robby tries his best to give Jack a dirty look, but from where Jack is kneeling Robby's teary, grumpy expression is only making him want to get meaner. He starts moving his hips back and forth, slowly at first, just holding Robby's head in place as he does so, but it doesn't take long for him to get a little… too worked up.
There's drool coming out of the sides of Robby's mouth as Jack face fucks him, eyes glossed over and cross-eyed as his mind empties with every thrust of Jack's cock. Jack knows he should stop, spend his orgasm buried in Robby's cunt, but the choked sounds Robby makes whenever he bottoms out are addictive.
"Fuck- Yes, just like that pup. Gag on it, gag on my fucking cock… such a good boy for me, pup-"
Praise falls from Jack's lips unbidden, vision starting to vignette from how fucking close he is — when Robby's eyes suddenly roll back and his whole body shakes violently, hips jerking up uncontrollably. Jack pulls out of Robby's mouth, brows furrowed in confusion as Robby coughs and sputters around the residual spit, taking large swallows of air like his life depends on it. As Robby's hips fall back to the mattress and his breathing evens out, a flush of embarrassment once again spreads from his face to his chest, and Jack realizes what had just happened.
"Mikey… did you cum just from sucking me off?"
Robby whines pitifully, turning his head to the side in embarrassment before nodding his head almost imperceptibly. Fuck, if Jack hadn't already cooled down from the edge of his orgasm he would have cum right there. Instead, he groans wantonly and shifts his hips back just enough so he can lean down to kiss Robby, all teeth and tongue and spit and its messy but Jack doesn't care because holy shit. When they part, a line of saliva still connects their lips and Jack licks it away, giving Robby a wink before finally returning to his place between his legs.
"Well, pup. I'd say that counts as one of your orgasms," and Jack pats Robby's thigh encouragingly, drawing a pained noise from the man. "Two more to go!"
Jack makes short work of Robby's pants, tossing the belt aside and unbuttoning them smoothly, tugging them down to his thighs and then… stops. He pushes Robby's legs together and maneuvers himself underneath them, hips pressed against his still clothed cunt as his long legs rest on top of Jack's broad shoulder. It's not the best position for Robby, the stretch in his lower back burning a little too unpleasantly, but he doesn't have the wherewithal to complain — all the blood in his body funneled to his still hard cock. Jack rubs his dick against the wet fabric of Robby's boxers and tuts, lips pursed in thought.
"See, I had the stupid thought of putting the rope on over your underwear, and now I can't get it off without untying you…" He doesn't sound as put out as Robby's expecting, which makes him pause nervously.
"Eh, oh well. We can get you new ones."
Robby's eyes widen and he squirms in protest, but Jack doesn't pay him any mind, hands coming down to grab the thin fabric of his boxers and he rips them apart with ease — exposing Robby's dripping, hairy cunt. Robby winces and whines, taking solace in the fact he hadn't decided to wear one of his good pairs today. With the final barrier between them finally taken care of, Jack presses his cock against Robby's pussy and gives a few thrusts, head falling back as the warm, slick sensation surrounds him. He can feel Robby's clit throbbing against him, and he angles himself to press at it more insistently, practically frotting with him. The two men moan in tandem, hips moving with minds of their own, until Jack pulls back a little too far and ends up sliding into Robby's hole in one thrust. Robby's moan grows louder each inch Jack sinks into him, cutting off with a gasp when Jack finally bottoms out.
They stay like that for a bit, catching their breaths as Robby's cunt flutters around Jack's cock, already overstimulated, and Jack tries to not let himself become a five second shooter. As soon as he staves off his orgasm for the second time, Jack doesn't hold himself back. With one arm wrapped around Robby's clothed legs to keep him in place and the other hand on his hip, Jack pistons into Robby like a wild animal. He sounds like one too, snarling and grunting and baring his teeth as he fucks Robby into the mattress, pulling pleasured cries and incoherent babbling from the older man. He even starts to tear up properly, fat droplets falling from his thick eyelashes and trailing down his weathered cheeks, wet brown eyes sparkling in the low light of the bedside lamp.
Jack knows that, had his arms been free, Robby would be making an absolute mess of their sheets right now, gripping and tugging at the bedding as he tries to power through the pounding he's receiving. As it stands, he's probably grasping what little he can with his hands bound, but it's all about harm reduction, right? There's something sadistic in Jack's brain that loves to see his husband like this — broken, head empty, desperate for any kind of purchase to ground himself but denied it at every turn, except for the ropes. The ropes are what keep him together, keep him steady and controlled, safe. Like they're the only thing keeping his body from disintegrating into a thousand broken pieces.
Jack's hand on Robby's hip moves, pushing his shirt up to expose his furry chest covered in those scarlet red ropes that Jack bound him with at the beginning of the day. The skin beneath them is almost a matching color, rubbed raw from friction, and the sight makes Jack drool. He grabs a hold on the center rope and tugs, using it as leverage to pull Robby back down on his cock, pulling the ropes even tighter at the same time. Robby half sobs-half yells, cunt tightening impossibly around Jack as he nears his second orgasm.
