Disclaimers: If they were ours, our little brains would
just explode.

Spoilers: not to speak of

Summary: Talking it out.

Ratings Note: NC-17

Authors' Note: No, we're not obsessed at *all*.

Feedback: Yes, please: leytelj@gmail.com,
janestclair15@hotmail.com

*

Bobby loves the way Hank holds him. The way it's not
always -- or even often -- really human. Primitive carry,
like the way people lugged him around when he was little,
or the way you see animals doing in nature shows, just
slung up and expected to hang on. He has to trust Hank
for it to work, but he's more or less worked out for himself
that Hank isn't ever going to drop him.

Not enjoying it quite so much just at the moment. Like,
it's good, and it did give him that extra belly-thrill when
Hank hauled him over his shoulder, but he doesn't really
want to play. And he's getting that Hank's a bit
disappointed that it isn't making him laugh.

Wishes he had it in him to giggle once or twice, just to
make Hank happy.

Upstairs, and at least it's to Hank's room instead of
his. Rub of Hank's hand against his back, under his shirt,
while they're on the landing. Enough to make him wiggle
closer but not enough to make him want to talk. A bit
dizzy from all the blood in his head.

Moment of warning before Hank swings him down. On his back
on the bed, bouncing once before he gets his knees in under
him. Waits til gravity's done its work, then curls up.
Steals a pillow and holds it against his stomach, wiggles
around until he can see out the window.

Body-warmth against his back when Hank comes and sits
behind him. This big hand in his hair.

And after a minute, Bobby reaches up and grabs it. Pulls
the hand in against him and holds it between his stomach
and the pillow, warm and flexing a bit where it touches
him.

Thumb brushing into his belly button. It's just barely
under his shirt, just that little strip of skin between his
jeans and his shirt's exposed. Below the belly-bruise he
managed to get on the edge of the bed. Thinks sometimes
he's nothing but a mass of bruises. His mom told him once
he's supposed to be *careful*. Watch where he's going.
Not supposed to throw himself at hard surfaces.

Massage that works up until it's touching the bruise. Like
Hank could make the bruise disappear by touching it.

Warm enough that maybe Bobby believes that too.

"Gonna tell me what happened, Bobby?"

And it just makes him freeze up completely, almost
literally as he feels his body temperature dropping. A
shiver from behind him. Oops. "Sorry, Hank."

"It's okay." He sounds really, really worried.

Doesn't know the half of it. No, Bobby would very much like
to not talk about the things Scott said, hinted, whatever,
because Hank *already* wants to bolt and he can't really
blame him, if *that's* what people are thinking about him.

Doesn't want to lie, either.

"Bobby?"

"Scott thinks you're. You know. Abusing me." Quiet as he
can and of course Hank hears him anyway. Stiffens up,
starts to move his hand away but Bobby holds on tight.

Not going to let him go. No. *His* Hank, and fuck Scott
anyway.

"It's not... I told him all about it, Hank, you don't have
to worry, he understands now --"

"Bobby..." Deep sigh, and he stops trying to pull away.
Bobby keeps both hands on Hank's anyway. "I don't think you
understand... he doesn't want me to hurt you in any way. *I*
don't want to hurt you --"

"You don't! Jesus Christ, Hank, why doesn't anyone listen
to *me*?"

"Because you're young, Bobby, really, really young, and we
just want. Ah, Christ. Sometimes *I* feel like I'm abusing
you."

"I know you do. You. You're hoping I get over you and you
can run off to Ororo or somebody."

"Bobby, no --"

"Shut. Up." Pulls off and it hurts to let go, but he really
has to. Has to just get *away* from Bobby this and
we-have-to-protect-you that. He's not a fucking *kid*.
"Fuck you, Hank! I know you do. I *know* it. It's always
me. *Always* me and you never want and you just... you just
*give* in. Like you want me and you're *hating* yourself
for it.

"Hating me."

