Cupidity - chapter four
Nov. 8th, 2007 06:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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curious_spellsAuthor notes
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Cupidity
Chapter 4
***
Angel was sitting on the balcony on a small stone bench, looking out at the park and not thinking about how seeing his friends hadn't actually been all that much fun. Goodfellow needed a telescope or something out here.
His phone bleeped at him a little while later.
I'm having a guest for dinner. Dress up.
Angel stared at his phone. Huh. Dress up how? Did he mean a tux or something? He'd never worn one in his life.
Hi. What do you want me to wear?
Just be decorative.
They came at about seven. Angel was waiting, dressed in black jeans that clung to his hips and a sleek black stretchy dress shirt that had small black pearl buttons. He left about three too many open to show off his chest. In a silver box on his bathroom counter, he'd found some new stuff: dark little tubes of cosmetics with Gaultier Homme printed down the side. There was mascara, eyeliner, a pot of bronzer with a huge brush, and a stick of gloss for his mouth. He'd stared at it for a while, and then put the lip gloss on, and then a careful stroke of mascara. His eyelashes felt too heavy, but that was okay. If he thought about that, he didn't have to think about anything else. He combed his hair and sprayed on some cologne.
Goodfellow arrived, talking with a tall man in a dark suit.
"Eric, this is Angel."
"Pleased to meet you," Angel said.
"Likewise," Eric said, with a perfectly polite smile. "So, where did Robin find you?"
He said it with the sort of little laugh that meant he wasn't actually interested in the answer. Angel gritted his teeth and smiled, half tempted to tell him. "Oh, you know. We just ran into one another."
"Drink, Eric?"
"Oh, thanks. Vodka martini."
Goodfellow touched Angel's elbow and drew him aside. "The drinks, please. Oh, and please remember to call me Robin."
"Uh. Okay. Robin."
Goodfellow gave him an unreadable look, then nodded. His smile came back on as he turned to Eric.
Angel got them drinks and sat with them, although they didn't pay much attention to him. They talked about people Angel didn't know: family, school friends, old bosses. Angel listened to the flow of names and wondered if he'd ever know who these people were. He got a vaguely sick feeling in his stomach that he had no idea who Aunty Annie was, or Bobby and Toby, or the relevance of Carina marrying into the Zuckermann family. Goodfellow--Robin seemed to have no interest in explaining.
Dinner came, plated and served by a waitress who seemed to have been delivered along with the food. There was wine, dark and heavy on his tongue like nothing he'd ever tasted before. He almost dropped his glass when he felt Goodfellow's hand slide down his thigh at one point, squeezing.
"You look good,"Goodfellow said, then leaned close and whispered in Angel's ear. "Very fuckable."
Angel blinked, and glanced at Eric, who was watching them. Oh, no. Wait. Dress up, look decorative, let my friend ogle you? Things were adding up in Angel's head and he didn't like the total he was getting. Sex with Goodfellow, that was the deal. Nothing had been said about fucking pimping him out.
Except, again, that whole body and soul thing, which, when he thought about, could mean just about anything. He shifted in his seat and glanced at Eric. He wasn't ugly, but his hair was slicked back hard and looked crunchy, and his lips were too thin. A foot that wasn't Goodfellow's slid along Angel's calf.
After dinner, they moved to the couch. Goodfellow and Eric sipped cosmopolitans, while Angel chugged down a vodka tonic and then stopped cold. He desperately didn't want to be sober if he was going through with this, but if he got drunk, he knew there was no chance he'd say no. His foot bounced on the floor until Goodfellow put a hand on his knee.
"So, Angel," Eric said. "How long have you been in New York?"
"A few years now. I like it here. The city, I mean. Not that all this isn't nice."
Eric smiled. "You can't ask for a better slice of the city than this. Robin's done pretty well for himself." His thigh pressed against Angel's in a not particularly subtle way. "I bet they didn't have anything like this back home, hm?"
Angel wondered how much Goodfellow had said about his past, how much exactly Goodfellow knew. He thought about the flat spaces and red rocks of Utah and the stifling familiarity of the house he'd grown up in. "No. Nothing like this."
"Where are you from, anyway? Robin seems to go for the nice Bible Belt boys, but you hardly look like you came out of the midwest. Did he find you out on the left coast somewhere?"
"Uh." Usually he just told people to fuck off when they asked about his past. He didn't think that was an option here.
