Work Text:
“What does he look like?”
It was one of those instinctive questions, phrasing ingrained culturally rather than through lived experience.
He felt the bed sink down under Matthew’s weight, and then felt his cool hand grasp one of his own. Matthew’s hand felt small, delicate, and Alfred wondered what it might feel like to have another set of hands on him tonight.
And then the guilt, that almost puritanical guilt, at his own fantasies, fantasies that Matthew had coaxed out of him.
(“I can’t do that for you,” Matthew had sounded so ashamed in the silence following Alfred’s confession.
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t mean that–I mean I’m drunk, just ignore-”
“But I wouldn’t mind watching.”
Leave it to Matthew to take Alfred’s shameful longing for rougher sex and amplify it with Alfred’s kink for exhibitionism and, less confessed to, curiosity about other partners.)
“Handsome,” Matthew said. “Sturdy. He looks like he could survive a long, famished winter.”
“Yeah but like what color are his eyes?”
Matthew laughed, kissing the back of Alfred’s hand tenderly. “Like telling you that would mean anything to you,” He teased.
“Sure it would. You’ve described them all for me.”
“Violet,” Matthew said. “He has violet eyes.”
“Huh. Like yours?”
“Brighter. Darker. Or more pigmented, I guess? I don’t know. It’s an interesting choice though, isn’t it?”
“Well, a lot of people customize their androids, right?” Alfred leaned back against his pillows, interlocking his fingers with Matthew and smiling in satisfaction at the way he pulled him closer in response.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t a sexbot. He said he was a military droid, before that was outlawed.”
“Oh.” Alfred strummed his thumb over Matthew’s fingers thoughtfully. “But he’s a sexworker now,” he clarified.
“Yeah. For the past six months.”
“I hope he’s careful.” Alfred felt the corners of his lips turn down, every scenario of potential human cruelty befalling a helpless, downtrodden machine playing over and over in his mind. “People can be real pricks.”
“He doesn’t seem like the type that anyone would fuck with, to be honest.” Matthew scooted a little closer, the bed shifting about with his motions. “He’s a little unsettling, Alfred, I don’t know if…I mean, are you sure you want to-”
“Do you not want to do this anymore?” Alfred felt himself tense, and hated himself for it. How selfish, that any part of him was disappointed that this might not be happening.
“Don’t worry about me. I could’ve sent him away if I wasn’t sure about this. But…I mean, Al, you’re-”
“I’m what?”
He felt Matthew tip forward, his lips gently pressing against Alfred’s shoulder, mouth warm and pliant even through the cotton fabric of his t-shirt.
“I’m what?” Alfred repeated, hating that he was whining.
“I mean, you haven’t been with anyone but me,” Matthew pointed out, just about as bluntly as his words were capable of being.
The sentiment surprised him. Alfred wasn’t sure what flaw of his that Matthew was going to point out, but his lack of sexual experience certainly hadn’t been it.
He was relieved that this seemed to be the only point of contention.
So how could he help but to laugh, really?
“As if you’re so experienced,” He teased.
“More than you, Mr. “let’s wait until our wedding day”. Besides, I’m not the one with the unfulfilled kinks here.”
“I’m sure you are though,” Alfred’s voice lowered, hopefully sultry. “What fantasies can I bring to life for you?”
“You already are.”
“You don’t need to be all romantic-”
“I’ve always wanted to–god and if you call me a cuck for this, I swear to God–but I’ve always wanted to watch you get manhandled. You’re so beautiful, it’s a shame it’s taken this long before we’ve done this.”
“Oh. Wait. WAIT. Are you doing this for yourself, Mattie? I thought you were being a sex martyr, but it sounds like you’re the sex fiend here.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Wow.”
Matthew combed his fingers through Alfred’s hair with his free hand. “Seriously though, if any of this is too much…I know he’ll probably go through limits and things with you-”
“Ew wait what? I thought that’s what you were talking to him about.”
“I’m not you, Al. You need to consent.”
“I do!”
“You might not after you meet him. And that’s alright! He’ll leave the moment you’re uncomfortable-”
“I have to support our troops,” Alfred said seriously, even as he fought the urge to laugh again. He wasn’t quite sure if it was nervous giggles or excited giggles at this point.
“Well, he wasn’t part of the American military complex, so maybe hone in that patriotism.”
“Oh. Where’s he from?”
Matthew kissed his forehead. “I’m going to go get him now. Just make yourself comfortable.”
Alfred should have been frustrated by the lack of answer, but he supposed he’d know for himself as soon as the android was brought into the room. He fluffed one of his pillows, then propped a hand behind his head as he lounged backwards.
It wasn’t until he heard Matthew’s footsteps retreating that he realized he hadn’t even asked the name of the man who’d be defiling him this evening.
He felt like such an idiot. What kind of jackass didn’t show at least that much curiosity? He racked his brain, trying to remember if Matthew had mentioned a name before, when the initial phone call and email arrangements were being set up.
What did he know? He was a converted military droid, he had violet eyes (and truth be told, Mattie was right–Alfred didn’t know what violet was in terms of a tangible thing, but purple hues sounded like they were particularly pretty at least), he was apparently pretty intimidating–then again, Matthew was intimidated by most people. Not American. Specialized in rough sex, given the initial, fairly vague advertisement from the agency.
And rough was what Alfred was looking for. To lose control in a safe environment.
Apparently while his husband watched.
He grinned. Hopefully Matthew touched himself too. And sure, Alfred wouldn’t be able to see it, but he’d always learned how to use his other senses to enjoy a proper show.
Maybe there was a little voyeur in him too.
Was he supposed to be touching himself too? One hand behind his head, the other gingerly lifted from the mattress, resting against his stomach. He inched it lower, lower…
And then heard the approach of two sets of footsteps. Alfred froze, his arm painfully heavy, as he forcefully wrenched it away from his body. But maybe he looked more suspicious resting his hand against the bed. How did he normally arrange his arms? Why was existing as a human being suddenly the most nerve wracking thing in the universe?
