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Sonar kissed with a lot of teeth. Teeth and saliva. He was messy, sloppy and obsessive. Often vulgar and a complete pervert.
Yet Robert was still here, quite a few glasses of whiskey in, straddling his lap and letting him tonguefuck his mouth.
“Robbie, come on…” Victor mumbled against his mouth, hands tightening around Robert's waist to pull him closer, despite there not being any more space between them. “Robbiee…” he dragged it out, high out of his mind.
Why was Robert enabling him? He should have been a good boss and tossed the bag off the balcony.
The guilt was short-lived, because Victor was clawing at his chest, trying to tear his shirt down, or at least away from his neck it seemed. He leaned into the crook of his neck when he succeeded, inhaling his scent and scraping his fangs against his skin.
“No biting,” Robert said firmly.
It made Victor make a pathetic little sound of disappointment.
“You're so mean to me,” he said, still sniffing at Robert's neck, poking his tongue out to lick at his skin. “So mean. All I want is a little taste…a little bit of your blood.”
Robert shook his head firmly again, pushing his head away.
“I said no. I can't go to work with your teeth marks all over me. Plus blood makes you go crazy.”
“Crazy feels so good,” Victor stated.
No doubt about that.
He tried again, fangs scraping the side of Robert's neck. It made him shiver, still, he pushed him away again by grabbing him by the nose.
“I’m going to muzzle you if you can't stop.”
Victor seemed equally excited and disappointed by the prospect of it, so Robert peeled himself away from his lap to find what he was looking for. He vaguely remembered putting it away last time, and it was still there, untouched. The idea that only he gets to do this quickly went to Robert's head. He grinned to himself as he brought the muzzle back to the couch, where Victor was shamelessly palming himself through his pants.
“You should strip,” Robert said, to which Victor was more than happy to comply. His suit jacket was already discarded somewhere, followed by his shirt, pants and finally underwear, without him even having to ask.
Shamelessly, Robert stared at the grey hair covering his chest, down to his stomach into a nice happy trail Robert was always way too eager to bury his nose in. His dick was hard, nice and ready for him, curving towards his thigh.
Fuck, maybe Robert was the pervert. He almost wanted to blow him, but the weight of the muzzle quickly reminded him of the task at hand.
When he reached for Victor he opened his mouth, flashing his teeth and snapping for Robert's hand, but knowing it was coming, Robert grabbed his face and forced his mouth shut.
“I'm going to leave if you can't behave,” he scolded, though he couldn't deny how amused he was by the way he acted.
He whined like a kicked dog when Robert lightly smacked his nose and finally put the muzzle on, fastening it behind his head.
“Now. Are you going to be nice, or do I have to tie your hands as well?”
“Fuck no. No, no. Let me touch you. I'll be nice,” he rambled on in response, hazy eyes locked onto Robert's form, just out of reach. Victor looked good with the muzzle. Contained, under Robert's control. “I'm always nice,” he added, leaning forward, until Robert placed a hand on the top of his head, petting through the fur there. Surprisingly soft. Despite the dirty things he got himself into, Victor always kept himself neat and clean.
Pulling his hand back, Robert unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, letting it drop to the floor, followed by the rest of his clothing. He settled back into Victor's lap, burying his fingers into the hair on his chest instantly, leaning into his neck to nip at the skin below the fur.
“You get to bite and I don't?” he asked with feigned offence.
“I don't have giant fangs.” Robert kept going down, face buried in fur. Victor smelled good. Musk and expensive cologne. Intoxicating. “Where's your lube?”
“Fuck, I don't know. Probably somewhere in here,” he said, while digging between the couch cushions.
Instead of waiting patiently, Robert decided to slot their dicks together in the meantime instead, wrapping, or at least attempting to wrap a hand around both of them.
Victor grunted, successfully fishing out a half empty bottle from between the couch cushions. “You're so tiny,” he said, gripping Robert's waist on both sides.
