goodfellow | for Thomas

for Thomas

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.

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Robin was actually a little surprised when Thomas tied him up facing out instead of facing the wall. So much for fuck me now.

He yanked experimentally and found the rope well tied. "You want the name of my decorator?"

Thomas snorted and wandered over to the bed naked. "I'm good, thanks." He stretched out on the big bed, propped against the headboard, and reached down to casually start stroking his cock, his gaze never wavering from Robin, though it wandered from his face down his body and back up from time to time.

Robin gave him about thirty seconds before he yanked on the ropes again and then said irritably, "Okay, that's very cute. Now get back over here."

Thomas stretched, tilting his head and considering Robin. "Nah." He grinned. "In fact, I may just leave you there all night. It's such a nice view..."

Robin's eyes narrowed. "You've made your point." Though even as he said it, his gaze darkened with lust, and it didn't leave Thomas' stroking hand.

"I don't think I have," Thomas purred, and then he let his eyes drift closed, moaning arftully as he arched into his own touch almost in slow motion.

Despite the lack of touch, Robin was rock hard, and he moved his hips as if he might somehow get friction from the air.

"What... what point is it?"

Thomas licked his lips and sat up, still stroking himself. "Delayed gratification is just as hot as 'fuck me now'," he murmured, his eyes glinting silver as he looked at Robin's cock, then back up to his face. He stopped stroking to lick his hand a few times before wrapping it around his cock again, groaning at the new sensation.

"But..." Robin was grasping at straws. "But if you're not touching me you can't feed!"

"Good thing I'm not Hungry." The capital was audible but subtle. "Get comfortable, puck. You're going to be there for a while."

"Of course I'm not comfortable," Robin snapped, and then bit back a groan.

Thomas just chuckled, then got to his feet, taking a step or two toward Robin before stopping. "Since all you can do is watch...I'm willing to take requests," he offered generously.

Robin sucked in a breath. "How about untying one hand so I can touch myself?"

"Not happening. I repeat, since all you can do is watch..." Thomas ran his hand over his chest, the other hand still moving slowly on his cock.

Robin's tongue darted out to lick his lips. "In that case, I've got a whole wardrobe of sex toys with your name on them."

Thomas grinned brightly at that and headed over to the wardrobe. "Any preference?" he asked over his shoulder, opening the door.

"Whatever you'd find the most demeaning," Robin said sweetly.

Thomas snorted and turned to look at him. "I already wore panties for you today," he pointed out before turning back to paw through the toys, deciding if Robin was going to be like that he'd just pick something for himself.

Robin eyed the wardrobe. "It doesn't matter," he said. "Whatever you fuck yourself with could never be as good as my cock."

"At least I'll get off," Thomas pointed out smugly, grabbing a string of anal beads and a pair of nipple clamps connected with a chain. He considered for a moment, then added a cockring to his collection before heading back to the bed.

Robin looked at what Thomas had chosen, and made a small sound that was vaguely like "nnnngh."

Thomas just smiled and climbed onto the bed again, stretching out and grabbing the lube out of the nightstand. First the clamps were applied to his nipples with an indrawn hiss of pleasure and pain. The chain draped across his chest moved slightly with each breath as he tightened the cockring into place, then held up the string of beads. "How many should I do? All of them?" See? He was keeping Robin involved.

Robin pulled at the ropes again, his body twisting as if he thought that he could somehow still get to the bed.

"As many as you can handle," he finally said, his voice low.

"Oh, I can handle every last one," Thomas promised in a low, sultry voice. He proved it by coating the beads with lube and spreading his legs, letting Robin watch as he pressed the string, bead by bead, into himself, moaning softly with each one.

Robin cursed under his breath in Greek. "Oh come on, baby," he purred. "Don't you want me to pull them out for you?"

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