"It's a boring story,"Goodfellow said smoothly. "I'm sure you wouldn't be interested."
"Yeah," Angel said. "Boring. Totally. So, hey, where did you guys go to school?"
"Exeter, of course," Eric said. "Where else is there? And then it was Harvard for me, and where did you end up, Robin? Had to leave to the country for a while, didn't you?"
"Very funny," Robin said. He smiled, but it didn't sound like he thought it was funny at all. "Cambridge."
"Right, right. But we both ended up at Stanford for business school, so that was all right. Good to catch up with him and all. Life's less boring with Robin around. He always has the best toys." Eric looked at Angel.
"I'm, uh. You guys want another drink?"
"I think we'd both rather have your company," Eric said, and his hand settled on Angel's thigh.
Angel bit the inside of his cheek and tried to think. He should say no. He would say no. He might as well. He'd be out anyway once Goodfellow found out about Beth. No point in getting himself into a skeezy threesome and then getting kicked out.
"I think I would like another drink,"Goodfellow said. He handed Angel his empty glass. "A martini, thank you."
Angel nodded quickly in relief and launched himself off the sofa. He was trying to find olives when Eric followed him and stood by his elbow. He put a hand on Angel's back. The touch felt unnaturally heavy. There was more than a trace of alcohol on his breath.
"I haven't seen the guest room since Robin had it redone. Is it to your taste?"
"It's--yeah, it's great."
"Compared to what you're used to, I guess anything would be. Maybe you can show me later."
He swayed on his feet, leaning on Angel's shoulder.
"Uh."
"It's too bad you have to leave so early,"Goodfellow said, suddenly very close by.
The hand left Angel's back, and he half-turned to see Goodfellow's arm around Eric's shoulders and the sharpest smile he'd ever seen on Goodfellow's face.
"I don't really have to--"
"Nonsense. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your wife. Again. Marco will drive you home."
They were moving towards the elevator. Eric kept starting back towards Angel, and Goodfellow kept herding him onward. They were far enough away that Angel didn't hear Eric's response, but he didn't look happy. Goodfellow's face was as calm as ever, even as he manhandled Eric into the elevator. He wiped his hands on his pants after the doors closed and came over to take the martini from Angel.
"I thought he'd be over this sort of thing by now. He's been married two years."
"Do you really like him?" Angel said before he could think.
Goodfellow sipped his drink. "No. I never he did. He was considerably worse in school. But his family is very useful, and I don't care to lose the connection. It's useful for business."
"So, what is your business?"
Goodfellow watched him over the edge of his glass. "Why would you be interested?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I just want to know where all the money comes from."
Goodfellow's lips twitched into smile. "That's very sensible of you."
"So?"
"I'm in... shipping. I move things about, you could say. Logistics. I also undertake some commission-based work, on the side."
"Big commissions, huh?"
"Yes, reasonably."
That explained everything and nothing. "Moving things, like what?"
"Things that other people find tricky to move."
"What, like moving a herd of buffalo to the Antarctic?"
"Hmm, I haven't been confronted with quite that problem yet."
Goodfellow wandered back to the couch and turned on his massive television. Apocalypse Now flickered into view, just as Robert Duvall told Martin Sheen how he felt about napalm in the morning.
Goodfellow frowned. "Napalm doesn't smell any different in the morning than at night."
Yeah, and it totally wasn't creepy or anything that he knew that. Uh huh. "That was kind of out of context. It's a really good movie."
Goodfellow muted it. "Come and sit with me."
He didn't mean just sit, obviously. He pulled Angel down to straddle his lap and kissed him, sliding his tongue between Angel's lips. Angel leaned against his chest and closed his eyes as Goodfellow's hands stroked over him.
"You know, what I said earlier about calling me Robin--I didn't mean only in front of guests."
"Everyone else calls you Mr Goodfellow."
"Everyone else is not sharing my home. You're not a servant, Angel."
Angel shook his head a little, totally not getting whatever chain of logic he was following. Not a servant, but still expected to do exactly what he said. Not servant, but still servicing him--oh hell. That train of thought wasn't going to get him anywhere new, and maybe it didn't matter anyway. Goodfellow's--okay, fine, Robin's fingers carded through his hair.
He ran his fingertips down Angel's chest to the place where the shirt was buttoned, then grasped the cloth and ripped it open. The buttons popped off and skittered across the floor, and Angel's heartrate spiked. Robin was hard, Angel could feel it under him. He had his hands on Angel's hips, tight and possessive.
