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Fifteen years was a long time to know someone. Get a friend through a divorce, another through becoming a widower, and a few broken hearts between the two of them. Both tweaking their backs while helping one move; more sleepless nights with beers or couch surfing through the hard days than anyone can count on their fingers and toes. There are a lot of things that can happen in fifteen years.
There are a lot of things that did happen in the last five years. A sort of agreement. It happened over--more than three--glasses of bourbon for them both; something Jack thought Robby was fucking with him about. A mention of sometimes needing to get out of his head and that meaning someone being in control of him. Something heavy and thick in his mouth.
“Damn, brother,” Jack said, “I know we’re not a TMI kind of friendship, but…”
“Thanks,” Robby drawled, “Just saying. It’s nice. Empties my head. I don’t have to…be in charge. Whoever let’s me sit sit there and warm their cock is the one in control.”
“Because you love losing control so much.”
“I hate it. But sometimes, I need it.”
A few weeks later, Jack noticed Robby getting antsy. Asked him what was wrong and Robby made a joke about being three bourbon glasses too short to have this conversation. It hit Jack then that Robby hadn’t been joking. That kind of thing did help him. Kept him sane and calm. Of course, Jack knew being in charge like this took a toll. Made even the most sensible man start to lose his shit.
Jack had dragged Robby home that night and figured out how to help him clear his mind.
It became a thing after that. Robby would come up to Jack, say something about needing to relax or another joke about bourbon and they’d set up a time where Robby could be on his knees or laying on his stomach with Jack down his throat for as long as he needed, barring Jack needing a break. It took about three sessions for Jack to get it down to a science. A few more before Jack understood what Robby needed exactly depending on what type of unsettled he’d become.
“Hey,” Robby slides next to Jack before he can even set his coffee down. Jack grunts in response to his friend being in his space. “You’re not working tomorrow night.”
“Nope,” Jack says. He slings his bag off his shoulder before eyeing the man next to him. He has his hands clasped together almost like a prayer. They’re moving up and down like he needs something to do. “You got that new couch, right?”
“Yeah, they brought it in two days ago.”
“Maybe we can watch the game.”
“We should.” Robby knocks on the nurse hub and walks off. Jack shakes his head. They’ll have to meet up once Jack puts his shit in his locker. There was no reason for him to walk off like that. Dramatic fuck.
Jack shakes his head to himself as he adjusts to his new plan for the weekend.
There’s no game playing. At least not any either of them are interested in. Instead, there are several dozen recorded HGTV episodes of varying shows in Robby’s DVR. Robby’s still putzing about the brownstone like they need any preamble. Jack only sighs and let’s him do his thing. He sets his overnight bag on the end of the new couch.
It’s not as deep set as the last one. There’s no springs ready to poke Jack in the ass when he sits down, and it’s a nice plush. The fabric is soft under his hand. There are a few new throw pillows as well. He grabs at one of them, turning it over in his hand. His eyebrows shoot up when he sees the price tag still attached. Why anyone would pay that price for a damn pillow is a surprise to him.
Those pillows won’t be used. Jack sets it back down and listens to Robby in the kitchen. He clicks through the HGTV shows and picks an episode of Property Brother’s at random. He can hear Robby start to walk away.
Jack uses one of the fancy ass pillows to set behind his back. He leans over as the couple is introduced and starts taking off his prosthesis. He sets it next to the couch and starts massaging the limb while trying to pay any attention to the show. It’s mostly for background noise. Jack only gets half-invested at the start, and Robby’s never paying enough attention listening to know what’s going on.
Footsteps approach and Jack sits back up with a groan as his back aches from being bent over.
“Old man,” Robby says.
“You’re four years older than me,” Jack sighs with his eyes closed, “Fuck off.” There’s a light thump and Jack doesn’t need to look to know Robby’s set his pillow down in front of him. He spreads his legs open wider and can hear Robby’s own grunts as he lowers to his knees and gets comfortable. After the shifting stops, Jack finally looks down.
It’s a pretty picture every time. Robby always looks embarrassed. He’s always wearing whatever sleep clothes he’s decided make him still look slightly put together, and he’s always avoiding Jack’s eyes. He knows he needs this and yet it’s not something he gives up easily. Jack’s okay with it. He knows Robby just needs some time.
He hums and undoes his belt, watching Robby. He pops the button from the top of his cargo shorts and pulls the zipper down. Robby still isn’t looking. He doesn’t even look as Jack pulls out his soft dick and holds himself in his hand while he waits.
It’s good Robby got a new couch. On the old one, Jack would need to set much closer to the edge and have a few pillows supporting him. It had been why he grabbed one of the throw pillows to shove behind his back in the first place; muscle memory. On this couch, the pillow isn’t need. Robby is much closer—easier to see the red on his face as his humiliation grows—and Jack doesn’t need to readjust. He’s already in the perfect position for Jack’s cock.
