goodfellow | for Thomas

"Your ego is intact, too," Thomas murmured dryly, pouring another drink for himself. Finally he was starting to feel it. Good.

So was Robin. Finally. Even as he poured again.

He stayed turned toward the bar, not looking at Thomas.

"Thank you."

Thomas looked at his back for a minute. "Don't mention it."

Robin decided to take that statement at face value.

He poured shots this time. Did one. Then two.

Then finally turned from the bar and walked over to the couch, looking down at Thomas. "Don't you want to know if I deserved it?"

Thomas looked up at Robin, his eyes rapidly lightening toward silver. "Glass houses," he answered. "I've done things I'm not proud of." And he hadn't lived anywhere near as long as Robin.

Robin focused on Thomas' eyes.

"You're hungry."

Thomas smirked up at him. "Fighting assassins and healing from a bullet wound works up an appetite," he murmured, his eyes fully silver now, as he breathed in Robin's scent.

"A bullet... fuck." Robin hadn't realized, and he was alarmed for a moment, before remembering that Thomas was obviously fine.

"You can feed from me," he said, sitting down on the couch beside him.

"Got me in the leg. I'll be fine by tomorrow."

He watched Robin as he sat down, licking his lips. "You don't owe me," he replied, but his breathing was faster and his voice had taken on a sultry purr. He was hungry, and on top of that he'd missed the hell out of Robin. It was a difficult combination to resist.

Robin suddenly remembered why he'd left in the first place. Because... there were... feelings.

Oh, fuck it.

He grabbed Thomas' face and kissed him.

Thomas groaned and returned the kiss, shifting lightning-fast to straddle Robin and pin him to the couch, the kiss hungry and eager in more ways than one.

It had been only a day, but Robin realized that he had missed Thomas, too. It was a hell of a lot better than the bartender, that was for sure.

It felt amazing to be kissing Robin again, but Thomas didn't let himself get lost in it--or not as much as he wanted to, anyway. He wasn't going to let his demon have a chance to get the upper hand, even if he what he truly wanted was to press his naked body against Robin's and forget the last few days had happened.

"Have I mentioned you taste amazing?" he mumbled against Robin's mouth, grinding down against him as his fingers slid into brown curls, teeth scraping over Robin's lip with a low moan.

"Once of twice," Robin said, arching up against Thomas and closing his eyes. Gods, but it just felt so good being with him. And for at least the moment he didn't give a shit if it was because of an addiction or not. He just wanted him. Wanted him deep and hard and sweaty, wanted to hear his name over and over again.

Thomas got to his feet without ending the kiss, dropping his pants to the floor and kicking them aside before finally straightening with a soft gasp, eyes bright and skin pale as he watched Robin hungrily. "Amazing," he repeated, pulling his shirt up and off.

Robin slid his hands onto Thomas' chest. "Yes," he agreed. "Let me show you why I was worth saving."

Thomas straddled Robin again, kissing his way along the puck's jaw to whisper in his ear, "I already know why. I don't regret it for a second." He nibbled at Robin's earlobe, his hands gentling a little as they moved up and down Robin's sides, eyes closed as he tasted Robin, just a little for now, his hands moving down to undo his pants.

"You saved my life," offered Robin. "The least I could do is blow you." Even as he rolled his hips and sighed in approval.

At that, Thomas stopped moving. He stood up, looking down at Robin, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I told you. You don't owe me," he repeated quietly. "I'll call you that cab."

Robin sighed and let his head fall back against the couch. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Why? I like blowing you."

"Do it because you like it, then," Thomas snapped. "Not because you think you owe me. I didn't save your life so you'd be indebted. I did it because..."

But he stopped before the rest of that sentence could come out, teeth clenched. Yeah, they weren't going to talk about that. Instead he reached down and began stroking his cock.

Robin's eyes drifted, following Thomas' hand. Sliding over the utter perfect that was his own cock.

"You can feel how much I like it," he pointed out, and dropped off of the couch and onto his knees.

Thomas hadn't doubted that Robin liked it. Of course he did, that was part of what Thomas did to people. "Just don't do it as payback," he whispered one last time, his free hand moving to Robin's hair, combing through the curls.

"Haven't you learned by now that everything I do is selfish?" asked Robin before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around Thomas' cock.

He was just going to, you know, ignore some of his behavior during the battle.

Thomas was probably smart enough to not point out that oversight, but even if he wasn't, Robin's mouth on his cock was enough to make him forget how to talk altogether for a few seconds. He tightened his fingers in Robin's hair, tugging at it as he gave a small roll of his hips, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. "Fuck yes," he growled.

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