"You look so good," Robin said, and Angel swallowed. "Your mouth. I'd like it around me, sucking me hard." He wasn't used to hearing stuff like that.
"So, you didn't want-- Uh. A threesome?"
"Is that what you thought?"
"Well, yeah."
Robin looked up at him. His mouth was wet and there were two faint spots of color on his cheeks. He tucked a strand of hair back over Angel's ear, then leaned in to suck at one nipple. His smoothed a hand down Angel's stomach to the hard tight bulge in his jeans.
"I'm not going to share you with anyone," he said. "Do you understand?"
Angel nodded and closed his eyes. Fuck. "Yeah."
"Good. Suck me."
He slid to his knees between Robin's thighs and unzipped him and took him in his mouth. He smelled musky and his cock was thick and hot and heavy. All through it, Robin kept his hands in Angel's hair, letting it fall through his fingers. He didn't look away from Angel's mouth for a single moment, brows drawn faintly together and lips parted.
Angel closed his eyes and wondered what the fuck he was doing.
Robin went into his suite soon after, closing the door in a way that clearly said he didn't want any further company that night. Angel stared at the door for a few seconds, wondering if it was going to fly open. It didn't. Maybe Robin wouldn't even notice, he told himself. The come stains were kind of discreet.
He sat on the sofa and drank two more vodka tonics and watched Apocalypse Now until it started to freak him out. He switched it to something French with subtitles and stared until his head was nodding back on the seat. Robin still hadn't appeared to throw him out, so he guessed he should just go crash. He stripped his clothes off and crawled into bed.
He woke up hours later, not even sure why, at first. Then he realised there was something warm and heavy on his back. Hands were pinning his wrists down above his head.
"Shhh," said Robin, right in his ear, before he could even gather his wits enough to speak. He was rubbing his cock on Angel's bare ass. "It's me."
He tugged, but his hands were held tight. Robin laughed softly, grinding his hips down. He was hard and leaking. Angel could feel the wet smears on the backs of his thighs and the lubed slickness of Robin's fingers. How long had he been here?
"What're you doing?" Angel mumbled.
The room was dark, with only a glimmer of light coming under the bedroom door. The alarm clock glowed at him. It was 4.30.
"Taking what's mine," Robin said, in a cool low voice. He squeezed Angel's wrists until his nails dug in. The head of his cock nudged against Angel's hole. He could twist him off if he had to, Angel thought, fighting down panic.
"Wait. Fuck, you can't just-- "
"Do you think I'm like all your other cheap lays, Angel? I'm not. I'm not like anyone else. Remember that." His voice was low and solemn, hypnotic in the dark. "Was she good?" he said.
"She wasn't as good as you," Angel said, and it sounded, he knew, like he was trying to suck up, but it was just true. "God."
Robin kneed Angel's legs apart. "In my bed. Were you trying to make me angry?"
"No," Angel said, which was less true.
He'd wanted a reaction, something. Maybe exactly this, and the thought made his stomach twist. He turned his head to one side and could see the dark outline of Robin's hair and the pale curve of his shoulder. He should say no at this point. He should get the hell out, or something. His heart was hammering, and he wasn't moving. But then, he'd always sucked hard at knowing what was good for him. Or bad for him.
"You're lying," Robin said. His hand twisted on Angel's wrists, nails digging in deep. "I should throw you out."
"You're hurting me," Angel whispered.
Robin took his hands away. All Angel heard were the sounds of slick being squeezed out of the bottle. "Or should I fuck you?" Robin said. He leaned in. "I think you'd prefer that, wouldn't you?"
His palm landed on Angel’s ass, making him gasp in shock. His ass was still stinging as Robin pushed two slick fingers in hard and deep, twisting them. Angel arched up, and he heard Robin’s faint grunt. He swallowed around the lust that spiked hard all through his body.
“You want me to say sorry, yeah? God, I’m sorry. I am. Please.”
Robin made a low noise in his throat like a growl. He shifted position, spread Angel’s cheeks with one hand, and shoved in.
"Oh, god."
"You don't fuck around," Robin said in his ear. "Understand? Never, not without my permission."
"What if I do?" Angel got out.
"You don't. You won't. You're mine."
