goodfellow: (hee)
When Robin came, he thrust so hard into Neal that the table lurched and the crystal vase crashed to the floor, shattering. He didn't care. They'd only gotten there about an hour ago, but the place was already a wreck, since the second they'd closed the door behind them, it had been a flurry of debauchery. Starting with Robin shoving Neal back against the table by the door so that he could blow him, knocking off the bowl with his keys and wallet in the process. Then shoving all of the books and wine glasses off of the coffee table and onto the floor so that Neal could sit on it while he blew Robin. And then the kitchen table, the one with the vase - Neal bent over it while Robin fucked him with great abandon. He was glad Neal knew he wasn't human so that he didn't have to pretend to have a normal refractory period.

How had they gotten here? Well, they'd run into each other in the gym at the gentleman's club, and Robin had explained to Neal about how there was no longer anyone trying to kill him. And he'd have to figure out some other way to pay off his debt since he no longer needed information about hits out on him in the city. Neal had suggested dinner - celebratory, of course. And Robin had suggested that him paying for it would be a nice dent in the debt, especially with the way Robin could drink.

A significant bar tab sized dent into that debt later, they'd gone back to Robin's place. And Robin intended to take advantage of it. He was feeling especially... vigorous, that night. And he hadn't fucked anyone but Thomas in longer than he wanted to admit, and was ready to make up for it.

He pulled out of Neal and groaned. "We have got to stop breaking things."

for Jackie

Sep. 26th, 2011 06:21 pm
goodfellow: (a LOT better than you)
The restaurant itself was hard enough to get into, though Robin could manage it. The hidden casino practically required an act of God, and Robin had finally managed that as well. What money couldn't get you, a little charm could usually get the rest of the way - and if there was anything left, then there was always the con. Robin was well acquainted with all three of those things.

His three-piece suit was impeccable, monochromatic in black and white tailoring, wing-tip shoes, and a fedora, the only splash of color the red silk handkerchief that was perfect for flashes of distraction.

Robin had been around since before gambling was invented, and knew every cheat that had been invented after. Counting cards was pedestrian, aces up sleeves lacked finesse. Though having been at the casino a few times now, he had managed both without the least suspicion, and brought home a substantial winnings. Considering this, he probably should have been more cautious, since the big winners have the most eyes on them, but a puck was nothing without his arrogance.

Also without his scotch, which he was drinking like it was water while he stood at the craps table.

His technique was flawless. The loaded die was a thing of beauty, and so was his slight of hand. Well, almost flawless - the flash of something between his fingers was only due to the alcohol, he'd say later. But not even the dealer noticed.

And neither did Robin notice the cameras aimed right above him.

for Thomas

Sep. 16th, 2011 06:53 pm
goodfellow: (scheming)
It was perhaps two in the afternoon, and Robin was in his apartment waiting for Thomas. The place was messier than usual - mostly because he hadn't gotten a new housekeeper yet. He should do that, he just... hadn't gotten around to it. It had nothing to do with the fact that he last one had tried to kill him.

Half an hour ago, Robin had called the salon. He'd said only: "I took the afternoon off. If you do too, I'll blow you before you can can get more of a foot into my apartment." To his credit, he'd at least made sure that Thomas was the one who'd answered the phone, but he hadn't waited for a response before he'd hung up.

Maybe it was his way of showing that he had some power over Thomas... or maybe he just really wanted a cock in his mouth. Either way, when there was a knock at the door, he opened it, yanked Thomas inside by his shirt, and dropped immediately to his knees.

for Thomas

Aug. 25th, 2011 07:42 pm
goodfellow: (curly)
When Robin woke, his fingers immediately went to his neck. Not only was the blood gone, but there was no wound. He wondered for a moment if he was dead... but no, he felt too shitty to be dead, he decided. Even if it was mostly non-physical.