The door creaked open, the sound of footsteps pausing.
“Alfred?” Matthew’s voice was soft. Alfred could imagine how anxious he must appear, having to play middleman between his husband and this new stranger in their life.
“I wasn’t doing anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alfred blurted before he could think better of it, of the fact that this would only make him look more suspicious.
It worked at getting Matthew to laugh, at least. “This is Alfred,” He must have been speaking to the stranger. “And Alfred, this is Ivan.”
Ivan. Alfred tested the name in his mind first, two syllables, very masculine. Oh. Right. He needed to respond. He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Ivan.” For good measure, he held out his hand in the vague direction he’d heard Matthew’s voice coming from. Did androids have firm handshakes? Was handshaking even a thing in robotic culture?
Was shaking the hand of the guy you wanted to bend you over bad form? Too formal? Maybe they were meant to kiss. Or was kissing too taboo?
Alfred wasn’t ordinarily the type to overthink. But in the silent space between his outstretched hand and wherever Ivan stood, an infinity of potential fuckups mocked him, endless in their possibilities.
And then he felt two warm hands grasp his own. Ivan collected Alfred’s hand into his grip, and his touch was confident, assured, and, for lack of a better word, large. One of his hands alone would have engulfed Alfred’s, let alone both of them.
He hadn’t thought a handshake (or whatever you’d call this strangely intimate action) was enough to make him swoon. Then again, Alfred had been running over this exact trajectory of events since he’d first admitted to Matthew that he’d maybe sorta kinda like to be tied up and smacked around a little, so was it any surprise he was gobsmacked?
“It is my pleasure to meet you, Alfred.” His name felt thick and heavy and important in the other man’s tone, Ivan’s voice soft but not the same sort of shy softness as Matthew’s. He spoke quietly, as though he knew he was impressive enough an entity that he didn’t need to shout his arrival.
Alfred couldn’t say he could relate. Everything he said was an exclamation, even when he tried to tell a secret.
The soft tone wasn’t the only thing Alfred could discern from his first sentence, however.
“Oh. Mattie was right. You’re NOT American, are you?” Alfred said excitedly. “Oh, I’m not judging about that, by the way. Mattie and I were almost on a season of 90 Day Fiance-”
“By which he means he filled out half of the application, got distracted when his neighbor showed up with pizza, and then forgot about it for 7 months,” Matthew said.
“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t think you were ready for stardom.”
Okay.
Maybe he forgot.
“Anyway, we ended up doing the K1 thing without cameras involved. Where’d you immigrate from?”
Ivan was still holding Alfred’s hand between his own. “I was manufactured in St. Petersburg.” He released his hold on him, and Alfred’s skin felt longing in its wake. “Russia,” He clarified after a brief pause.
“No, right, I knew where that is,” Alfred knew he sounded defensive. Ivan had no way of knowing his reputation yet, unless Matthew had pulled him aside and said he was simple. …Matthew wouldn’t have done that, right? “How long did you live there?”
“I moved from military base to military base, globally, but it wasn’t until I was decommissioned that I was–you do not care about any of this.”
Alfred blinked, as though he could figure out the right pattern to open and close his eyes to get them to visualize what was happening before him. It wasn’t that he missed seeing–you couldn’t miss what you’d never known–but sometimes he longed for ways to read the atmosphere more clearly than he seemed to be able to with words alone.
“I do care,” He insisted.
“It’s very boring,” Ivan’s accent was pleasant, Alfred decided. It curled itself deep in Alfred’s ears, burrowed itself into the bones under his skin, and he hoped it would stay there forever. “And I am not a great conversationalist,” He added. “I have only been speaking for 6 months.”
What did that mean? “Like…literally?”
“Yes. I did not have a voice box when I was a weapons expert. No need. We have internal communication methods, my kind, and it was thought that making us too human would lead to distraction.”
“But they designed you to look human. Uh. I suspect, anyway?” Alfred wanted to touch him. And not just his very human-feeling hands.
Was he really this much of a slut? More shame.
“Yes, but obviously this has been outlawed now. I am lucky that I wasn’t dismantled.”
“How’d you end up in Cape Canaveral?” A pause, as realization dawned on him, “OH your military expertise probably carried over into aerospace knowledge, right? Do you work for NASA?”
There was a long pause after that, the sort of sound that generally followed when Alfred said something particularly asinine.
“I am a hooker,” Ivan finally said. “They don’t need my services in space.”
“Oh.” Alfred laughed, because it was generally easier to just laugh at himself than to dwell too long on his fuck ups. “Right, that’s probably for the best though, right? Don’t need a Space Race 2.0.”
There was another brief pause, punctuated just as suddenly by a soft laugh. Alfred supposed the sound could be mistaken for menacing, but he just found himself grinning instead. “You are a peculiar one, aren’t you?”
“So I’ve been told. So, speaking of things that are out of this world, my ass.”
“What about it?” Ivan spoke earnestly, but in the background Matthew laughed.
Alfred blushed. “I mean, um, tonight it’s yours.”
“Ah. Yes. You are ready to proceed I take it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like this.”
“Ah, your husband said you are practically a virgin-”
“Mattie!” Alfred said, aghast, before clarifying, “I’m not a virgin. Matt and I do it every night, except when I got my appendix out and even then I ate him out before they took me back-”
“Alfred!”
“And anyway, I’ve taken plenty of sex toys, so I’m pretty much an expert. Besides, most people only have a couple partners, right? How many people have you been with?”
“476.”
The exact answer wasn’t at all what Alfred had in mind. “Wait. In 6 months? That’s how long Mattie says you’ve been doing this. Wait, I need to do the math, that’s like, what, 80 partners a month?”