“C’mon,” he murmurs, “Just maintenance.”
“Just give me a second,” Robby snaps. Jack raises his brows at the sudden tone shift. He’s ready to shove his dick back into his pants and ask Robby what’s really going on. Then, Robby’s hands are on his clothed thighs, running up and down him. Jack relaxes. Robby does need and want this. He’s just extra jumpy. Jack smirks to himself a little as he knows what that means for both of them.
Jack looks up as Robby continues his ministrations. They’re already showing the houses and the couple is deliberating. The houses were older and had drab carpet throughout. Jack scoffs at the talk about something more being underneath. Only thing under them is asbestos. Enough renovation injuries came through for Jack to know he’d never touch his own place like that.
The hands on his thighs slow and move to his hips. Robby’s arms wrap around him and Jack looks down as the husband says something about the closet size not being a problem. (Which Jack thinks is bullshit. It’s the one thing his wife wants.)
Jack adjusts the hold on his cock, having forgotten he was even holding it in the first place. Robby finally looks up at him, embarrassment still there, but waning. He keeps his eyes on Jack’s as he opens his mouth and leans forward.
“There you go,” Jack praises, “Just the head.” Robby makes an offended noise but does as he’s told, wrapping his lips around the tip of Jack’s cock. His tongue licks at it a little before settling.
“You wanna hold it?” Jack asks. Robby doesn’t answer, his arms wrapping tighter around Jack. “Alright. I’ll hold it.” He looks away from Robby once it’s clear the man is comfortable.
The point of this isn’t for Jack. It’s not for him to get hard and it’s not for him to get off. That’s always how it ends, though. So he strokes what’s not in Robby’s mouth to help. The warmth around the tip of his cock is a good help too.
Robby’s not making any noise. Just the soft breathing through his nose as Jack watches his show. Every once in a while, he brushes his thumb against Robby’s lips where they’re stretched around the head. They’re spit-slick and the pad of his thumb slips against it easily. When Jack looks down at the end of the first episode as he does it, Robby’s eyes are fluttering against the feeling.
“Want a little more?” Jack asks. Robby nods and Jack runs his free hand through the hair on the back of Robby’s head, pushing him further down the shaft of his cock. He pulls his hand away and stops Robby when he’s halfway down. It takes a lot of his will-power to not twitch his hips upward to chase the warmth. Cock warming isn’t really Jack’s thing. Sure, it’s nice, but it’s really a test of patience for him. And for Robby, Jack would wait forever.
The whine Robby gives when Jack stops him reverberates up his cock and through his core.
“Shit,” Jack hisses, “You’ll get more in a minute.” It’s more for his own stability than it is for Robby’s throat.
Jack forces himself to look away from Robby and start the next episode. He keeps the hand in Robby’s hair, scratching at his scalp and lightly tugging on the strands. There’s a few contented sighs at the tugs. When Jack checks on Robby again, the man’s eyes are fully closed.
The warmth around his cock is making it fill up more and more. Usually, it takes a while for him to get fully hard. The cocktail of drugs he’s on just to make sure his leg isn’t in constant pain does that. Everything else the VA has him taking for PTSD tries to make sure of it. Jack’s nothing if not stubborn. It’ll still be a while.
Half-way through this episode, Jack pushes on Robby’s head. There’s a relieved noise and Robby gratefully takes the rest of Jack’s dick down his throat, breathing through the intrusion. It’s impressive how easily he can take it. The swallowing massages Jack’s dick from all around and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep from white-knuckling the hair in his hand or thrusting into the throat.
It takes a while to get his breathing under control and when he does, Robby has his nose buried in Jack’s pubic hair. The first time they did this, Jack apologized and offered to shave if Robby ever needed it again. With a hoarse voice, he’d told Jack he prefers it. Said something about it being easier to smell him, so it helped keep him calm and in the moment.
“Good boy,” Jack murmurs. He helps Robby rest his head on the crease between Jack’s hip and his thigh. Another contented sigh from the man on the floor. Fondness blooms in Jack’s chest as he watches Robby. His whole figure is relaxed like this, his breathing is even, and there’s something about the way he’s wrapped so wholly around Jack that makes his chest hitch. It’s not just the fact he has his dick warming in Robby’s mouth. It’s the arms wrapped around him as if Robby wants to be as close to Jack as he can.
It would probably be weird to start crying about the trust Robby has in him while his half-hard cock is shoved in Robby’s throat. Instead, Jack looks back up to the TV and let’s Robby do what he needs.
Every once in a while, there’s a swallow around his dick. Or Robby suckling on the thing to remember it’s there. Sometimes there’s a hum or whine and when that happens, Jack shushes him and runs his nails over Robby’s scalp to remind him he’s not gone anywhere. Not that he could with his dick preoccupied. It doesn’t matter, because it helps Robby ease back into that headspace he needs where he’s not thinking about anything.