“Don't insult me.”
“Oh that's not an insult. You know what's an insult? The fact that you are here at all, slobbering all over me. You think you are in control, but you're the one who's going to get fucked to tears.”
Robert swallowed, reaching behind Victor's head with a quick motion to grab the strap of the muzzle and yank his head backwards. It made his eyes roll back, his dick leaking onto Robert's hand.
“You’re such a mean bitch. I love it. Keep it up,” he grinned.
“You’re insufferable.”
“Can I finger you?”
Robert huffed in defeat, lifting himself up enough for Victor to grab his ass properly. The metal of the muzzle pressed on his skin as he leaned into his neck again, pushing his tongue against the cage for a little taste. Robert didn't stop him this time, too focused on what his hands were doing.
He pushed a greedy finger inside, making Robert have to bite back a little noise, wrapping his arms around Victor's neck to ground himself. He hooked a finger in the strap of the muzzle again, pulling just enough to remind Victor to behave. For now, he did. He was careful enough not to hurt him more than Robert found pleasurable, stretching him out, just as messy as he kissed.
It made him feel feverish. Unless the fever was simply induced by substance abuse.
No, Robert didn't do coke, despite Victor's countless offers, but he did take an edible before even leaving his house for the night and that mixed with the whiskey was quite enough to make him feel fucked up. In a good way.
Fucked up and needy.
He lifted up, swatting Victor's hand away to instead lube up his dick. With no objections from him, he sank down, blinking away the tears collecting in his eyes from the burn. He wouldn't let Victor be right, he was not gonna be fucked to tears.
Immediately, his hands returned to grasp Robert's waist, urging him to move. He didn't bother starting slow, holding onto the leather strap and the back of Victor's neck, he started moving, driving his cock inside deeper every time he sank back down.
“Fuck, Bobby, that's good,” Victor groaned, his voice dropping to an almost animalistic growl. “Sosogood.” He pressed the muzzle against Robert's face, as close as he could, dripping saliva down his neck.
It should have been gross, but Robert hardly cared when a hand wrapped around his dick, jerking him off fast, picking up the rhythm he was moving to. He arched his back, trying to find the perfect angle, the hand around Victor's neck instead coming to support himself on his knee behind him.
The new angle made it impossible to hold his moans back when he rolled his hips down, over and over.
Victor was all over his neck and chest now, licking up whatever sweat he could through the metal cage. He growled, when he pressed his tongue against the pulse point on Robert's neck, almost startling him with the intensity of it.
“I wanna taste,” he said. “A little taste, Rob.”
“No,” Robert said, trying to be firm but his breath hitched when Victor's thumb passed over the head of his dick. “Maybe…” he continued, never stopping to move, “if you make me cum.”
Victor growled again, almost painfully digging that metal into Robert's neck. Still, he complied. He stroked his dick faster, and when Robert's thighs shook from overwhelm and he stopped moving for a moment, he started bucking his hips up.
Robert's head fell forward against Victor's chest, moaning into it, while clawing at his shoulders for some sort of purchase. It felt so good, too good. Suddenly, Robert was remembering why he came here so often. To hear Victor growl into his ear, mumbling about how badly he wanted to rip his flesh open while he was deep in his guts. How the violence of it was getting him off better than anything else.
His mouth fell open when it washed over him. He burrowed his face further into the fur on Victor's neck while he came, letting him milk every last drop with languid strokes.
He was not going to cry… he was not going to cry.
Victor was properly growling now, completely devoid of any human-like sound. He kept bucking his hips up inside him, despite Robert still shaking a little from his orgasm.
Finally, he pulled back enough to look at him, the drool collecting on the sides of his mouth, his pupils blown completely wide, staring right at Robert. If he wasn't muzzled, he would sink his fangs right into Robert's shoulder, perhaps even tear a chunk of meat. Blood would smear all over his face and Robert would…
He would like it.