His hips moved smoothly, pushing his cock deep inside Angel's body over and over. Angel went from panic to arousal to thoughtless panting, and Robin just kept going. He rocked forward hard and fast, grinding Angel against the bed. Angel moaned as his dick rubbed against the sheets. Robin's fingers slipped from around his wrist and laced with his. Robin's arm around his waist hauled his hips up with shocking strength, and a hand curled around his cock.
"Oh, god," Angel said. "Yeah, touch me."
"Tell me you understand. I'm the only one who gets to touch you."
Angel nodded almost frantically, hips twisting down against Robin's hand. "I-- I do. I understand. I promise."
"Good."
Robin bit at the back of his neck and sucked there as his hips slammed forward, just a few more sharp jerks, and Robin was coming inside him, still just holding Angel's cock as he shook with the force of it.
"Don't stop," Angel said. "I'm not, you can't stop, oh fuck."
Robin pulled out and shoved him over onto his back. He pushed Angel's knees apart roughly and knelt between them. "Go on. Finish it yourself."
Like last time, but with Robin's gaze somehow even more intense. Angel's heart beat faster and faster, and he felt more than a little dizzy. Robin's eyes were very dark, and his nails were digging sharply into Angel's thighs.
"Touch me," Angel whispered, and he didn't care if he sounded like he was begging. He brought one shaking hand down to get himself off anyway, sure Robin would ignore him.
Robin stooped over him, low, and breathing nearly against his lips. His hand covered Angel's on his dick, loosely, letting Angel move both of them. Angel gasped in air and came hard as Robin bent the last few inches to kiss him.
Their lips moved together, slippery and wet, and Angel wound his arms around Robin's neck and tangled their legs together and held on. Robin's whole body stiffened, but he didn't pull away. They lay still when the kiss ended, cheek to cheek. Angel could feel both their heart beats and Robin's breath and the faint stickiness of his own come between them.
"So you're not throwing me out."
"No," Robin said. "I'm keeping you."
Angel closed his eyes. Robin smelled like toothpaste. He was warm and solid, and Angel knew he was probably holding onto him too hard. "How'd you even know she was a girl? What, do you have security cameras in there or something."
"Yes."
"Oh."
"You can sleep in tomorrow," Robin said.
"Yeah. Sure."
And then Robin was pulling away, and Angel made himself let go. Robin pulled the comforter back over him before he left. He didn't think he'd be sleeping at all, but he was out as soon as his eyes closed.
When he woke, the apartment was full of sun. Robin had left a note on the refrigerator door. Remember to shave. I don't appreciate stubble rash. It was stuck on with a small magnetic R2D2, which Angel was fairly certain he'd never noticed before. Control freak and Star Wars buff. Huh. He pulled out the orange juice and drank it straight from the carton. Mrs Bennett had been up already. Breakfast was on a tray. A credit card lay on the kitchen counter, glinting at him. The world was his for the taking, if he wanted it.
He padded across to the balcony, shoving open one huge sliding door. The water slid down the granite block and below him Central Park stretched out like a huge, green rug. A lumpy, fuzzy, green rug. His wrists had small, red half-moon shapes in them from Robin's nails.
He washed and dressed in ten minutes, grabbed the cash and his key card, and got out. He didn't shave and he left the credit card where it was.
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Cupidity
Chapter 4
***
Angel was sitting on the balcony on a small stone bench, looking out at the park and not thinking about how seeing his friends hadn't actually been all that much fun. Goodfellow needed a telescope or something out here.
His phone bleeped at him a little while later.
I'm having a guest for dinner. Dress up.
Angel stared at his phone. Huh. Dress up how? Did he mean a tux or something? He'd never worn one in his life.
Hi. What do you want me to wear?
Just be decorative.
They came at about seven. Angel was waiting, dressed in black jeans that clung to his hips and a sleek black stretchy dress shirt that had small black pearl buttons. He left about three too many open to show off his chest. In a silver box on his bathroom counter, he'd found some new stuff: dark little tubes of cosmetics with Gaultier Homme printed down the side. There was mascara, eyeliner, a pot of bronzer with a huge brush, and a stick of gloss for his mouth. He'd stared at it for a while, and then put the lip gloss on, and then a careful stroke of mascara. His eyelashes felt too heavy, but that was okay. If he thought about that, he didn't have to think about anything else. He combed his hair and sprayed on some cologne.
Goodfellow arrived, talking with a tall man in a dark suit.