“I was not a virgin when I started work–again, this is boring information, you are not interested.”
“But I am.”
“I can do things that are more interesting than idle small talk.” Ivan’s voice had taken on a different quality, still soft, but a little more playful.
“You wanna sit on the bed?” Alfred asked, rather than questioning just yet what interesting skills this man had.
He tried to determine, as the bed dipped, how big Ivan must be given the shift in the mattress. Matthew had implied he was large, right? And his hands definitely indicated he must be sizable.
“Mattie, are you gonna come over here?”
“I’ll sit here,” Matthew said, and though Alfred couldn’t see where ‘here’ was, he knew the room well enough to know he meant the recliner against the wall. “You two enjoy yourselves, though. Don’t let me be a distraction.”
“Are you gonna touch yourself?” Alfred blurted out and then sucked in a startled breath as his hand was grabbed again, this time by only one of Ivan’s. “How are you so warm?”
“I purchased an upgrade,” He said. “I’ve spent years freezing. I cannot stand to be cold.”
Alfred nodded a little. “Is that why you chose Florida?”
There was another soft chuckle from the robot (and Alfred wondered if laughter was another upgrade he’d purchased for himself). “You say that as though I am afforded many opportunities to choose for myself.”
“Oh.” He didn’t know where to begin dissecting that sentence.
“But you do not know me, I should not speak so freely. What do you want me to do to you tonight, Alfred?”
“I feel like I should be asking that of you.” The sensation of guilt, especially this indefinable, uncertain kind of empathetic guilt, settled uncomfortable in Alfred’s stomach.
“You already paid me. I have made my choice.” Ivan squeezed Alfred’s hand, then released it again. “If it helps, your husband has already told me many of the fantasies you have in your head. However, since this is our first session, I suggest we take things a little slow.”
“How slow? Like 3rd base?”
He didn’t need to see. He could feel the confusion flowing off of Ivan, a pulsating sort of uncertainty. And usually it was Alfred who felt like he was in the dark; it was a little exhilarating to be the knowledgeable one here.
“...basketball?” Ivan finally asked.
“Baseball,” Matthew supplied. “A baseball metaphor.”
“About sex?” Ivan questioned. “Is it something to do with the phallic design of the sports equipment?”
“No,” Alfred scraped his fingers through his own hair. “No, forget the bases. How slow are we talking?”
“You still haven’t told me what you want.”
“But Matt already did.”
“But I’m not fucking Matthew, am I?”
Alfred felt his face burn at the prospect. “No,” He said, a little too firmly. (Selfish, his mind cooed) “You’re not fucking Matthew.”
“Then tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
“Is this usually how it goes?” Alfred could feel himself squirming around, and he tried to get himself to hold still, but it just made him fidget more. “So much talking? It’s sex. You just do it.”
“Are you ashamed of your desires?”
“No, why should I be!” It tasted sour, his lie, and he couldn’t even understand why he was so embarrassed. Doing it was one thing, but communicating? His face burned even brighter (Red, his mind decided to chime in again. That was the color Matthew had described his blush as).
“You are very cute.”
He didn’t think his skin could feel any warmer, but then Ivan was complimenting him–and he was almost certain it was more teasing than genuine, that there was an edge of mockery even, but somehow even knowing that didn’t stop his mind from racing with possibilities. Mostly naked possibilities.
He hoped he still thought he was cute then.
“I guess what I want,” Alfred said, trying for once to inject some carefulness to his words, “Is for you to treat me like I’m unbreakable–and that this really offends you and you want to prove me wrong. You know what I mean?”
“You want to be destroyed, but as a strong man would be destroyed, not as someone fragile would be. Am I understanding correctly?”
“Oh. Yeah, I…yeah, I thought I sounded stupid, but you made it sound so good.”
“And you’ve never engaged in such acts before?”
Why did they keep circling around to his inexperience? Alfred played with his fingertips nervously. “Well, no. Not really. Matt’s tied me up before, but he tied the knots too loose and I kept breaking through.”
“We will not have that problem, you and I.”
The cockiness in Ivan’s voice with that sentence made Alfred’s heart race.
“I…that’s good, but I mean,” His voice went a little lower, “I don’t want to make him feel bad too, so-”
“You’re not going to make me feel bad, and I can still hear you,” Matthew interjected. “I told you. I can’t do this stuff to you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate an expert’s touch.”
Was he really so kind that he wasn’t bothered by this? Kink or not, surely he had to feel a little jealous. Alfred bit his bottom lip.
“Continue telling me your pleasures,” Ivan said.
“Oh. Right. I just…I…yeah.”
“You said nothing.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“And we haven’t even discussed whips or gags yet.” There was that playfulness again. Alfred didn’t know him well enough to banter, but he suspected it was something that would be fun to engage with in time.
And he’d said they needed to take it slow for their first session–which implied future sessions, didn’t it? His body ached pleasantly as his chest filled warm with hope.
“But I will not be gagging you, not this first time,” Ivan said. “I need to know you better before we can reach that level of trust. And, truth be told, I want to hear the sounds your mouth can make besides this endless babbling.”
“I don’t babble,” Alfred said dumbly, even as his ears rushed with all the blood flowing this way and that in his body in excitement. Ivan wanted to make him moan. He wanted to fuck him.
Or, well, he was paid enough to sound like he wanted to fuck him anyway. That was the lovely thing about capitalism, right?
Shit.
There was the guilt again.
“You babble a little,” Matthew countered. “But it’s very cute.” A brief pause, before he heard him stand up. “I’m going to check on Comet. Don’t wait for me, please.”
“Comet?” Ivan questioned.
“Our dog. Well, I guess he’s technically my dog,” Alfred listened to Matthew’s footsteps, even as he babbled about his service animal. “You didn’t see him when you came in?”
“No.”
“Did Matt get you anything to drink, by the way? We have coffee and, regrettably, tea, and there’s probably some beer in the fridge, and-”
“He offered. I do not need it.”
