Michael

[goodfellow]

So Michael wanted to know if Robin wanted to be fucked here in the alley or to be treated even rougher at home?

"Guess you better fuck me quickly now then," Robin said. "So there are still cabs left to get back to my place."

Comments

[goodfellow]

Robin bit his lip to keep from crying out. Which hurt, because he already had a split lip from the fight earlier. It made him grunt in pain, which turned into a grunt of pleasure. His breath started to come fast. He was close already.

[trustearned]

Michael didn't let up, although he had to make the thrusts a little more shallow in order to pick up the pace, the rhythm becoming fast and clipped, his hand vice-tight on Robin's hip.

[goodfellow]

Robin curled his hand into a fist against the wall, nails digging into his palm. When he came, he cried out, deciding he did give a fuck.

[trustearned]

Michael immediately let go of his hip to clamp his hand over Robin's mouth; the last thing he needed was to get arrested for indecent exposure. It didn't stop him from fucking him, a few more short, hard thrusts until he too came, with a low, brief groan. He stayed in place for a couple of seconds, then pulled back and took care of the condom, throwing it off in a nearby bin.

[goodfellow]

Once Michael pulled out of him, Robin pulled his trousers back up, and then he grabbed Michael's arm. "Do you want more?" His voice was low, almost a growl.

[trustearned]

Michael went still when Robin grabbed him, but refrained from doing anything about it for now. Instead, he met Robin's eyes, his own as implacable as ever. "Do you need more?"

[goodfellow]

"Always," Robin said, which wasn't that much of an exaggeration. "Want to come back to my place?"

[trustearned]

"Let's go," Michael agreed as he finished buckling his belt.

[goodfellow]

Robin was starting to sober up a little, which he didn't care for, but that could be fixed as soon as they got to his place.

"Do you have a car or shall I grab an Uber?" he asked, holding up his phone.

[trustearned]

"Go on," Michael confirmed with a nod in the direction of Robin's phone.

[goodfellow]

Fingers flashed over Robin's phone, and then he held it up. "Robert will be here in two minutes in a black Volkswagen." He led them back to the street.

[trustearned]

Michael finished wiping his hand on a tissue, then threw it in the same bin as the condom and followed Robin out into the street, happy not to ask questions about the puck's state of mind.

[goodfellow]

Robin had no intention of talking about his state of mind, either, so that worked out well.

All he said was, "I hope I'm not keeping you from something important," just as Robert-in-the-VW pulled up on the curb.

[trustearned]

"I wouldn't have stopped for you," Michael answered, and climbed into the car, greeting Robert as he did.

[goodfellow]

Robin blinked in surprise at that response, and it was on the tip of his tongue to complain, but oh, what the fuck ever. He just climbed into the backseat beside Michael and gave Robert his address. He slid a hand onto Michael's thigh.

[trustearned]

Michael just gave him a look at that, eyes glinting with something like muted amusement.

[goodfellow]

Robin's hand slid higher, with a few miles to go until they reached his building.

[trustearned]

Michael's fingers closed around his wrist, preventing his hand from reaching anything critical. But, for Robin's benefit, he did make his grip tight enough to hurt.

[goodfellow]

Robin let out a sharp, quiet gasp, but didn't complain. Instead, he just Michael hold his wrist there. See, I can be controlled.

[trustearned]

Michael looked back ahead at the road, and the itinerary the driver was taking. After a few more seconds, he loosened his hold just enough that it would no longer be painful, but did not let go.

[goodfellow]

The rest of the trip was in silence, and when they arrived and the car stopped, Robin waited for Michael to release him before climbing out of the car and going into the building. A nod at the doorman (who was used to seeing Robin with a parade of different people), and then onto the elevator.

As it started to make its way up to the top floor, Robin looked at Michael, and began to unbutton the top buttons of his own shirt.

[trustearned]

"Tell me what you want," Michael stated, leaning back against the mirror and watching Robin impassively.

[goodfellow]

"I thought you said you didn't want me to talk," said Robin, fingers nimble on buttons, revealing slivers of smooth, golden skin.

[trustearned]

"I never said that, no," Michael replied evenly.

[goodfellow]

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming," Robin said dryly, as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.

The elevator dinged open. "The first thing I want," he said as he led them to his apartment, "is another drink. And after that we can negotiate."