"I don't --"

"Shut up! You *want* me, Hank. I know you do. I see the way
you look at me. But you still just want to fucking... *run
away*. And. I'll let you go. It's okay. But not because you
think I'm too young for you."

Not sure what he's gonna do. Wants so *bad* to cry, and
knows exactly how badly it'll fuck things up if he does.

Wants his old life back. Or. Well, no, not that either.

Hank just *stares* at him. Opens his mouth once or twice,
starts something like a word and then stops without
finishing it. Reaches out one big hand towards him, but it
looks so much like an apology that Bobby can't go near it.

Dodges around it instead and walks out.

Down the halls and into his own room. He remembers how the
Professor showed it to him, the long look and the way he
said that the door locked from the inside. So far he
hasn't even tried. Doesn't even come in here except to
change clothes and find stuff. He hasn't ever slept in the
bed. Just the once that he didn't end up in Hank's bed, and
he spent that night on the couch in the den. Woke up with
a blanket over him and just set out on his day from there.

Curls up on the bed now. His bed. Nice room, really. The
kind you'd expect to be in a castle-type place like this.
Doesn't look like he lives here or anything, but he could
change that. Hitch into town and find someplace with
posters and comics. He thinks he remembers that the
Professor offered to get him stuff like that if he wanted
it. Pretty nice offer, even if the Professor does look a
bit like a James Bond villain.

That *cat*.

Gets back up. Kicks his shoes off and goes over and locks
the door. Finds a towel and shoves it against the bottom of
the door as tight as he can. Not soundproof, maybe, but
better.

Goes back to bed, lays down, and as long as he's really,
really quiet, maybe he can cry for a minute.

Does. Runs through a lot of good reasons he has to be
allowed to. The mutant thing and the Sentinels and the
asshole who hit him with that bottle. And everybody who
doesn't *listen* to him, and the sheer not-his-ness of this
room.

It's not something he can keep up forever, though. Sticky
face and sore chest and eventually he goes and finds the
bathroom. Pulls his shirt off and washes down from the top
of his head to his waist. Shivering a little and rubbing
his fingers through his wet hair when he comes back out.

Finds Hank sitting in the big soft chair by the window,
knees pulled up in front of him and watching Bobby.

Bobby likes his dark eyes a lot, even when they're
watchful, like now. Careful and carefully apologetic.

Wants him.

Wants to curl up on him and sleep, wants to make him give
Bobby that really amazed look, like he never expected to
feel that good, at least not with. A kid.

Walks over to the desk chair instead, across the room. Sits
down. "What?"

"I wanted to... are you okay?"

"Yeah. No." Has to snicker at himself, has to look anywhere
but Hank's sad smile. "Maybe."

And Hank nods, slowly, in that way he has of making it look
like he's really, really thinking about your answer, and
also maybe how to build a time machine or something like
that. So fucking *smart*, and Bobby knows he's smart, too,
but Hank... it's something else. But he almost never lets
it show, or acts all big or. Bobby *likes* Hank.

Doesn't want to be mad at him. Pulls one foot up onto the
chair and pays really close attention to his toes. Wiggles
them. Waits for whatever Hank's going to say and works on
how he's not really going to hear them because it's *not*
okay.

Wants him.

"You know, you're a pretty incredible kid, Bobby."

Sighs. "But."

"No buts, I promise." Hank holding his hands up like he
expects Bobby to hit him or something. Little smile. "You
really. You want me, don't you?"

And Bobby wants to answer something sarcastic, but there's
this kind of bizarre *wonder* in Hank's voice, like he's
surprised or something, and he knows enough to get that. A
little. Sort of. "Yeah I do. You're. Really cool." Lame,
lame, *lame*.

Bobby blushes hard and looks at his toes some more.

"Bobby..."

And it's that low tone, the less careful one, the one. Not
*that* one, but really close and Bobby can't help but look
up again.

"I want to be your friend. And I want to make love to you.
A lot. Often, even."