“Oh. Right. No esophagus. Wait, so how do you give head?”
What a rude fucking thing to ask. He opened his mouth to take it back.
But Ivan laughed. “My redesign to make me functional for this new life purpose ensured adequate space in my throat for more sizable clients.” Alfred didn’t realize his hand was moving closer, until he felt it settle against his thigh. “Are you worried I’ll be insufficient?”
“No. I mean, you don’t have to worry about that with me anyway. I, uh, I assume Matt already told you that I’m…” He trailed off, giving Ivan ample time to cut him off.
Ample time that Ivan did not take advantage of. They sat in silence for a moment, just the warmth of Ivan’s silicone hand against his denim-clad leg.
Why the hell had he worn jeans? Alfred cursed his lack of foresight. He should have worn something sexy, right? Skimpy. Easily torn.
“Uh,” Alfred cleared his throat. “You know. I’m…you know.”
“I’m waiting for you to inform me.”
“You know,” Alfred scowled. “You know and you’re just making fun of me.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“That’s what I mean!”
He waited for Ivan to have mercy on him. But the silence just stretched.
Alfred groaned. “I’m trans.”
“Yes,” Ivan said. “I knew this.”
“Then why did you make me say it???”
“Are you ashamed of this too?”
“I”m not ashamed of anything, dude, you’re just making things drag out unnecessarily. What are you, some kind of sadist or something?”
“That’s the general idea, yes?”
Alfred tried to figure out how to properly respond to that. Because sure, Ivan was right, that more or less was the point here.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to be mocked.
Or did he? Was humiliation and degradation on the table?
“Do you believe in kissing?” He asked instead.
The bed jostled again, as Ivan moved closer. The hand moved away from his thigh, and for a moment Alfred was untethered, before both hands cupped either side of his face. He nuzzled against Ivan’s palm despite himself, eyelashes fluttering closed, as Ivan’s bodyheat became almost overpowering as he leaned closer.
His lips were firm but plush, full and a little wet, and Alfred wondered how his own tasted in comparison. He let his lips part just slightly, slowly kissing Ivan back.
Matthew hadn’t been Alfred’s first kiss, and Ivan wouldn’t be his last, but this felt monumental all the same. He tilted his head, pleased with the way Ivan followed his movements. Why did a war machine know how to kiss so well? He considered whether he could ask him something like that.
But then Ivan’s tongue was entering his mouth, carefully teasing and coaxing, and Alfred forgot his questions in the wake of all the More More More his brain was screaming instead. He flicked his tongue against Ivan’s in response. Ivan pressed back against him, tongue to tongue, overtaking Alfred enough that he slipped backwards, flopping onto the pillows. Ivan’s body pressed lightly on top of him, the sort of pressure that implied he was holding his whole weight back.
Hadn’t he told him he wanted him to break him? So why the hold back?
Ivan’s left hand moved away from Alfred’s face, to instead tangle in his hair. Tender at first, gently stroking through every strand, then just as suddenly tensing against him. Alfred would have cried out, were it not for his mouth being occupied, the faintest of whines as Ivan pulled his hair.
Ivan’s tongue drew back, but before Alfred could pursue, he was biting Alfred’s bottom lip. It stung, a brilliantly sharp sort of pain that matched the pain in his scalp, and Alfred’s toes curled pleasantly.
“Safeword,” Ivan breathed the word against Alfred’s lips as he pulled back just enough to speak. Alfred’s chest rose and fell dramatically, every breath inhibited by his own excitement and the binder he wore under his t-shirt.
“Huh?”
“We need a safeword.”
“Oh, so if it goes too far…right, I know what that is. Um. Radish? There’s no way I’d say that in a sexy context.”
Ivan’s mouth descended upon his again. Alfred wondered if he enjoyed kissing, or if this was just part of the job. He wrapped his arms around Ivan’s neck and tried to make sense of this new body pressed against him.
“Hey. Ivan?”
Ivan began to kiss along Alfred’s jawline. “Yes?”
“Can I…this is going to sound crazy. Just, like, stick with me here.”
“Much of what you’ve said has sounded crazy so far.”
Alfred stuck out his tongue in response, but forced himself to stay on topic. “So, uh, obviously I can’t see you, right?”
“Are you asking?”
“No. That’s not–listen. I’ve never been able to–I don’t–contextually, even if you described yourself, it wouldn’t really mean much, but um. Can I touch you?”
“Is that not what we’re doing?”
Alfred shrank back against the bed. “Forget it. Let’s just get back to kissing.”
Ivan grasped Alfred’s wrist, tugging his hand upward and kissing each individual fingertip. “You can touch,” he reassured him. “Do you want me to undress first?”
Alfred didn’t mean to gulp. Because it probably seemed cartoonish and, worse yet, offensive. It wasn’t a bad gulp by any means. Just a very audible one. He nodded though. “Yeah, I…yeah. That’d be pretty sweet. I mean, if you’re not too shy.”
“Shy,” Ivan repeated, just the slightest of amused snorts escaping him in the same moment. “You humans are strange with your hangups.”
The bed bounced as Alfred felt Ivan stand. He heard the rustling of fabric, trying to figure out what he was taking off. Was he dressed sexy? He seemed the type to be more prepared, but Alfred hadn’t felt an ample amount of skin when they’d briefly been pressed together.
“What are you wearing?”
“Black slacks. Turtleneck. My coat. A scarf-”
“Wait. Are you kidding?”
“Why should I kid?”
“It’s–you’re in Florida,” Alfred exclaimed. “You’re wearing a scarf?”
“Not any longer,” Ivan said dryly. “But I was.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like to be cold.”
There was a story there. Alfred collected stories, gossiping with salespeople at the stores he frequented, getting chummy with passengers on his normal bus route each day, listening intently as Matthew read him comic books or when he had his headphones on for Audible. Funny stories, inconsequential stories, hero stories.
