goodfellow | for Thomas

for Thomas

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.

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"Oh thank fuck," said Robin. "I'm not sure I could have operated the coffee machine right now." He grabbed for it. He took a big drink, almost burning himself, before looking out into the living room and seeing Thomas.

"Hey, don't look so upset," he said. "I'm fine. See? No need to worry yourself to death over little old me.

Thomas glared at nothing in particular. "I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about Harry." Or maybe worried wasn't exactly the right phrase.

"Ah," said Robin, and rolled his eyes. He grabbed a danish and walked into the living room after Thomas. "Worried that I was right, are you? You could just call him and ask. Or better yet, show up and see if you can catch them in the act."

"I already talked to him," Thomas growled, refusing to look at Robin's gloating face.

Robin lifted a brow. Then a slow smile curved on his lips.

"Ah. Well. Never let it be said that the puck is not wise in the ways of the... heart. I hope he sends me a thank you card."

"Shut up." Thomas shot him a glare. Harry had fucked Molly, he was at least partly to blame, and the last thing he needed was Robin rubbing it in.

Robin snorted, looking unimpressed by the glare. "Raging jealousy is not a good look on you, kitten."

"I am not jealous!" Thomas roared at him, throwing whatever was in his hand, which happened to be his phone, at the nearest wall. At least it hadn't been at Robin's face, tempting as it was. "I'm just pissed off because my brother was a fucking idiot and I'm partly to blame!"

Robin probably should have been more surprised than he was. But there were times when he'd suspected there was far more to the relationship between the two than they would admit to. And once when he was drunk and found Harry kind of attractive he'd decided that he looked a little like Thomas.

Schooling away the surprise he did have, he walked casually over to the phone and scooped it up, holding it out to Thomas. "I was going to say that you should just fuck him and be done with it," he said. "I suppose I should revise my answer now that I have more information, but... eh."

Thomas rolled his eyes and accepted the phone, turning it on briefly to make sure it still worked. By some miracle, it did. "Yeah, I'm sure that would go over really well with him," he muttered, not denying that it was something Thomas was interested in.

Robin shrugged. "Maybe not."

He stepped closer to Thomas. "Look. First of all, Harry needed to get laid more than anyone I've met in a long time. But if somehow it was a bad thing... it wasn't your fault. They're both grown-ups."

"I don't know if it's a bad thing, but it's definitely a fucking mess," Thomas said, sighing. He straightened his shoulders, fighting the urge to just lean against Robin. "And it was partially my fault. I'm the one that got her all...worked up."

Robin rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. She might have gone home a little horny, but you know it doesn't work like that. She was in control of her own decisions, and if she wanted Harry, that had nothing to do with you."

"I can't believe he actually did it," Thomas murmured, sinking onto the couch.

"Really? I can. She's smoking." Robin flopped onto the couch beside him.

"Do you need a hug or something?"

"She's also his apprentice." Thomas rolled his eyes at Robin's question. "No, I don't need a hug." He clenched his jaw briefly and looked at Robin consideringly. "What I need is a distraction."

Robin almost commented on the fact that Thomas had nearly killed him the night before with that particular brand of distraction.

But all he said was, "I'm good at that."

Maybe the same thought occurred to Thomas, or maybe something else led him to say, "We don't have to have sex."

Robin lifted a brow. "Oh? What else do you have in mind? I suppose we can fight, I'm told that's pretty distracting."

"...I didn't, really," Thomas answered, because there was no way he was about to suggest they just talk. That wasn't how this worked, even if he did want to learn more about Robin. "Nevermind." He laid a hand on Robin's leg.

Robin hesitated just a second, and then swung a leg over Thomas and straddled his lap, arms settling around his neck.

"We don't have to," he agreed. "You can just have a hug, if you'd rather."

Thomas gave Robin a doubtful look, kind of half-wishing the offer was sincere, though he was pretty sure it wasn't. "He slipped his arms around Robin's waist and muttered, "Just shut up and kiss me."

Robin kissed him, pressing himself close to Thomas and wrapping his arms around him. A memory of the night before flashed through his mind, but... oh, fuck it.

It was well established that Robin liked things that were bad for him.