And Bobby's still blushing but oh. Oh. God. Not quite the
right voice but the words. Just wants to be really pretty
extremely naked. But. "I know you do, but are you *going*
to?"

Hank starting to reach out but moving to hold his own hand
instead and Bobby can't stop thinking *want me want me.
love me c'mon really you want to you feel so good*

And maybe it works, 'cause: "Yeah. If you'll let me."

Okay, he's not just gonna go throw himself into Hank's lap.
He's going to come out with something that shows off how
he's not the only smart one in the room. Or maybe just,
"Yeah. I want you to."

And then walks over and leans against Hank. Not sitting in
his lap, mostly 'cause it seems to push Hank's buttons in
ways he's trying to avoid, but leaning against him from
the side and hugging hard, with his head against Hank's
shoulder. Kisses that big neck as carefully as he can.

Finds himself sprawled across Hank's lap anyway, getting
kissed pretty seriously.

Hand on his chest again. This time headed up high,
straight for his chest, and Hank's fingers close on one of
his nipples and. Oh jesus *fuck* yes. Twists it. Pinching
it, holding on tight and apparently his nipples are wired
into his cock, which is pretty much news because it's never
worked quite that well before. Manages to whisper, "Hard,"
into Hank's mouth, and gets it. Blinding for a sec, feels
so good except for how much it hurts, and it throbs even
after Hank lets go.

Feels pretty fucking good when Hank breaks off their kiss
and leans over and sucks on it. Hard and long enough to
leave a hickey all around it.

And by then Hank's got a hand down the front of Bobby's
jeans.

Back to kissing him, and he gets that this isn't going
anywhere for a while. Or at least nowhere it can't go with
both of them tangled up in an armchair and most of their
clothes still on. But that's good too. Means that Hank's
managed to want him *before* they've hit the point of
gotta-come-*now*.

Gonna hold him down and kiss his brains out, apparently.

Gonna get his jeans unzipped and his shorts down and have
fun making Bobby crazy. Fingers on his cock. Fingers on
his balls. Fingers rubbing up between them on that skin
that Bobby didn't even *think* about until the first time
Hank touched it.

Pinky finger in the little hole at the end of his cock,
pretty much fucking him and getting him to make some really
embarrassing noises that he doesn't think he could swallow
if he tried.

Hank's so *hard* under him.

He's so *big*.

Such a fucking *turn-on* to be surrounded by all that hard
muscle. The way Hank can just do anything with Bobby's body
so effortlessly and God he feels so good.

Can't stop moving. Maybe this is what it feels like to go
crazy.

Mouth back on his chest, slow serious lick up to his
throat. Hank tasting him and God he wants to taste good for
him. Wants to be addictive as all Hank's heat and those huge
hands that should be funny looking, but are instead just.

So good.

"Hank my nipples do my nipples again --" Can't hold it in,
hoping like hell Hank likes it that way. Needs to make
noise talk curse beg arch his chest up to make it a little
easier and Hank's mouth on one nipple and his hand on the
other. "Oh God yes!"

Twisting and pulling and sucking on him and God yes.
Bruises. So good when Hank marks him. Proof of... of
something he really doesn't give a flying fuck about right
now.

Not with Hank touching him. Free hand rubbing that one good
*good* spot behind his balls. Making Bobby hard. Making
Bobby need him so bad.

Little ache inside him and he wants, he *wants*. Doesn't
know if it's the right time because. It *all* feels right
with Hank. The way he wants him.

"Will you fuck me, Hank? I want you inside me so bad... not
like before, really *in* me oh God do that again again --"

Hank *biting* him. Hard teeth hot mouth making him sweat
and Hank's so good... better than the others. Than his
so-called 'godfather'... fucker wishes he could be --

Weird Hank silence, weird because he's supposed to be
asking Bobby if he's sure, and saying no, and making Bobby
forget why it's so important anyway but he's not.

He's. Just touching him.

Pulling him upright. *Holding* him up to dig his tongue
into Bobby's navel and lick all over his chest and this one
incredible moment with Hank holding him up in the air and
sucking hard on the head of his cock.