"Doesn't that feel good, pup? You look so gorgeous like this, you should cry more often," Jack's expression tightens as he starts to strain from the effort of keeping his pace, determined to make them cum at the same time. Sweat drips from his hairline, and his tongue slips out to lick up a stray drop before it can fall down from his lips. "Cum on my cock, big boy. You know you want to, just give in. You're almost done, give your owner what he wants."
Robby whines, eyes shut as he shakes his head; it's too much, too quickly, he's too sensitive, it's too soon -
Jack presses forward the smallest bit more, making the stretch in Robby's legs burn once again from the strain, and he's gone.
Garbled obscenities fall from Robby's lips as he cums for the second time in 20 minutes, and he's properly crying now — chest heaving as he tries to stop himself from hyperventilating while his body shakes from wave after wave of his climax crashing through him. Jack can't hold himself back any longer, and with one, two final thrusts he bottoms out and cums so hard he sees stars, joining Robby in his chorus of moans. For a long moment the only sound Jack can hear is the ringing in his ears, slowly giving way to Robby's sobs and their matching labored breathing.
Jack pulls out before his mind even registers it, taking a moment to look down between their bodies to watch the dribble of clear cum leaking from his tip onto the sheets below. He slowly lowers Robby's legs down from his shoulder and onto the bed, rubbing his thighs vigorously to try and help blood flow back to the drained limbs. Robby's still crying, face pressed into the pillow as best he can manage in his position, and Jack's heart softens. He clambers over to lay at Robby's side, cupping his tear-stained face with both hands and peppering it with kisses. Robby hiccups and leans into Jack's touch, breathing starting to finally slow as Jack coos at him and pets his hair comfortingly.
"There you go, that's it. Deeeeeep breaths, pup. You did amazing, you know that right? I'm so proud of you. Always so good for me. Just keep breathing, in… out… good boy."
Jack's voice is impossibly gentle as he soothes Robby, pressing more kisses across his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks. When Robby's eyes finally open again and meet Jack's, Jack smiles like he's the happiest man on Earth.
"How are you feeling, pup?" It's a simple question, but Robby's blissed out mind takes longer than usual to process it.
"M'fine… s-sorry f'r cryin'…" He mumbles, tongue heavy like lead in his mouth.
"Hey! None of that apologizing, it's totally ok," Jack pauses before adding, "Also was really hot, but that's neither here nor there."
Robby snorts and presses his face into Jack's shoulder, pressing a grateful kiss to the warm skin there. They're quiet for some time, just basking in each other's presence, when Robby speaks up again.
"… I don't think… I can cum again." He sounds disappointed, but Jack just laughs and reaches over to roll Robby onto his side so they can properly cuddle. Or, as properly as they can with Robby still tied up.
"All good, baby boy. Three orgasms in one day is impressive enough already for someone of your age-"
"Hey!"
"-and so I don't blame you for tapping out," Jack rubs the back of Robby's neck and squeezes. "You just owe me one more later, fair? I brought out the vibrator for a reason, after all."
Robby hums like he's thinking about it, and then nods resolutely. "Deal."
Jack grins and presses a kiss to the top of Robby's head before patting his hip and turning away from his embrace. Robby whines at the loss of contact, but Jack shushes him, sitting up in the bed so he can start finally stripping Robby and undoing the ropes. They chat idly as Jack maneuvers Robby around, tossing his clothes away to a far corner of the room before untying knot after knot, massaging the freed muscle after each one. It's easy, methodical, practiced a thousand times before now, but Jack still treats Robby with the reverence of their first time. When the last rope falls away, leaving Robby finally, blessedly naked, Jack leans back to admire his handiwork once again. His eyes trace along the path of the rope left behind, soft flesh pinched red that Jack aches to kiss better. From Robby's thighs, up the gentle swell of his round stomach; crisscrossing lines across his chest accentuating the pale pink scars underneath his pecs, and ending at his broad shoulders that carry more than they can handle at times.
Robby watches Jack as his gaze travels up, and something in his chest constricts at the pure adoration laid bare on Jack's face. He lays there silently as Jack drinks his fill of Robby's body, and when their eyes meet he reaches a hand out to pull Jack on top of him. They kiss for what seems like hours, slow and gentle, no longer in any rush, pouring their love into every shared breath until they have no more breath left to give.
It's dark by the time Robby comes to again, Jack having turned off the bedside lamp at some point. He takes a deep breath and takes stock of his body, stretching limbs and wiggling appendages to make sure everything's in working order. He winces when his lower back protests against the movement, but the rest of him seems alright, except…
"Hey, Mishka. You awake?" comes softly from behind him.
Robby blinks away the rest of his sleep as he turns to see Jack standing in the doorway to their en-suite, leaning on his crutch and holding a familiar tub of lotion in his free hand. Robby nods silently, and Jack makes his way back over to the bed, climbing into it beside Robby and sitting cross legged with the tub in his lap. Their usual song and dance after a scene, Jack treating all the rope burns with a special lotion he makes himself, and it's heavenly on Robby's skin as Jack rubs it in with his talented hands. The silence between them is peaceful, and combined with the massage Robby can feel himself nodding off again.
"Soooo… is it safe to say you wanna do it again?"
Robby snorts a laugh and almost answers in the affirmative, before suddenly remembering the look on poor Whitaker's face when he noticed the rope under Robby's scrubs.
"Um. How about we keep the rope to the clubs from now on."
"Whatever you say, pup."