Thomas wasn't likely to lose control this time, not even close. He kissed Robin back with a soft moan, tightening his hold, because it wasn't a hug if it was part of making out, right?

Of course not. Definitely not an embrace, not the way Robin slid a hand onto the back of his neck, the way his arms snaked around him.

"Name your preferred method of distraction," he purred into Thomas' ear.

"We're off to a good start," Thomas murmured, sliding his hand lightly up and down Robin's back. He smiled a little, tilting his head as his eyes drifted closed. "I want you to fuck me." Partially because with Robin topping, they would have to go slow.

Robin wasn't going to complain about that course of action, not after what had happened last night. He could use a little bit of control.

Amazing how quickly he'd forgotten about the hangover. He wondered if it was a hair-of-the-dog sort of thing.

"I can make you forget that anyone else exists," Robin murmured confidently, moving his hands to slide underneath Thomas' shirt. "No one else in the history of the world has ever fucked but you and me."

"I know," Thomas whispered as he slid the robe from Robin's shoulders, fingers brushing down his chest with a soft sigh, for once all too happy to let the demon have more control, to let his own tangled and wistful thoughts take a back seat.

Robin smiled, pleased with that answer. He bent his head and kissed Thomas' neck. "I know you can't be hungry," he murmured, and tugged on Thomas' earlobe lightly with his teeth. "So you just want me."

"This isn't the first time," Thomas answered, scratching his nails lightly up Robin's sides. "It's not always about the Hunger." In fact, most of the time it wasn't about the Hunger, beyond the fact that he didn't have to be so careful.

"Any more requests regarding the method of distraction?" Robin purred, hands going to the fastenings on Thomas' pants. "Couch, bed, balcony? Chocolate sauce? Feathers?"

Thomas gave a faint shake of his head. "I put myself in your capable and talented hands." Because right now he didn't want to think. About anything.

Robin slid off of the couch, onto his knees, the robe falling entirely off his body as he did so. He yanked down Thomas' pants the rest of the way and tossed them to the side.

Then he hooked his arms underneath his legs, pulling him farther up and spreading his legs. Then he proceeded to use his capable and talented tongue to lick him open.

With a groan, Thomas slumped back against the couch, spreading himself even further as his fingers grasped for purchase against the slick leather. "Fuck..."

Robin had every intention of making Thomas fall to pieces as completely as he possibly could. His tongue worked at him with gusto, and one of his free hands skidding across is skin - his thighs, his stomach, even his cock. Even as he kept going, he lifted his eyes so that he could see Thomas' face.

Thomas let out a breathless moan, brushing his fingers lightly through Robin's hair, his hips moving a little.

Robin pulled away, patting Thomas' ass lightly. "You," he said softly, "stay right there. Don't move. I'm going to get lube and then I'm going to fuck you into this fine leather couch."

"I'll stay here, but I might move," Thomas answered with a smirk, reaching down to let his palm drift lightly along the length of his own cock. "So you'd better be fast."

Robin licked his lips as he watched Thomas. "Only if you think of me," he purred, and moved back to the bedroom. Only to return a moment later with a bottle, though he stopped to watch Thomas rather than returning right away.

Thomas grinned and watched Robin on his way out, checking out his ass. Once he was out of sight, Thomas let his eyes drift closed, fingers curled loosely around his cock, moving in slow strokes, just to tease himself while he waited. Yeah, this was much better than thinking about things.

Robin stood about two feet from Thomas, stark naked, looking down at him with an expression of pure hunger.

"Don't stop on my account," he purred.

Thomas smiled up at him. "I didn't plan to," he promised, lazily rolling his hips, feet perched on the edge of the couch and legs still spread wide.

Robin watched him with clear hunger in his expression. "God you're a beautiful sight," he murmured, walking just close enough so that he could draw the fingers of one hand lightly along Thomas' calf. "That's right, touch yourself, baby. Do you know how hot that is? You are? I could get hard just conjuring this up in my memory later."

"I hope you do," Thomas answered, still smiling. "But for now, how about you join in?" He reached his free hand out to take Robin's, tugging him closer. "Unless you just want to sit back and watch me get off instead."

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