Sad stories…
There was sadness to Ivan’s life, Alfred wasn’t sure how he could know such a thing–indeed, even he could admit he wasn’t the most perceptive of people, though god did he ever try–but nobody wore a fucking scarf in Florida in August unless they were deeply troubled, that was just an inscrutable fact of life.
Or maybe he just didn’t like AC.
“Well, I’ll keep you warm,” Alfred opted to be flirtatious rather than pitying.
Given the quiet chuckle this earned, he’d chosen correctly.
“I didn’t know androids had so many emotions.”
“They could be for show,” Ivan pointed out. Alfred heard another slink of clothing dropping, and he licked his lips in anticipation. “Perhaps I am trying to get you to lower your guard.”
“Nice try. I’m not afraid of a robot uprising. Aliens are our biggest threat.” Alfred’s clothes felt too tight. But he didn’t have the nerve yet to undress himself, or perhaps it just seemed too much effort with the knowledge of the unseen striptease occurring right before him.
“You believe in aliens?”
“You don’t?”
Ivan fell quiet for a moment. “I think,” He finally said, “The universe is vast.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Alfred’s body swayed against the mattress as Ivan crawled onto it again, presumably undressed. “Nevermind, we can discuss my UFO conspiracies later.”
“Is that what you want to do?” Alfred could hear that Ivan was mocking him, and yet the toying nature of his tone only hooked him in further. “Why wait for later? We can stop now and watch ET together.”
“Nice try,” Alfred said. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly watch anything, buddy.”
Ivan chuckled lowly. “Humans are, as a whole, pitiful, weak, pathetic creatures. Your menial disability isn’t enough to earn my sorrows.”
Maybe that should have been unsettling.
So why did Alfred find it oddly reaffirming? To not have to worry about being babied, about being seen as a weakness or a liability…
…well, he had said that humans were weak in general, so he supposed Ivan did see him as weak. But only because of the technicalities of his species! That had to be some sort of diversity win, right?
“Yeah but you’re an unfeeling machine, right? So you don’t have any sorrows to spare.” It felt too cruel. Maybe earlier he’d wondered about bantering with Ivan, but clearly he was leaping in too far.
“Why are you discussing my feelings? I thought you were the one who wanted to get to feeling, if you understand my innuendo.”
“Oh. Oh!” Alfred bit the corner of his lip, and then grinned despite himself. “Yeah, I was about to do that, wasn’t I? I mean, is it still okay? If I touch you? Sorry I keep asking. I’m a married man, this is all new frontier for me.”
“Well, this demands a brave explorer to pave the way, yes?”
Alfred nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I…are you, uh, like, did you take everything off?”
“Why don’t you find out?”
Oh right.
Time for action.
Alfred licked his lips. They were too dry–though honestly they were just about the only part of him that was dry at the moment, if he was being frankly honest. He was excited. Beyond excited. His hands quivered as he lifted them, the tremor passing through each fingertip up into his wrists.
“Is there anything I should know first?” He asked. “I mean, anything I can’t–that you don’t want me to–”
“I’m yours tonight.”
That was a jolt straight to the crotch. Alfred licked his lips again. “Thank you,” He said dumbly.
He felt Ivan grasp his wrists, steadying their shaking, and begin to draw them forward. He placed his palms flush against his chest, or at least Alfred presumed it was his chest. His fingers curled just slightly against him. Ivan’s skin was still very warm, and soft, though it was layered over a hard endoskeleton of some sort. Gentleness masking an edge of intense masculinity.
Like an idiot, Alfred moaned. As if he was the one being touched.
“Good boy,” Ivan said in a tone that was downright husky.
Alfred whimpered.
But this wasn’t supposed to just be a kink thing. He wanted to map out Ivan’s body, to better understand him. Yet here he was, hands on Ivan’s pecs, getting praised, and he was nearly creaming his jeans already.
He finally began to let his hands move. Tracing his fingers over Ivan’s chest, he brushed over his nipples. Nipples. That was an interesting feature, he thought, and then forgot all rational thought completely at the way Ivan inhaled. Breathing certainly wasn’t a feature he needed either, but oh, it made him think that maybe he could get the other man to moan too, and wouldn’t that be fun?
He curiously pinched his nipples, tweaking both of them simultaneously, then using the pads of his thumbs to gently brush over them. His mouth watered, as he ran his index finger around the periphery of the left one.
Ivan was quiet, and perhaps that should have been disconcerting, but Alfred found it intriguing.
He tried to calculate how far apart they were, measuring the span of his arms compared to the dip in the mattress. When he had a basic idea of calibration, he finally leaned forward, head tilted, gingerly brushing his lips forth until they pressed against Ivan’s. He smiled as Ivan kissed him back, pinching his nipples again in response. He hands smoothed over his bare chest, following the hard lines of his geometry as he sucked on Ivan’s bottom lip.
Ivan caressed Alfred’s cheek, perhaps just to direct him better into the kiss, but the touch electrified him. Was that poor wording, considering he was a robot? He very gently bit Ivan’s lip, delighted at the way he felt his lips part in response. His hands rode up higher, pressing against Ivan’s shoulders. They were broad, sturdy, muscular, and seemed custom made just to fit Alfred’s grip.
He broke the kiss, panting for breath. “You feel really gorgeous,” He said, and hoped it didn’t sound as foolish as he felt. His finger traced along the outer edge of Ivan’s neck, then over his solid jawline. Palm pressing against his face, he felt Ivan tilt his head just slightly in response.
He felt different than Mattie, but not in an inhuman sort of way. He stroked his thumbs over Ivan’s cheeks, resisting the sudden urge to squish his hands inward and presumably make his lips pucker out from the pressure. It was too silly a gesture for near perfect strangers, though, even by Alfred’s standards.