"Eric, this is Angel."
"Pleased to meet you," Angel said.
"Likewise," Eric said, with a perfectly polite smile. "So, where did Robin find you?"
He said it with the sort of little laugh that meant he wasn't actually interested in the answer. Angel gritted his teeth and smiled, half tempted to tell him. "Oh, you know. We just ran into one another."
"Drink, Eric?"
"Oh, thanks. Vodka martini."
Goodfellow touched Angel's elbow and drew him aside. "The drinks, please. Oh, and please remember to call me Robin."
"Uh. Okay. Robin."
Goodfellow gave him an unreadable look, then nodded. His smile came back on as he turned to Eric.
Angel got them drinks and sat with them, although they didn't pay much attention to him. They talked about people Angel didn't know: family, school friends, old bosses. Angel listened to the flow of names and wondered if he'd ever know who these people were. He got a vaguely sick feeling in his stomach that he had no idea who Aunty Annie was, or Bobby and Toby, or the relevance of Carina marrying into the Zuckermann family. Goodfellow--Robin seemed to have no interest in explaining.
Dinner came, plated and served by a waitress who seemed to have been delivered along with the food. There was wine, dark and heavy on his tongue like nothing he'd ever tasted before. He almost dropped his glass when he felt Goodfellow's hand slide down his thigh at one point, squeezing.
"You look good,"Goodfellow said, then leaned close and whispered in Angel's ear. "Very fuckable."
Angel blinked, and glanced at Eric, who was watching them. Oh, no. Wait. Dress up, look decorative, let my friend ogle you? Things were adding up in Angel's head and he didn't like the total he was getting. Sex with Goodfellow, that was the deal. Nothing had been said about fucking pimping him out.
Except, again, that whole body and soul thing, which, when he thought about, could mean just about anything. He shifted in his seat and glanced at Eric. He wasn't ugly, but his hair was slicked back hard and looked crunchy, and his lips were too thin. A foot that wasn't Goodfellow's slid along Angel's calf.
After dinner, they moved to the couch. Goodfellow and Eric sipped cosmopolitans, while Angel chugged down a vodka tonic and then stopped cold. He desperately didn't want to be sober if he was going through with this, but if he got drunk, he knew there was no chance he'd say no. His foot bounced on the floor until Goodfellow put a hand on his knee.
"So, Angel," Eric said. "How long have you been in New York?"
"A few years now. I like it here. The city, I mean. Not that all this isn't nice."
Eric smiled. "You can't ask for a better slice of the city than this. Robin's done pretty well for himself." His thigh pressed against Angel's in a not particularly subtle way. "I bet they didn't have anything like this back home, hm?"
Angel wondered how much Goodfellow had said about his past, how much exactly Goodfellow knew. He thought about the flat spaces and red rocks of Utah and the stifling familiarity of the house he'd grown up in. "No. Nothing like this."
"Where are you from, anyway? Robin seems to go for the nice Bible Belt boys, but you hardly look like you came out of the midwest. Did he find you out on the left coast somewhere?"
"Uh." Usually he just told people to fuck off when they asked about his past. He didn't think that was an option here.
"It's a boring story,"Goodfellow said smoothly. "I'm sure you wouldn't be interested."
"Yeah," Angel said. "Boring. Totally. So, hey, where did you guys go to school?"
"Exeter, of course," Eric said. "Where else is there? And then it was Harvard for me, and where did you end up, Robin? Had to leave to the country for a while, didn't you?"
"Very funny," Robin said. He smiled, but it didn't sound like he thought it was funny at all. "Cambridge."
"Right, right. But we both ended up at Stanford for business school, so that was all right. Good to catch up with him and all. Life's less boring with Robin around. He always has the best toys." Eric looked at Angel.
"I'm, uh. You guys want another drink?"
"I think we'd both rather have your company," Eric said, and his hand settled on Angel's thigh.
Angel bit the inside of his cheek and tried to think. He should say no. He would say no. He might as well. He'd be out anyway once Goodfellow found out about Beth. No point in getting himself into a skeezy threesome and then getting kicked out.
"I think I would like another drink,"Goodfellow said. He handed Angel his empty glass. "A martini, thank you."
Angel nodded quickly in relief and launched himself off the sofa. He was trying to find olives when Eric followed him and stood by his elbow. He put a hand on Angel's back. The touch felt unnaturally heavy. There was more than a trace of alcohol on his breath.