Making it the only thing that matters in the world and
Bobby lets his head fall back.

Lets Hank do whatever he wants.

So good that he wants.

"Anything, I promise, anything oh *Hank*..."

"So *pretty* Bobby..."

Which should freak him out. Shouldn't *like* being called
pretty. But it just makes his stomach knot. Makes him
feel weird. Sexy. Maybe even harder.

Long last suck on his cock before Hank lets him go. Lays
him across Hank's lap again, but on his back, knees over
that one big arm. Pulling his jeans the rest of the way
off. Shorts, too. Socks off. And then naked, naked and
laid out in Hank's lap with his ass oddly exposed, and Hank
touches him there. Rubs a thumb behind his balls and then
down to touch his hole. God, he's never wanted anything
during sex before like he wants Hank to fuck him.

Hank lets Bobby's legs down, then, and picks him up. Laid
across his arms like something from a fucking romance
novel, and it's not dignified or anything but right now he
just *wants*.

Lays him out on the -- his -- bed. He's expecting the
mattress sag that comes from Hank being beside him, and
snaps his head around when it doesn't come.

Hank's standing over him, watching him with this *look*.
Hot and hungry, like he's dinner and it's been a long,
hungry week without any. Hands that reach out and pull his
legs apart a bit.

Rumbled, "I'm coming back, okay Bobby? I just have to get
something."

"Hank..."

"Shhh. Right back, I promise. Do something for me?"

"yeah."

"Play with your nipples while I'm gone."

Which is just. Wow. Like the screamed-out news that Bobby
is this sexy fucking thing that he didn't know about
before. All up and down his arms and legs and into his
gut. Making him shake.

Hank keeps watching him 'til he does it. Reaches across
and pinches and gasps. Didn't think he was quite so
*raw*. But it still feels good enough to make his cock
twitch. And Hank reaches out, closes his fingers on top of
Bobby's, and twists.

Gets him howling, and he wonders if that was the idea.
Hank lets go, pads away towards the bathroom, every so
often turns his head back towards the noises Bobby makes.
And oh yeah, that's power. Likes this a lot, even without
the fact that touching himself like this is gonna make him
crazy pretty soon.

Fingers on both nipples working them and letting Hank know
he's doing it, just about yowling and he's so *hard*, and
if he pulls his head up just a bit he can see Hank come
back, naked and oh god is he ever hard, bottle in his hands
that he flashes in front of Bobby and then tosses onto the
bed beside him.

"Do I even want to know who does the shopping around here?"

"Wha...?"

Weirdly hungry gentle look. Up and down Bobby's body. "Not
important, Bobby."

Hank runs one big finger down the underside of his cock and
Bobby can feel pre-come drooling out onto his belly and he's
still touching himself and he *needs* to be fucked right
*now*.

Bobby spreads his legs as wide as he can, arches his hips
off the bed. "Please, Hank, I need you --"

"Oh, Bobby... you're so *small*." Hard, tight little voice,
like Hank's losing it a little, and that's so scary and so
*hot* and Bobby has to wrack his brain, focus, move his
hands from his aching nipples and just hold on to the bed.

*Think*

"I... I've been. Touching myself there. Since you did.
Wanted to see. Hank, *please*."

And Hank's on the bed, mattress dipping and settling and
hot hands on Bobby's thighs, teasing and tickling and Bobby
moans and offers himself as best as he can. Anything,
anything, and then Hank's lifting his balls out of his way
and oh God doing *that* again and fuck and *yes*.

Hank's tongue inside him, Hank fucking him that way and
it's so. So *dirty*. Hot sweet waves of feeling all through
him, making his skin prickle and Bobby has *no* idea what
he's saying. All just noise, and under it those incredible
wet sounds and.

Hank growling at him.

Everything Bobby wants, just to be. Devoured. Can't stop
pushing his hips back, his ass back on that tongue.
Ignoring the ache in his cock for just. More of *this*.