He registered vaguely that he was in Thomas' bed and didn't care, just rolled over onto his stomach, put the pillow over his head, and groaned.

for Thomas

Jul. 23rd, 2011 05:29 pm
goodfellow: (superior)
The night before, Robin had already felt like he had a hangover when he'd woken from unconsciousness, and when waking after the sleep of being utterly dead to the world, he didn't feel a lot better. He groaned and looked over at the clock, surprised at how late it was, how long he'd slept.

He forced himself to climb out of bed, and threw on Thomas' robe that was hanging above the door. Squinting into the daylight coming in through the windows in the main part of the apartment, he stumbled into the kitchen, intent on making coffee. Where the hell was Thomas anyway? He damn well should have brought him breakfast in bed.
goodfellow: (laugh)
It was Friday night, and Robin had dragged Thomas to a bar because (a) he wanted to get drunk, and (b) he didn't want to be alone and out if he was drunk since bullet-proof vests only got you so far. Robin could take down an entire crowd with a hand behind his back in a bar fight even three sheets to the wind, but it's hard to dodge a sniper if you can't walk a straight line.

"Did I even tell you about the time I fucked the Virgin Queen?" he asked Thomas loudly before curling his hand around a freshly-poured pint.
goodfellow: (a LOT better than you)
[continued from here]

"I'm going to take such good care of you, kitten," Robin purred.

He thought of some simple command he could provide, and finally said, "I want to see you. All that creamy skin." He breathed hot into Nathaniel's ear. "Skin that goes pink so easily, I'd wager."

He stepped backwards and said, "Strip," his eyes on Nathaniel, waiting to see if he would do it well or meekly.

for Thomas

May. 6th, 2011 09:31 pm
goodfellow: (laugh)
Robin was "home" early from work because he'd sold a car for approximately three times what it was worth with the customer kissing his feet by the end. Seemed like a good reason to call it a day on a good note, and so he'd driven his own car way too fast down a busy street back to Thomas' place.

Thomas was still at the salon, and so Robin puttered around for a bit, bored. He took off his shoes and socks and jacket, drank a glass of wine, drank another glass of wine, and then started snooping around. He hadn't done a lot of that, considering how long he'd been staying here. He liked to think it was because Thomas was usually home when he was, or because he didn't care enough, rather than something like respecting the vampire's privacy.

He was glancing through the coat closet when he heard the front door open. It was pretty innocuous, the coat closet, so he didn't bother to stop. Instead he pulled out a hideous crocheted scarf, holding it between his hands and turning to regard Thomas (who looked as edible as always).

"I didn't take you for the handmade-by-grandma style," Robin said dryly, looking at the scarf with some distaste.
goodfellow: (post-debauched)
[continued from here]

Robin was bound to the bed. His breath grew shallow, his body tensing with anticipation. He was uncharacteristically docile. Because this was an uncharacteristic need that Thomas was fulfilling for him; it wasn't about challenge, it was about punishment.

"I've been very bad," he breathed.
goodfellow: (Default)
[continued from here]

A pleased little smile quirked at Robin's lips as he looked down at Neal on his knees. A lovely sight, truly. Magnificent.

He reached out and ran his fingers lightly through Neal's hair. "I grow increasingly pleased with my decision."
goodfellow: (hee)
It had only been a few days since Robin had moved in with Thomas. Temporarily, of course. Honestly the details of how it had eventually been agreed to were still a bit fuzzy since he'd been completely shit-faced at the time, but the truth was, as much as Robin valued his freedom, he valued his life more. And Harry was possibly right that he needed someone to watch his back.

Besides, there were worse things than sharing Thomas Raith's bed on a regular basis. In fact, he'd waited three whole days before bringing home someone else.

Two someone elses, actually. Women he'd met at a bar after work. Their names were Melissa and Ginger, and they were only in town of the weekend. And Melissa had great legs and Ginger had been sucking on a straw in an incredibly promising way when he'd seen them.