"I haven't seen the guest room since Robin had it redone. Is it to your taste?"
"It's--yeah, it's great."
"Compared to what you're used to, I guess anything would be. Maybe you can show me later."
He swayed on his feet, leaning on Angel's shoulder.
"Uh."
"It's too bad you have to leave so early,"Goodfellow said, suddenly very close by.
The hand left Angel's back, and he half-turned to see Goodfellow's arm around Eric's shoulders and the sharpest smile he'd ever seen on Goodfellow's face.
"I don't really have to--"
"Nonsense. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your wife. Again. Marco will drive you home."
They were moving towards the elevator. Eric kept starting back towards Angel, and Goodfellow kept herding him onward. They were far enough away that Angel didn't hear Eric's response, but he didn't look happy. Goodfellow's face was as calm as ever, even as he manhandled Eric into the elevator. He wiped his hands on his pants after the doors closed and came over to take the martini from Angel.
"I thought he'd be over this sort of thing by now. He's been married two years."
"Do you really like him?" Angel said before he could think.
Goodfellow sipped his drink. "No. I never he did. He was considerably worse in school. But his family is very useful, and I don't care to lose the connection. It's useful for business."
"So, what is your business?"
Goodfellow watched him over the edge of his glass. "Why would you be interested?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I just want to know where all the money comes from."
Goodfellow's lips twitched into smile. "That's very sensible of you."
"So?"
"I'm in... shipping. I move things about, you could say. Logistics. I also undertake some commission-based work, on the side."
"Big commissions, huh?"
"Yes, reasonably."
That explained everything and nothing. "Moving things, like what?"
"Things that other people find tricky to move."
"What, like moving a herd of buffalo to the Antarctic?"
"Hmm, I haven't been confronted with quite that problem yet."
Goodfellow wandered back to the couch and turned on his massive television. Apocalypse Now flickered into view, just as Robert Duvall told Martin Sheen how he felt about napalm in the morning.
Goodfellow frowned. "Napalm doesn't smell any different in the morning than at night."
Yeah, and it totally wasn't creepy or anything that he knew that. Uh huh. "That was kind of out of context. It's a really good movie."
Goodfellow muted it. "Come and sit with me."
He didn't mean just sit, obviously. He pulled Angel down to straddle his lap and kissed him, sliding his tongue between Angel's lips. Angel leaned against his chest and closed his eyes as Goodfellow's hands stroked over him.
"You know, what I said earlier about calling me Robin--I didn't mean only in front of guests."
"Everyone else calls you Mr Goodfellow."
"Everyone else is not sharing my home. You're not a servant, Angel."
Angel shook his head a little, totally not getting whatever chain of logic he was following. Not a servant, but still expected to do exactly what he said. Not servant, but still servicing him--oh hell. That train of thought wasn't going to get him anywhere new, and maybe it didn't matter anyway. Goodfellow's--okay, fine, Robin's fingers carded through his hair.
He ran his fingertips down Angel's chest to the place where the shirt was buttoned, then grasped the cloth and ripped it open. The buttons popped off and skittered across the floor, and Angel's heartrate spiked. Robin was hard, Angel could feel it under him. He had his hands on Angel's hips, tight and possessive.
"You look so good," Robin said, and Angel swallowed. "Your mouth. I'd like it around me, sucking me hard." He wasn't used to hearing stuff like that.
"So, you didn't want-- Uh. A threesome?"
"Is that what you thought?"
"Well, yeah."
Robin looked up at him. His mouth was wet and there were two faint spots of color on his cheeks. He tucked a strand of hair back over Angel's ear, then leaned in to suck at one nipple. His smoothed a hand down Angel's stomach to the hard tight bulge in his jeans.
"I'm not going to share you with anyone," he said. "Do you understand?"
Angel nodded and closed his eyes. Fuck. "Yeah."
"Good. Suck me."
He slid to his knees between Robin's thighs and unzipped him and took him in his mouth. He smelled musky and his cock was thick and hot and heavy. All through it, Robin kept his hands in Angel's hair, letting it fall through his fingers. He didn't look away from Angel's mouth for a single moment, brows drawn faintly together and lips parted.
Angel closed his eyes and wondered what the fuck he was doing.
Robin went into his suite soon after, closing the door in a way that clearly said he didn't want any further company that night. Angel stared at the door for a few seconds, wondering if it was going to fly open. It didn't. Maybe Robin wouldn't even notice, he told himself. The come stains were kind of discreet.