And when Hank stops Bobby has to curl in on himself a
little, has to sob a little. Not crying, or maybe crying
but. He feels himself all over. Like you could touch him
anywhere and he'd just.

Shake.

Hank moving up over him, petting him and making him
shudder. Kisses, licks on his face. Hushing sounds,
soothing sounds and.

"I'm going to put a finger inside you now, okay Bobby?"

"Y-yeah. Hank..."

"Shh... make all the noise you need to."

Helps him lift his knees up. And then this slick, slick
touch against his hole. God his fingers are big. Like two
of Bobby's, easy. Rubbing around him a bit, and Bobby can
feel his hole flex. Open from Hank tonguing him, and
mostly he just wishes Hank would *do* it.

Just the tip of it, first. Big and blunt enough that his
ass stretches a bit around it. Makes him grunt and earns
him a gentle rub on his balls. Thumb working the skin
around and letting him think about that for a sec while his
ass works on being open.

Kiss on his thigh, and then all the way in. Hard, deep
thrust that he can feel in his belly, and yeah, he yells.
Can't not. It's so *deep* in him, and Hank's so big.
Deeper than he could ever get on his own. Wider than he's
ever started himself at. Whimpering and twisting his hips,
and after a second Hank crooks it and hits him oh god
*right* there. Hard little lump that he can just barely
reach on his own but that Hank can rub all over, rub
*hard*, make him feel it and whisper that he has to tell
Hank what it feels like. Whether he likes it.

Like he couldn't.

God, stroking him all over and he keeps having to make these
breathy little sounds so he won't just scream from it.

"Oh Bobby. God you're so fucking pretty, I've never seen
anything as gorgeous as you are. Come on, work your hips
for me. Wanna see how much you like it."

Hard rub that makes the point, and yeah, with his feet flat
on the bed like this, he can. Move. Lift his hips up and
oh yeah, *fuck* himself on Hank's finger. Wants this so
bad.

Shift beside him, and Hank leans over and kisses him and oh
god oh god oh god yes. Exactly what he wanted. Not just
that Hank's fucking him open but that Hank wants him.
Thinks he's sexy, wants his mouth. Pushes his tongue in
like he could get all the way inside Bobby like that. He
has to open so *wide* to take it, and Hank's fingers are
still right *there*, one inside his ass working him and the
rest outside rubbing him and a big arm under his leg making
sure he keeps it up.

Just this second where he fumbles and pulls out. And Bobby
wants to whine about it. Cry and howl and beg until he gets
it back. Except Hank won't stop kissing him long enough to
let him. Just this fumble to the side and a cap-flip that
he recognizes, and ok, more lube is a good thing.

Especially when it comes with an extra finger. Two of them
now, pushing at his ass.

Slick and hot and Bobby pushes back on them. Not even close
for a moment, some kind of sick joke and then Bobby realizes
that he's unconsciously clenching tight.

Breathes as deep as he can, air thick, so thick in his
throat and. Relaxes.

"Oh, Bobby, you're so good, so good, that's right, let me
in..."

Slow, steady *push* of it. Opening him so wide.

Stretch of it, pain of it making him shake his head back
and forth.

"Shh, shh, okay, wait a sec..."

Bottle again and just poured *on* him. Cooler than Hank,
messy, irresistible. Hank coating his fingers in it,
knuckling against the soft skin there and finally twisting
back around to push at him again. Bobby pushes back and
they slip right in.

Slow and steady and hard and *huge*.

Hank's big hands, good hands, *inside* him and Bobby needs
this so bad.

Needs to be open for Hank, rides the tiny thrusts Hank
makes, the twisting scissoring wonder of being stretched
wide.

Gonna take him, Hank's gonna take him. (Make love to him.)
Sobbing out moans and twisting right back, pushing down,
yes, please, do this, do this.

So scared he can't think, so *hot* the fear has no chance.