He rolled into Thomas' apartment at about 10pm with a woman on each arm. They were laughing and looking incredibly happy to have his attention.
goodfellow: (hee)
[continued from here]

"The specials?" Robin repeated with a little smirk. "Let's see..." He ran his fingers through his chestnut brown curls and then slid onto Dick's lap, straddling him. He almost said 'roasted puck' but considering that Dick had no idea what a puck was, best to bite that one back. "Not sure, but I can guarantee it's hot. Smoked, probably."
goodfellow: (who me?)
It had been a good day at Robin's car dealership. Just before closing, he'd talked a mother into buying a three-year-old sports car for her 16-year-old son; from the looks of him, he'd have it wrecked within the week and back for another - at which point he could recommend a nice safe SUV with all the bells and whistles that cost even more than the first one.

He was also expecting a visitor. Thomas Raith, who never failed to put him in a good mood. More than a good mood. What Thomas Raith put him in were orgasms that curled his toes for days. They'd only met two months ago, but he was already far more regular a sex partner than Robin had had in a very long time - but then, anyone who was more than a one night stand amounted to "regular" for Robin.

Everyone else had already gone home, except for a janitor who was sweeping the show room. Robin caught a glimpse of Thomas' lovely head of hair and met him just outside. "Can I interest you in... let's see, something fast, something powerful, something in white, perhaps?" he asked as soon as he opened the door to greet him.
goodfellow: (post-debauched)
Robin woke to the sound of a key in the door.

He groaned a little and turned over, blinking awake in the general direction of the clock. It was 10am. Wait, what day of the week was it? He rolled over onto his side and nudged the figure in the bed next to him. Willy was tangled up in the sheets. And sticky. They were both sticky. As were the sheets. Probably because all of these things were covered in honey.

"Wake up, wake up," he said with a yawn. "We're about to be interrupted."

Dick (NYE)

Jan. 1st, 2011 09:34 pm
goodfellow: (hee)
[continued from here]

Robin and Dick made their way to one of the very nice bathrooms in short order.

It was empty when they came in, but Robin yanked Dick into the largest stall and shoved him against the door. Robin was stronger than he looked.

"If I were slightly less turned on right now I might suggest I just drop the cash for a room upstairs," he purred, pressing against him. "But I'm not sure I could wait another second."
goodfellow: (love the world)
[continued from here]

When the man's pants fell to the floor, Robin's eyes slid downward as his tongue skated over his lips. "Oh is that what I'm saying?" he teased in response to the comment about eating him.

And with a little swivel of his hips, his own pants dropped. He wasn't wearing underwear, which wasn't unusual.

He looked back up with an expression that clearly read: Please, no applause.
goodfellow: (hee)
Robin could hardly hear a thing over the massive cheers and applause from the crowd as two burly football players righted him back onto his feet beside the keg. He looked out at the crowd then and without pause took a flourished bow. "This is good shit!" he announced, to more cheers.

The word around the frat party was that the older guy with the curly hair was a grad student who'd once been a member of the same frat in another city and held some record for most keg stands in a single night.

He'd get to another one later. Sometimes he just felt like... recapturing his youth.

for Hermes

Jul. 7th, 2010 02:55 pm
goodfellow: (superior)
[continued from here]

Robin managed to stop laughing long enough to say, "Oh no no no, you are not going anywhere until you elaborate on this little arrangement of yours. I am enraptured with curiosity."

"I don't see what there is to elaborate about," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Robin.

Read more... )
goodfellow: (ate a canary)
[continued from here]

"So, am I handcuffing you to the furniture here or did you really have some place in mind?" Tereus said right before he swallowed Robin's answer in a deep kiss.

Robin started to answer, but it turned into a mumbled "Mmmph!" into the kiss. He sagged a little against Tereus, appreciating the feeling of those strong arms around him - and by strong, he meant like two tree trunks of rock hard muscle.

"Bed," he rasped when the kiss broke, and then regained some of his control and grabbed Tereus' hand, pulling him back by the bedroom. "You'll like my bed; it's specced for orgies."

He wasn't joking about that, either; the bed was gigantic, with a headboard sculpted of curling wrought-iron pieces perfect for clicking handcuffs of tying ropes around. The bed was made only because Robin had a housekeeper, the wine-red silk sheets pulled neatly over the mattress.
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