here, have some wild night away fic. iām rusty and pressed for time these days but it had to be done
a snapshot between rounds two and three
In the time it takes Aaron to piss and rinse his mouth out under the bathroom tap, his heart just about settles back to its usual pace.
The scene in the bedroom put paid to that pretty quickly though, and Aaron allows himself the luxury of loitering in the doorway to survey the absolute mess theyāve made of the place.
There are pillows strewn across the floor (one very carefully positioned over by the mirror in the wardrobe door - put there by Robert to protect his old man knees, obviously.)
Thereās a half empty bottle of poncy imported lager tipped over by the window, dark stain soaking into the carpet. Aaron has a vague memory of dropping it there when Robert had first started to tug his shirt free from his waistband, winter pale flesh under forgiving, expensive lighting.
The bedās the star of the show right now though, once-pristine white sheets wrinkled and rucked up around the outline of Robertās body. Heās sprawled right where Aaron left him, starfished across the centre of the bed, face still tucked into the crook of his elbow. He hasnāt even moved his knee down, legs still spread around the ghost of Aaronās thighs. If it wasnāt for the mess on his belly, cock soft and red against his thigh, Aaron would think he was still waiting for it.
āAre you just going to stare at me all night?ā Robert asks, muffled.
Aaron shrugs even though no one can see him. āThinking about it. Viewās half decent.ā
He watches Robertās chest shudder with the laugh he huffs out. Tries not to think about the come-dark patch of hair flattened under Robertās belly button, what that would taste like, whether Robert would try to kick him away or drop his thighs even further apart for it.
Turns out a night away is all it takes these days to turn Aaron into a teenager again, if his own dick fattening up again is anything to go by.
He drops a hand to pull at it, canāt help himself. And heās most of the way to fully hard by the time he realises Robertās looking at him now.
āNot that I mind being objectified,ā Robert says. āBut are you planning on doing anything with that or should I sort myself out?ā
Aaron rolls his eyes fondly. āWhen have you ever sorted yourself out?ā he scoffs.
āDonāt tell me youāve forgotten about the Swindon trip already,ā Robert says, but heās curling a hand around his spent dick, ring finger dipping down behind his balls, to where Aaron knows heāll still be wet with Aaronās come, probably still stretched open.
āYouāre not listening to a word Iām saying are you?ā
Aaronās gaze flicks flicks back up to Robertās face, but he doesnāt feel guilty, and Robert doesnāt look offended.
āSorry, were you talking?ā Aaron asks, drags his eyes as deliberately as he can back down the length of Robertās body.
Thereās a bite mark on the inside of Robertās left thigh, high up where the skin is thin. Aaronās suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to heft those thighs back up over his shoulders and remind Robert exactly whoās in charge here.
Robert doesnāt need to make room for him when Aaron knees his way back on to the bed, but he does somehow anyway.
Robert looks down at him, eyes dark. āYou could probably just put it in,ā he says. āIf you wanted.ā
Aaron wants. But there are other things he wants more than getting his end away for the third time in as many hours. He wants Robert panting, wants his head tipped back, hands braced on the fancy headboard. Wants to look up the long line of Robertās exposed throat, watch him struggle to swallow. He wants Robert as overwhelmed as Aaron feels right now.
And thereās only one way to do that.
Aaron palms Robertās knees, shuffles closer, holds Robertās gaze as he very deliberately strokes his thumb over the flat of his tongue. Itās worth it for the way Robert curses, air punched out of him.
āAaron,ā he says, that half-panicked, anxious voice that means Aaronās going to get exactly what he wants.
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