“You want a taste?” he asked, a loopy grin pulling at his lips.
Victor only growled in response, nails sinking into Robert's skin.
Without thinking much about it, Robert bit the side of his hand, at the base of his thumb. It felt number than usual, still he had to force his brain not to think about self-preservation and let him sink his teeth in hard enough to draw blood.
There it was finally, the metallic taste flooding his mouth.
“Stick your tongue out,” he told Victor, who was watching wide eyed the whole time, nostrils flaring at the smell of blood. He didn't have to be asked twice.
Robert lifted his hand just above the muzzle, squeezing a little to make a few droplets of blood drop onto his tongue
He knew what was coming, but that didn't make it any less sudden.
Victor let out an animalistic screech the moment the blood hit his tongue and his face, his fingers started twisting.
His eyes glowed a dangerous red, the leather strap snapping with a loud noise, the muzzle falling uselessly on the ground. There was no time for Robert to change his mind anymore, because the rest of his body was growing with it and his grip was firmer than ever on his waist, the two claws completely encircling him.
Robert cried out, the breath getting completely knocked out of his lungs as Victor's dick grew right inside him too. Too much, he wanted to say but no word came out, and Victor's grip wouldn't let up either. All he could do was pant, trying to catch his breath and adjust to the stretch.
“Robbie,” Victor said. “You with me?”
Robert heard him speak in his form many times before, but it still startled him somehow. He nodded, slowly relaxing while his body adjusted. It could never fully adjust though, not to something so huge. Good thing Robert loved the pain. His eyes rolled back, head tilted backwards. He would probably have fallen if Victor wasn’t holding him.
“Shit. You're a normie and you can take me like this,” Victor breathed in disbelief, slowly running his claws along his stomach. He pressed down, making Robert keen and himself groan. “Shit. Shit shit,” he cussed.
Suddenly, he was being thrown off balance. Picked up and tossed against the couch with Victor still just as deep inside him. He was looming over him when Robert opened his eyes, barely fitting on the couch with the wings and his whole monstrous body.
Maybe this was too insane. Maybe he shouldn't have.
Before he could move, or say anything, Victor grabbed his still bleeding hand, bringing it to his mouth. He lapped up the drying blood, moaning around it. His hips stuttered, sinking in deeper, until Robert's back arched off the couch, throwing his head from side to side, eyes squeezed shut. He didn't mean to, but he whined, tears burning his eyes again.
“You taste so damn good,” Victor groaned.
There was a twitch in his fingers, if Robert could even call them that. The claws just barely not breaking the skin, clearly holding back. He already knew the self control wouldn't last long, and he was proven right quickly enough when Victor started fucking him in earnest.
Robert couldn't move. Back still arched off the bed, supported by one of Victor's hands gripping his waist for leverage.
“You’re even smaller like this,” Victor commented, leaning into his neck to lick the sweat off his back. “And so tight.”
“I-it’s too much,” Robert mumbled, wrapping his arms around Victor's neck again. He buried his fingers deep in the fur, clinging to him to feel stable.
He won't cry.
“Is it?” Victor groaned into his ear. “You’re not even crying yet. And I know I can make you cry with my regular dick too, so this is nothing for you.”
Robert wished he wasn't right.
“Fuck me properly then,” he said. “You’re still holding back.”
“I'd kill you.”
“I don't. Care.”
Victor released a shaky breath. “Crazy fucker. I might be in love with you right now.”
Robert didn't get a chance to reply to that, because the claw supporting him actually dug into his skin this time, definitely drawing blood and leaving a mark. His breath hitched, hissing at the pain, but couldn’t deny the euphoria that came with it. Victor's other hand was keeping his thighs spread, pressed against his check.
He knocked the cushions off the couch the second he started moving again. It felt just as intense as when Victor transformed inside him. Robert let out a raw cry, clinging harder, with every limb he could. All fur, all monster under his touch.