Oh, Hank, Hank, Hank... so good. So *serious* this, like
everything else was playing, but this isn't. Hank won't let
this be anything but serious.

Adult.

For them both.

And then the world is this single incredible moment, Hank
fucking him with his fingers and Bobby's just lost to it.
Writhing, sweating, needing. Half-hard but growing again
everytime Hank hits that spot, every time Hank tells him
he's beautiful.

Wants. Just wants and Hank is so good to him. Wants to tell
him that but can only get out sounds. Whimpers and gasps and
pleading sounds, needing sounds, and when Hank pulls out
Bobby knows what's next.

Opens his eyes to find Hank slicking his hard cock. Squeezing
hard for a moment that makes Bobby wince until he realizes
Hank's trying not to come.

Moans out loud, clear, vivid image in his mind of Hank
coming all over him.

Oh God, God.

Spreads his legs and Hank reaches for him, Bobby's hip laid
against one broad, flat palm and "yes yes do it Hank I need
you --"

"Yes. Yes. But we can't... not like this. It'll be. It'll
be easier if you're on your belly, Bobby. Can you do that
for me?"

Nods shakily and turns over. Buries his face in the
sweat-damp pillow. Spreads his legs and finds himself
helplessly thrusting against the sheets. Not enough.

*Needs*

"Shhh, Bobby. It's okay. You trust me?"

Hell of a time for him to ask, how can he even wonder when
Bobby's offering his ass like this. But. Well, yeah.
Gotta be sure.

Nods a couple of times before he can manage, "Yeah."

Rubbing his back, then. He's desperate and Hank's rubbing
his *back*. Feels good but it feels like delaying. Even
the kisses on his spine and his ass.

Just a little better when Hank slides his fingers in where
Bobby's thighs and belly meet and rubs. Thin, thin skin
there and Hank's hands are so big. Still slick from lubing
himself and fingering Bobby.

Hand under his belly lifting him for a sec, and he doesn't
even get *why* until Hank's settling him back down, and
he's bent over a pillow with his ass in the air.

"So *sexy* Bobby. You have the prettiest ass, you really
do. God I'm gonna *fuck* you, can't believe you're letting
me, gonna make it so *good* for you..."

One more kiss laid on the crack of his ass, breath of air
against his hole, and Hank bends over him.

Kisses the back of his neck, kisses his ear. Skin behind
his ear, with Hank's breath ruffling his hair. Nudge at
his hole, not even focused yet but big enough to make him
still. Longer kisses to make him relax again, and all
these promises about how good Hank's gonna make it for
him. Telling him he's the sexiest thing that ever lived,
that anybody with half a brain would want him, and they
can't have him because he's Hank's. His.

Hand that reaches between them. Rubs his balls, rubs
behind them. Thumb that dips into his hole and pushes it
open. Slick like water back there.

And then the head of Hank's cock against him.

God it's big, bigger than he would've believed, and it was
one thing to look at it, touch it and rub it and even take
it in his mouth, but it's something else to feel it pushing
at him. It's gonna open him so *wide*, and --

"Shhh, Bobby. I need you to trust me."

"I do I do I swear I do oh god Hank *please*."

"I know Bobby. Easy, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Breathe. Let me hear you."

He works on that. Breathing deep enough to make his belly
move, trying to push the fear out with the breaths.
Cockhead nudging at him harder, more like insisting now.
Pushes and doesn't ease back, opening him steady and hard
and so *wide*.

Second where he's just about screaming from it, hissing and
whining in his throat, and Hank's telling him it's okay and
that he's beautiful and swearing a blue streak. Final
stretch, long breath, and he feels it go in. Not as wide
now, just holding him open, inside a couple of inches, far
enough to let him get used to it.

There are tears on his face. He wonders when that happened.

Turns the next time Hank leans in to kiss his neck and
catches that mouth. Tongue against his this steady
reassurance, and he knows how hard it's got to be for Hank
to stay this still. Shift in him as Hank leans forward to
take his mouth harder, impossible not to make noise, but at
least this time it comes out as words. Swearing because he
can't think of real words. Hank's hand that used to be
behind him on his throat now. And the pain's easing,
some. It's big, yeah, but it's Hank, too, and he wants
this. So bad.