“I am,” Ivan said. “I was designed by the best.”
Alfred curiously leaned forward, tracing the tip of his nose over the bridge of Ivan’s. It felt prominent, but then again most things did from an up close perspective.
“Big nose. Big hands. Should I be worried?”
“That I will ruin you? Yes.”
Maybe that was a threat. But Alfred ducked his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning outright. His hands traveled their way to Ivan’s scalp, his hair fluffy and soft.
“Pretty,” He insisted, even if the word didn’t belong in his vocabulary. It still felt right.
He didn’t exactly have a mental image of Ivan–how could you visualize with no frame of reference whatsoever?--but he was starting to get a better idea of how he’d feel against him. Fingertips prominent now rather than palms, he teased down his torso again, ghosting over his abdomen.
He expected any minute for Ivan to grow impatient. But he remained still, silent, waiting for Alfred’s next move.
He touched his hips, hands pressing against either side of his body, like he was cradling the entire world. Alfred swallowed, falling forward until his face pressed against Ivan’s neck. He gently kissed him there, breathing in the scent of him. Sunflowers. Strawberries. Sweet. Summery. Not the sort of scent you’d expect from someone who’d showed up in a full coat and scarf in August.
He nuzzled against him, and felt Ivan wrap his arms around him in response. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for, being held by a large man he’d never met in his marital bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.
“When was your first kiss?” Alfred asked, as though the silence alone was too heavy, or perhaps just out of sheer curiosity. How had Ivan learned to go from weaponry to searing liplocks?
“You do not care about this,” Ivan’s hands rested against his lower back, fingertips against the space of Alfred’s back that had exposed itself, where his shirt had ridden up away from the hem of his jeans.
“You keep saying I don’t care. But I do.”
“You wouldn’t, if you knew. I am not interesting. I am not human.”
“I don’t know, you’re pretty intriguing in my opinion. And what does humanity have to do with any of it?”
“It factors in more than you realize. After all, would you feel so comfortable straying from your marriage if I were a real man?”
“But you are real. I’m really touching you. I’m really talking to you. That’s real.”
“Simplistic mindset.”
Alfred frowned. “Fine. If you’re not going to tell me about your first kiss, I’m going to tell you about mine.”
“What stories could such an inexperienced flower have?”
Alfred laughed. “Don’t mock me, I used to have game. So. I was fifteen, and I was at roller derby practice.”
“Roller…?”
“So basically a bunch of girls get together, put on skates, and go around bashing each other around. Actually, it’s way more intricate than that, but that’s all you really need to know.”
“And this is considered fun?”
“Uh, duh!” Alfred shivered as Ivan’s hand snaked under his shirt from behind, rubbing his lower back casually. “Anyway, it was after practice, and I was hanging out with the captain. She was Eastern European too actually.”
“What was her name?”
“Do you really care?”
“It helps me keep the details straight.”
Alfred smiled. “Natalya. She was nuts, it was fantastic. Anyway, I thought we were getting gatorade, but next thing I know she’s gliding up to me, pinning me up against the wall, and we start making out.”
“Such a way with words you have.”
“Oh, then you’ll love this part. So she stops kissing me, we’re standing there in our skates, and I go…you won’t believe what I say.”
Ivan’s other hand traced a strand of hair away from Alfred’s forehead casually. “What did you say?”
“So I go ‘Nat, I think I’m gay.’”
“Hm.”
“Right? And she’s like, “Obviously, stupid, we are two girls kissing.” And–oh god this is going in my cringe compilation–I say to her, “No, I mean like a guy is gay for another guy.””
Ivan was quiet. Quiet enough that Alfred might have thought he left, were it not for the hand against his back still gently rubbing circles.
“Um. You know. Because I…like, I-”
“Because you are a transgender male.”
“Yeah. But it doesn’t sound as quirky when you say it like that.”
“She was displeased?”
“She broke my nose.”
“Ah.”
“But we made up. I think I just hurt her pride. I mean, it’s probably freaky being the type of girl who kisses the femininity out of a chick.”
“You were unaware of your identity until this point?”
“No, not really I don’t think. I just never really put it to words. I dunno, my foster family was super religious, so it wasn’t something really discussed at home. Anyway, I feel kinda bad, I probably ruined what could have been a whirlwind high school romance.”
“You don’t ruin things by being genuine.”
“Well, it ruined my nose,” He pointed out.
Ivan traced his finger down the bridge of Alfred’s nose, gently bopping the tip of it with his index finger after. “Does not look ruined to me.”
The door creaking open should have been startling, but instead Alfred just felt an abundance of affection knowing that Matthew was back.
“What’re we talking about?” Matthew asked. Alfred could hear the confusion in his voice. “Aren’t you two fucking yet?”
“He was telling me how I don’t compare to his first kiss,” Ivan said.
Alfred flustered. “That’s not even close to what I was implying!”
“Oh, the roller rink days? My first kiss was on skates too.” Alfred could hear Matthew flop into the chair.
“Ivan won’t tell me when his first kiss was. He’s rude.”
“Well, if he just gave into your every bratty demand, he wouldn’t be a very powerful Dom, would he?”
“Bratty?” Alfred repeated. “I’m not bratty!”
How odd must this scene be, he realized suddenly. Matthew walking in, Ivan completely naked, his husband’s hands on his hips, Ivan’s hands on Alfred’s still clothed body. He wasn’t sure if he felt embarrassed or excited.
Maybe the embarrassment just amplified the excitement.
Ivan leaned in, kissing the corner of Alfred’s mouth. When Alfred turned to try to chase his kiss, he moved, instead kissing a line down his neck. Alfred gasped, tilting his head back, and then crying out softly as Ivan bit him. Sharp. Startling. Painful even, more canine than he would have ordinarily experienced. Was he bleeding? He couldn’t bring himself to recoil though, even as Ivan released his bite, only to bite him harder right after. Ivan sucked on the area he’d just bitten, and Alfred could feel his skin prickle with bruising already.