He sat on the sofa and drank two more vodka tonics and watched Apocalypse Now until it started to freak him out. He switched it to something French with subtitles and stared until his head was nodding back on the seat. Robin still hadn't appeared to throw him out, so he guessed he should just go crash. He stripped his clothes off and crawled into bed.
He woke up hours later, not even sure why, at first. Then he realised there was something warm and heavy on his back. Hands were pinning his wrists down above his head.
"Shhh," said Robin, right in his ear, before he could even gather his wits enough to speak. He was rubbing his cock on Angel's bare ass. "It's me."
He tugged, but his hands were held tight. Robin laughed softly, grinding his hips down. He was hard and leaking. Angel could feel the wet smears on the backs of his thighs and the lubed slickness of Robin's fingers. How long had he been here?
"What're you doing?" Angel mumbled.
The room was dark, with only a glimmer of light coming under the bedroom door. The alarm clock glowed at him. It was 4.30.
"Taking what's mine," Robin said, in a cool low voice. He squeezed Angel's wrists until his nails dug in. The head of his cock nudged against Angel's hole. He could twist him off if he had to, Angel thought, fighting down panic.
"Wait. Fuck, you can't just-- "
"Do you think I'm like all your other cheap lays, Angel? I'm not. I'm not like anyone else. Remember that." His voice was low and solemn, hypnotic in the dark. "Was she good?" he said.
"She wasn't as good as you," Angel said, and it sounded, he knew, like he was trying to suck up, but it was just true. "God."
Robin kneed Angel's legs apart. "In my bed. Were you trying to make me angry?"
"No," Angel said, which was less true.
He'd wanted a reaction, something. Maybe exactly this, and the thought made his stomach twist. He turned his head to one side and could see the dark outline of Robin's hair and the pale curve of his shoulder. He should say no at this point. He should get the hell out, or something. His heart was hammering, and he wasn't moving. But then, he'd always sucked hard at knowing what was good for him. Or bad for him.
"You're lying," Robin said. His hand twisted on Angel's wrists, nails digging in deep. "I should throw you out."
"You're hurting me," Angel whispered.
Robin took his hands away. All Angel heard were the sounds of slick being squeezed out of the bottle. "Or should I fuck you?" Robin said. He leaned in. "I think you'd prefer that, wouldn't you?"
His palm landed on Angel’s ass, making him gasp in shock. His ass was still stinging as Robin pushed two slick fingers in hard and deep, twisting them. Angel arched up, and he heard Robin’s faint grunt. He swallowed around the lust that spiked hard all through his body.
“You want me to say sorry, yeah? God, I’m sorry. I am. Please.”
Robin made a low noise in his throat like a growl. He shifted position, spread Angel’s cheeks with one hand, and shoved in.
"Oh, god."
"You don't fuck around," Robin said in his ear. "Understand? Never, not without my permission."
"What if I do?" Angel got out.
"You don't. You won't. You're mine."
His hips moved smoothly, pushing his cock deep inside Angel's body over and over. Angel went from panic to arousal to thoughtless panting, and Robin just kept going. He rocked forward hard and fast, grinding Angel against the bed. Angel moaned as his dick rubbed against the sheets. Robin's fingers slipped from around his wrist and laced with his. Robin's arm around his waist hauled his hips up with shocking strength, and a hand curled around his cock.
"Oh, god," Angel said. "Yeah, touch me."
"Tell me you understand. I'm the only one who gets to touch you."
Angel nodded almost frantically, hips twisting down against Robin's hand. "I-- I do. I understand. I promise."
"Good."
Robin bit at the back of his neck and sucked there as his hips slammed forward, just a few more sharp jerks, and Robin was coming inside him, still just holding Angel's cock as he shook with the force of it.
"Don't stop," Angel said. "I'm not, you can't stop, oh fuck."
Robin pulled out and shoved him over onto his back. He pushed Angel's knees apart roughly and knelt between them. "Go on. Finish it yourself."
Like last time, but with Robin's gaze somehow even more intense. Angel's heart beat faster and faster, and he felt more than a little dizzy. Robin's eyes were very dark, and his nails were digging sharply into Angel's thighs.
"Touch me," Angel whispered, and he didn't care if he sounded like he was begging. He brought one shaking hand down to get himself off anyway, sure Robin would ignore him.