Pushes, just a bit, and hopes it's enough to make it clear
he wants more.

"Shhh, God, Bobby, we can take it slow, okay?"

Some part of his brain registering that it's a good idea,
but not a very powerful part. Not the part that's just now
figuring out that Hank is trying to get inside him and
that's something that just really needs to happen.

Nearly panting, bears down on Hank helplessly and hisses,
shouts when Hank makes this little thrust he's sure is
mostly involuntary. Pushes back and back and *there*. Just
a little bit more inside him but now it's touching him
*there*.

Hank's cock pushing that place, that spot and Bobby can't
classify the noises he makes. Not pushing back so much now
as rocking. Hitting that spot again and again with Hank's
cock.

So good, so good and Hank's holding his hips, maybe trying
to hold him still but that would be. Bobby *can't*.

"Bobby, please, you're going to. You're going to make me
come, Bobby, please oh God so *tight* --"

And Hank grabs on *hard* and *shoves* in. Shoves the breath
right out of Bobby's lungs, makes him scrabble at the sheets
for something, anything to hold on to and his hips just keep
moving.

Can't stop, can't stop now, thrusting against the pillow
and needing Hank so bad and Hank's *begging* him but
Bobby can't listen.

Finally just braces his arms on the bed and pushes *up*.
Hot, sweat-slick skin all along his back.

Hank shaking with it now, needing *him*, and something...
it's like breaking open and his cock is *spitting* pre-come
and he can speak. "Do it Hank, fuck me, do it now --"

Huge growl and Hank *pulls* Bobby back onto him, until
Bobby can feel Hank's balls slapping against his skin, so
hot, so hot, all he can do not to freeze but Jesus it's
just so good to *melt*.

And Hank starts to move.

Sharp, jabbing thrusts that Bobby can't catch the rhythm
of, bed rocking with it so hard so good so *Hank*.

Longer strokes now, just as hard. Faster and Bobby's being
*fucked*. Hank's *inside* him, pounding into him and
Bobby's arms just collapse.

Head down, ass up and Hank just *taking* him.

Deep enough that he can feel it in his belly every time
Hank pushes in, and somehow still rubbing that place inside
him just right to keep him hard. Just enough of his brain
left working to remember how good it was when Hank came on
him, and this is going to be. Gonna come *in* him.
Nothing between them at all, and he knows, vaguely, that's
probably not a good thing, but he can't bring himself to
complain.

All that *skin* in him. Sliding up him, *slamming* in.
And oh god it feels so good, burn of pain under it that's
keeping him grounded, keeping him from totally losing it.

This, *this* is grown-up, adult sex. Somebody who really
likes him, who's taking care of him and -- god -- wants
him. Even now keeps telling him he's gorgeous and sexy and
tight. Stomach-curl like it's the best compliment in the
world.

He's yelling pretty much constantly, so they'd better hope
Hank put the towel back in place when he came in. Gonna
bring the whole house in here, but he can't stop. Not
while Hank's fucking him this hard, and he has to let Hank
know it's good for him.

Just about swallows his tongue when Hank stills. Pulls
back and back and all the way out, so that Bobby's hole's
left open and wanting and aching for it. Rubs the head of
his cock against the hole. Around and around it, nudging
in, and right above him Hank whispers, "Hang on, Bobby.
Gonna do it hard."

Gives him a second to nod. Rubs his belly that way he
does, like Bobby's some wonderful, warm animal. Gives his
cock this little reassuring squeeze that Bobby thrusts
into. Takes Bobby's hips in his hands.

*Slams* in. All the way.

No air left for screaming. Deeper than it's gone ever
before, all at once. Bobby feels spitted, like if Hank
leaned back Bobby'd have to follow. Still for a second,
then these little humping thrusts that move the head of
Hank's cock without pulling it out. Moving him.