“Mattie,” He said, because he felt like he needed to apologize. “Is this too much? We can stop, if you-”
“Take off his clothes,” Matthew breathed, his already timid voice nearly non-existent in his obvious lust. Then, ever polite, he added, “Please, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Alfred expected a smooth, delicate transition.
Instead, Ivan pushed him back against the bed, roughly shoving him away from himself. Alfred’s body bounced against the bed, everything a flail of confusion for a few seconds, before the android descended upon him, grabbing his t-shirt and brutally yanking it upward. Alfred scarcely had time to lift his arms, feeling the soft cotton curl up and overhead, before he heard it swish through the air as Ivan presumably tossed it aside.
“Is this acceptable?” Ivan asked.
Alfred meant to speak, but all he could do was nod, hoping it was obvious enough how eager he was. The grin that split across his face as he felt Ivan grab his spandex binder and tug it upward probably communicated his willingness better than words could anyway.
Alfred felt his breasts free from the binder, the familiar weight of his own body conflicting. On one hand, every inch of him craved touch. However-
The binder was freed overhead as well, Alfred not hearing this one being tossed, but suspecting it must have been given Ivan’s free hands rubbing slowly over his arms after.
“Are the lights out?” Alfred asked before he realized he was even going to ask anything.
“No,” Ivan said.
“Oh. Should they be?”
“No. I like to see my work unfold.”
“Oh. Okay.” He wanted another kiss, but instead Ivan was undoing the button of his jeans. Alfred lifted his hips, as Ivan hooked his fingers into the hem of his pants and underwear underneath, removing both in one sharp motion. Alfred heard something bounce against the ground in response, and realized in mortification that it was his packer, jostled loose. “Sorry.”
“Don’t speak,” Ivan commanded it effortlessly. And maybe Matthew had called Alfred bratty, but he didn’t even consider disobeying. Ivan silently slipped Alfred’s feet out of the cuffs of his jeans, the fabric slumping to the ground, leaving Alfred completely undressed.
Alfred’s heart raced to dizzying heights. He had no proof that Ivan was staring at him, but it certainly felt like he was being consumed.
And he didn’t expect anything, of course. This was supposed to be brutality, ownership, breaking. They had a safeword. People didn’t exchange love vows when they had safewords, that was just a fact.
“You are extremely attractive,” Ivan said finally, simple, presented casually even.
Alfred wasn’t sure why, but it made the corners of his eyes tingle. “Thank you,” He said softly.
“You have no nervous babbling now?” Ivan teased. Alfred wanted him to touch him. Needed him to touch him. His chest rose and fell with every unsteady breath.
“I don’t know what to say,” Alfred admitted.
Because what was there to say? There was a stranger in his bed, both of them were naked, he was calling him attractive. And who knew if Ivan actually meant it, but it still meant everything to Alfred either way. He licked his dry lips again, timidly reaching out to touch Ivan’s face again. He caressed his cheek, traced his jawline, pressed his thumb over his lips.
Ivan kissed his thumb, a casual little act of affection.
“Do you want to continue touching, or do you want me to tie you up now?”
Alfred drew his hands back, placing them against the bed because it was impossible to think while he had his hands full of Ivan. And he hadn’t even touched him in an explicitly sexual way–well, the nipple play was probably a little sexual, that was true–and there was still so much more he wanted to learn.
But he also wanted to hand the reins over completely.
“What do you want?” Alfred finally asked.
“What I want does not matter,” Ivan said.
“Of course it does.”
There was a moment of hesitation, and Alfred couldn’t help but suspect he wanted to argue this point. But Ivan instead said, “I’m going to bind you now.”
“Okay.” Alfred gave a small squeeze to the blankets, as he felt the bed bounce upward–Ivan must have stood up again, likely to get some supplies. He wriggled against the bed, aimless energy flowing through him. “Mattie,” He said, soft, as though he could speak without Ivan overhearing. Maybe he could, he had no idea how far Ivan had gone by this point, though he suspected he was at least still in the room.
“Yes?” Matthew asked.
“Are you into this?”
“I am. But are you? You seem really nervous.”
“I just don’t know what I’m doing.” Yes, Ivan was definitely still in the room, he could hear him rustling around to his left. Alfred felt more embarrassed at his words than at his nudity.
“But that’s the fun part of this,” Matthew said. “You don’t have to know. Ivan is going to take complete control.”
“I know, but I still feel like I should be doing something.”
“You are doing good, Alfred,” It was Ivan who spoke up in that moment, his voice confident in its comfort. He could hear him throw some items onto the bed, felt him climb back onto it himself. “All you need to worry about is telling me to stop when I go too far.”
“When?” Alfred felt his eyebrow raise. “What, you think I can’t handle this?”
“Americans are soft. Even by already soft standards of humans. It is not your fault, it’s your birthright.”
“I’m not–hey, that’s not-”
Whatever clever argument he might have formulated drowned as Ivan kissed him. It was sudden, unexpected, and Alfred flailed for a few seconds before he could reorient himself to the shape of Ivan’s mouth. Eyelashes and heart fluttery, he grasped his shoulders, tugging him close.
And just as suddenly, Ivan grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from himself and slamming them against the mattress, pinned above Alfred’s head.
Alfred groaned against Ivan’s mouth, as Ivan pressed his knee between Alfred’s thighs. It took him a moment to realize Ivan was straddling his leg. And a moment longer to really process the heavy weight of Ivan’s cock resting against him in the process.
His fingertips twitched with the urge to touch, but he couldn’t loosen his hands from Ivan’s grip.
“Oh my god,” Alfred moaned.
“Let me have you,” Ivan said. “Tell me you’re mine.”
There was only a moment of hesitation–Matthew was right there in the room, after all–before Alfred meekly managed, “I’m yours.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“You.”