Robin stooped over him, low, and breathing nearly against his lips. His hand covered Angel's on his dick, loosely, letting Angel move both of them. Angel gasped in air and came hard as Robin bent the last few inches to kiss him.
Their lips moved together, slippery and wet, and Angel wound his arms around Robin's neck and tangled their legs together and held on. Robin's whole body stiffened, but he didn't pull away. They lay still when the kiss ended, cheek to cheek. Angel could feel both their heart beats and Robin's breath and the faint stickiness of his own come between them.
"So you're not throwing me out."
"No," Robin said. "I'm keeping you."
Angel closed his eyes. Robin smelled like toothpaste. He was warm and solid, and Angel knew he was probably holding onto him too hard. "How'd you even know she was a girl? What, do you have security cameras in there or something."
"Yes."
"Oh."
"You can sleep in tomorrow," Robin said.
"Yeah. Sure."
And then Robin was pulling away, and Angel made himself let go. Robin pulled the comforter back over him before he left. He didn't think he'd be sleeping at all, but he was out as soon as his eyes closed.
When he woke, the apartment was full of sun. Robin had left a note on the refrigerator door. Remember to shave. I don't appreciate stubble rash. It was stuck on with a small magnetic R2D2, which Angel was fairly certain he'd never noticed before. Control freak and Star Wars buff. Huh. He pulled out the orange juice and drank it straight from the carton. Mrs Bennett had been up already. Breakfast was on a tray. A credit card lay on the kitchen counter, glinting at him. The world was his for the taking, if he wanted it.
He padded across to the balcony, shoving open one huge sliding door. The water slid down the granite block and below him Central Park stretched out like a huge, green rug. A lumpy, fuzzy, green rug. His wrists had small, red half-moon shapes in them from Robin's nails.
He washed and dressed in ten minutes, grabbed the cash and his key card, and got out. He didn't shave and he left the credit card where it was.
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Date: 2007-11-09 12:09 am (UTC)D
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Date: 2007-11-09 12:24 am (UTC)Nrgh. Gojyo + Gaultier. The possibilities. I'm in such a happy place.
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Date: 2007-11-09 01:12 am (UTC)Remember to shave. I don't appreciate stubble rash. It was stuck on with a small magnetic R2D2
That made me laugh. And the line about the control freak... took him awhile to notice, eh? ;D
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Date: 2007-11-09 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 03:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 06:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 11:06 am (UTC)"What, like moving a herd of buffalo to the Antarctic?"
"...do you have security cameras in there or something."
"Yes."
"Oh."
So, *so* good :) I shouldn't be grinning like this at work!
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Date: 2007-11-09 11:21 am (UTC)There's just so much squee here...poor self-sabotaging Angel who can't stop pushing at the boundaries, and Robin's possessiveness almost having a hint of reassurance and protectiveness to it at points, and whatever DID he do to get sent out of the country? And how many times did he watch that security camera footage?
*happy shivers*
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Date: 2007-11-09 11:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 11:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 11:54 am (UTC)*pets Angel*
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Date: 2007-11-09 12:14 pm (UTC)Psst...I have an R2D2 phone, which beeps just like he does when the phone rings! ^___^
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Date: 2007-11-09 12:56 pm (UTC)This sent chills up my spine: "You don't. You won't. You're mine."
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Date: 2007-11-09 02:04 pm (UTC)I just love the little, selected details you choose to give and all the superfluos things that you eliminate from the narration. It keeps the story totally hooking but real, not rushed but thrilling.
Can't wait for the next chapter.
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Date: 2007-11-09 03:51 pm (UTC)OMG love this chapter.. Hmm.. didn't really expect that but yes, controlling Hakkai is Woah..
Great chapter! *craving for the next*
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Date: 2007-11-09 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 05:29 pm (UTC)should have made you perspire tons. good for the flu.
course a warm bath/warm alcoholic bath needs to be done after such a fic
but then, it would be worth all the hassle
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Date: 2007-11-10 04:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-04 04:31 am (UTC)Also the way he touched Angel after being asked--he did say he'd give Angel anything he wanted that was in his own power to give, but we clearly have a mutual obsession here...
This is complex without being obscure and lovingly detailed. Excellent story so far! Thank you.
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Date: 2008-12-09 07:26 am (UTC)Angry sex all the things a growing man needs.