Victor didn't talk for a while. He growled, tongue pressed against his neck, lapping up his sweat and seeking out his pulse to listen to it quicken. His fangs scraped, feeling burning hot. Robert couldn't even tell him not to bite anymore. If he wanted to, he could. There wasn't anything he could do about it.
He barely even noticed when he started crying. Every thrust drew another wave of tears from him, soaking his cheeks, filling his head with a dizzying mix of euphoria and shame. He could barely hear the noises Victor was making over his own. He wanted to scream to make it stop. He wanted it to never stop.
“There it is,” Victor was licking the tears off his face. “Fuck, I don't wanna stop,” he growled, “but you keep making these fucking noises. Does it feel good? Tell me it feels good.”
The best Robert could do was a hiccup.
“I can't stop,” Victor growled. “Using all my self control on not biting the shit out of you right now. I'm not going to stop until I come, you better hold on.”
That was fine with Robert.
He let himself fully slip away, tears soaking his cheeks while Victor made good use of his body, breathing into his neck, covering him in drool.
He couldn't make out what he was saying when he finally came, only the fact that it was so much, never seeming to stop, with Victor burrowing his huge head into the crook of his neck, mumbling something incoherent.
Robert's own dick ached, but he made no attempt to touch it. He wanted to stay like this. His heartbeat wouldn't settle, not even after he managed to get his breathing under control.
“Did I actually kill you?” Victor asked, pulling back, despite Robert's death grip on his fur. “Please tell me I didn't kill you. Robert.”
He had to laugh, absurdly enough. “You have to pull out before I actually die,” he said, voice used and raw.
“Thank fucking god,” Victor sighed, pulling out slowly. It still made Robert's face contort in pain. “That's a sight,” he commented as he slipped off the couch, pulling Robert closer to the edge of the couch. There was so much spilling out of him. If Robert had any energy left he would get up to clean himself up as soon as possible. “You want me to blow you like this?” Victor grinned instead.
“I don't think I can.”
“Oh yes you can. Let me blow your mind.”
“Why did you even ask then?” Robert laughed again at the absurdity, still barely having caught his breath.
He still wasn't ready when Victor stuck his tongue out, pressing it against his dick. It was big enough to cover it all, warm and wet. Despite the exhaustion Robert bucked his hips into the heat of it. Red eyes seeked out his own gaze and Robert couldn't really look away. He buried his fingers in the fur again, letting himself melt against the couch.
It was going to be a pain to clean up. Not his problem.
Victor moved his tongue, circling the head of his dick, drawing a weak moan from Robert. This was more like he was eating him out than a blowjob, but he wasn't complaining. Especially not when his fangs scraped his skin and he forgot what he was even going to say.
He groaned the same way when tasting Robert’s blood, eyes glowing brighter.
Robert really didn't think he had it in him to come again after all that, but he found himself bucking his hips up over and over, chasing the pleasure, his stomach twisting into knots. He didn't think it could feel this good.
“Fuck…” he whispered, trying to keep his eyes open, but quickly failing.
All it took was Victor growling against him again, the sound resonating against his dick for Robert to come a second time, thighs shaking with it.
Victor licked it all up, licking his mouth obscenely before sitting back, slowly returning to normal. “Holy shit,” he said, rolling his head on his shoulders a few times. “I'm going to crash so hard.”
“Oh you will?” Robert couldn't find the strength in himself to move. His head was spinning so bad he felt like he'd barf if he even tried.
He didn't expect Victor to pick him up like that, carefully cradling him in his arms and laying him on the actual bed a room away. “You can crash with me, princess. Fuck that actually, size queen.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I will literally never shut up about this.”
Robert groaned, trying to get comfortable. He was making a mess of the bed too. Also not his problem. “Tomorrow is going to suck so bad.”
“Yup,” Victor quickly agreed, throwing himself on the bed right next to him. “I’ll get you some of the good pain killers.”
Robert huffed into the pillow, hugging it to his chest.