"Hank oh god Hank oh you're so *deep* in me I'm gonna feel
you there forever I swear to god I am. Want this want this
god I want this so much want you so deep in me god you're so
big feels like you're gonna split me don't pull out okay,
just stay there and fuck me fuck me fuck me oh god Hank I
love you love what you do to me."

Thrust that boosts him right off his knees and makes him
moan. Hank bends over him, kisses his back, kisses his
mouth. Cups Bobby's face to keep him in kissing reach.

Rides him.

In and out, long, long strokes again, working all along
that little bright-pleasure lump in him. Feels so good.
All of Hank's weight just that much to the side, on the
elbow attached to the hand holding his face, and it
rearranges the thrusts again, but he's little enough,
Hank's big enough to make this work.

Huge hand on his cock, clamping around the base and milking
him and so *tight*.

Like a massage he can thrust into. Down into the hand,
back onto Hank's cock in him. Breathless and aching by now
and he still wishes they could just do this until he passes
out. Or just forever, rest of his life with Hank in him.

So *good* around his cock. Thumb fucking the slit, making
him shriek, and then just steady, welcome strokes designed
to get him off, and he's not all that sure he wants this to
end, but he's desperate for this, he really, really is.

Moaning and moving and being *moved* by Hank, taken and
used in the best way possible and --

"Come for me, Bobby. I need you to."

Hank's voice so low and rough, like being stroked by
something huge and invisible and Hank's other hand on his
nipple twisting *hard* and orgasm hits him hard. Can't even
scream, just jerking and Bobby hears these "nn nn nn" noises
and realizes he's making them and Hank strokes him right
through it until it's almost painful before grabbing
Bobby's hips again and just *fucking* him.

Ragged thrusts and Hank's gonna come. *In* him gonna make
Bobby just lose it right there and it's too much and he
needs more and Hank slams all the way in one more time and.

Oh, God, Bobby can *feel* it. Wet and hot and strange and
filling him and it's so fucking good he can't stand it.

Hank finally stilling deep inside him. Still braced over
him like that.

So strong.

Fuck.

Tries to work up a voice to tell Hank how good it was and
can only moan.

Long, long moments like that until Hank eases them onto
their sides. Still inside him. Still hard.

Bobby has no bones left. None.

Bobby feels his face shaping into a wide, sloppy grin and
just lets it. Hank.

His Hank.

Burrows back against Hank's chest, careful of the cock in
his ass and the way the ache's starting to build. Not
ready to lose it yet, but more careful.

Shivers hard when Hank kisses his ear.

His neck. All over the back of his head. Picks up his
hands and kisses those, and the insides of his wrists and
arms.

Somehow building new arousal in him already, and he knows
he isn't ready to deal with that. Catches Hank's head
instead and pulls it down over his shoulder to his mouth.

Loves the fact that Hank likes to hold him after sex.
Sleeps with him and pets him in the night and kisses him in
the morning. And he can pretend, at least, that that's how
it'll go from here.

It's the middle of the afternoon, and he knows they're
gonna be hungry before it gets dark, but maybe they could,
you know, nap for a while. Maybe just like this with Hank
inside him.

Kiss on his ear. "Bobby."

"mmmmm."

"Are you alright?"

"m'wonderful."

Kiss on his jaw. Steadying hand on his chest while Hank
pulls out. Bobby whimpers, wants it and wants it not to
hurt quite so much coming out. Settles a little happier
when Hank brings the hand back and rubs him there, after.

The bed under him's a mess. Smells like sex and both of
them, and Bobby guesses that means it's really his now.

Hank pulls away and eases Bobby down onto his back. Kicks
the pillow away so he can lie flat. Leans over him and
kisses him. Hands on his face and on his chest, just
ghosting over his aching nipples. Getting him to whimper
occasionally.

Hank's weight across his chest. Kissing and kissing him
for a long time.
 

End

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