By the end of the fourth episode, Jack’s fully hard. Probably leaking straight into Robby’s throat if the increased swallowing is anything to go by. Each swallow only sends more pleasure zipping through Jack. He’s used to being quiet, though, so hiding his moans is nothing new. If it’s uncomfortable for Robby, he’s not doing anything about it. Still making those content, soft noises every time.
When the fifth episode ends, Jack knows he won’t last. It takes him a while to get hard, but not long for him to get off. The warmth of Robby, plus how his throat constricts with every swallow of spit or cum or mixture, and the way he hums is driving him closer and closer.
“Hey,” Jack taps Robby’s cheek with the ends of his fingers to get his attention. The bleary blinking mixed with Jack able to see his dick outline against the throat as Robby tries to look up almost does it for him. “If you wanna keep my cock in there, I need to take a break.” Robby’s brows furrow together. The fogginess in his eyes isn’t lifting, but he’s slowly processing the words.
It takes until the end of the credits and the next episode starting for Robby to respond. He taps twice against Jack’s back to let him know it’s okay. He’s had enough and it’s Jack’s turn.
Robby adjusts, moving slowly. Jack helps him sit up a bit more until he’s comfortable. His hands move to grip Jack’s hips. He can’t get as much leverage against the ground. Even as he grabs either side of Robby’s head with his hands, fingers curling into the hair, Robby will be doing most of the work. It’s how he likes it and Jack, like always, is willing to oblige.
There’s no warning. Robby slowly pulls back and the change in temperature is just enough to have Jack almost whining at the loss. It doesn’t last long. Robby tongues at the slit before sliding back down the shaft, Jack’s cock snug in his throat once again. It doesn’t last.
The pace isn’t fast. It’s enough for Jack. To get him groaning and sighing Robby’s name. For Robby’s tongue to press flat against the underside just right and make Jack writhe.
Each duck of the head down, each hollow of Robby’s mouth gets followed by him swallowing around the cock, making lewd sounds and getting Jack’s blood roaring. He can hear the click of Robby’s throat, feel how it constricts and slides his cock down so easily.
“Fucking made for this, huh?” Jack manages to gasp out. It’s the most coherent sentence he’s said in minutes. The rest were broken off moans of Robby’s name. “Jesus, Mikey.” His hands tighten in the strands of Robby’s hair, his hips thrust up just a little.
As much as he wants this to go on forever, Jack can already feel himself approaching an orgasm. It’s tight in his gut, his dick twitching in Robby’s mouth. The tongue keeps laving against him, not taking a break. Not that Jack would ever want it to. The tight heat of Robby’s throat surrounds his cock again and he’s taking a break to just swallow and groan. His eyes are fluttering and red. They’re a little teary and Jack wipes a shaking thumb under them as a tear threatens to run over.
“Not gonna,” he takes a breath as Robby pulls up his cock. This time, he doesn’t protect his teeth and the scrape is delicious. “Not gonna last long.” Robby whines in protest. “I know. I know. How do you want it, hm?”
Robby stares up through his wet lashes at Jack. It’s a gorgeous sight. He’s still trying to watch Jack’s face as he buries his nose in the pubes at the base of Jack’s cock again. He’s fucking huffing the scent of Jack and his tongue is licking and rolling against his underside. Jack moans as his head tips back. His hips twitch into the warmth against the palms of Robby’s hands. His cock is being swallowed around.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—” Jack doesn’t get to finish his warning. Robby moans, the vibrations setting him off. His cock pulses cum down the man’s throat. To his credit, Robby doesn’t sputter as Jack writhes and tries to fuck himself into the wet heat. He swallows dutifully and has Jack panting as he comes down from it.
Even once he’s done, Robby moves off the soft cock slowly. He’s slurping at the spit and cum left behind as if it’ll help clean him. It really only has Jack wanting to flick Robby due to the overstimulation, but he won’t. He could have let this session go on for longer. Robby still needs to feel him.
“Want me to take care of you?” Jack says once Robby finally pulls off his cock with a pop. He winces as he tucks the still wet thing back into his boxers. He doesn’t get to zip up his shorts as Robby stands on shaky legs and pushes him to lay down. “Robby, you’re hard. Let me—”
“Just wanna cuddle,” Robby mumbles. It’s soft and heavy. Like he might fall asleep at any minute. Jack stares at his friend. That fog is still there, his beard is soaked with drool and cum. They should be cleaning up, but Robby’s moving to lay down on top of Jack, his hands pressed into the too-small-new couch that’s not big enough for both of them.
“Yeah,” Jack croaks, then clears his throat, “We can do that.” Robby’s almost collapses. He slows himself, adjusts so he can be in a comfortable position. It ends with his still-hard dick in the divot of Jack’s hips, his head resting on Jack’s clavicle, and his arms trying to wrap around Jack.
Jack sighs and turns his head to keep watching his show.
“We’ll clean up later,” he promises. Robby’s already snoring.