Ivan pinned Alfred’s hands with one hand. Abruptly, his other hand smacked Alfred across the face. The pain was sharp, sudden, confusing, the sting seeming to radiate everywhere, and he struggled to pinpoint exactly what had happened.
“Tell me what you want.”
“But I did,” Alfred whined, only to be slapped again. His head turned to the side, and he found himself pouting. “I did! I want you!”
He expected another slap.
Instead, Ivan sharply pinched one of his nipples. Rather than releasing it after, though, he kept it in his vice grip.
Alfred’s eyes lined with startled tears. His back arched against the bed, as though pushing up towards his hand would help alleviate the pressure. It did no such thing.
“Want you to fuck me!” Alfred needed to be more specific. “I want you to…I want you to…I want you!”
Ivan twisted his nipple. Alfred gritted his teeth, toes curling.
“Do you think this is enough to excite me? You’re pathetic.” He released his nipple then, and Alfred fell slack against the bed after, panting for breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Can I kiss you?” Alfred asked.
“No,” Ivan said, voice as cold as his hands were warm. He released Alfred’s wrists then, but Alfred didn’t dare move them, keeping them above his head. He wasn’t sure what Ivan was doing, until he felt coarse rope begin to loop around his already-sore wrists. Ivan’s voice was gentler as he added, “If your fingers start to feel numb, you need to tell me.”
“Okay,” Alfred agreed. “...can I kiss you now?”
Ivan ignored his question, but his knee nudged up higher as he finished tying his wrists together. The solid form of his kneecap rested directly against Alfred’s cunt. It was all Alfred could focus on, his breathing erratic and his skin blazing.
“How does he usually reach climax?” Ivan asked, and Alfred realized he was talking to Matthew, rather than him. Alfred wanted to whine that he could answer for himself, but the fact he was being discussed like an object enticed him more than he realized it would.
“Like…what do we usually do?”
“Yes. What does he enjoy? Clitoral stimulation? Penetration?”
“Everything. He’s easy.”
Alfred was mortified. His clit was throbbing.
“We use a lot of toys,” Matthew added. “He’s kind of a size queen-”
“Mattie,” Alfred couldn’t control himself, whining his protest.
Ivan’s knee moved away. At first, Alfred assumed this was his punishment.
And then his fingertips swiftly swatted his cunt, slapping him between his legs and making Alfred nearly shriek, though more out of surprise than actual pain.
“Keep your mouth closed and your legs open, slut,” Ivan said bluntly. “That is your only purpose here.”
Alfred opened his mouth despite this warning, only to have his neck roughly grabbed. He instinctively shrank back against the bed, Ivan’s fingers clasping his throat tight. He felt the movements of their bodies as Ivan moved in close, his breath hot against his face where he’d gotten close.
“I don’t need gags to keep you silenced. Don’t make me angry.”
Holy fuck.
Alfred felt dizzy, skin sticky where paths of sweat had drifted over his body. His mouth closed once more, and he nodded as best as he could. The hand against his neck loosened, then released him, and Ivan presumably sat back up, considering his tone grew conversational again as he spoke to Matthew.
“Has he taken anything as big as me?”
How shameless! He was just going to talk about his size–size Alfred had foolishly not mapped out with his hands when he’d had the chance–and make his husband ogle him? Surely Matthew would be too mortified to answer.
“I don’t think so,” Matthew said after a moment of deliberation. “Not for lack of suggestions, though. But I’m always so afraid of hurting him.”
“How foolish,” Ivan laughed. “All he is good for is being hurt.”
Matthew didn’t verbalize agreement, unsurprising to Alfred, but the fact he didn’t refute him either made Alfred’s heart pound excitedly.
Ivan traced a finger down the center of Alfred’s chest. Like a warm blade, threatening to split open his sternum. Alfred leaned up into his touch, hips arched up off the bed as his hand settled against his lower stomach. Ivan pushed a little more firmly, until Alfred was pressed flush against the bed again.
“Are you going to tie him up more than that?” Matthew’s tone was curious, lacking judgment.
“No,” Ivan said after the briefest of pauses. His hand remained just under Alfred’s belly button. Firmly pressing down against him. “Not this time.”
Alfred didn’t even have a chance to be disappointed with assurance like that. Not this time. So there really would be a next time. Like some sort of ongoing sexual therapy session. He grinned, assuming no one was paying attention to him.
“What has you so giddy, whore?” Ivan questioned. His hand pulled away from Alfred’s skin, and with it Alfred’s smile disappeared too.
“I-”
“I do not care what your answer is.”
But he asked. Alfred’s brow furrowed under the conflicting commands.
Ivan crawled up his body, resting the weight of his body against Alfred in the process. The heft of his cock against his bare skin helped smooth the confusion. It didn’t matter what he did, Alfred realized. He was going to be talked down to, smacked around, used, no matter how good or how bad he was.
His arms briefly raised from the bed, instinctive urge to touch, before he remembered his hands were bound together and he dropped them back. He could feel that Ivan’s face was close to his own again, and he tried petulantly to raise up to capture his lips into a kiss. Ivan must have turned his head, because Alfred’s lips brushed against his jaw instead.
“Is he always like this?” Ivan’s voice wavered with a barely contained laugh.
“A kissing whore? Yeah.”
“Hm. Perhaps I should be putting his mouth to proper use then.” Ivan’s thumb moved over Alfred’s bottom lip, enough pressure to make his mouth hinge open just slightly. His thumb moved into his mouth, and Alfred could taste his artificial skin as he glided his thumb over his tongue.
Alfred wrapped his lips around Ivan’s thumb, gently sucking on it. Ivan’s hips shifted just slightly, and his hard cock rubbed against Alfred’s lower stomach.
For a moment, this was their existence, Alfred sucking on Ivan’s thumb. Ivan’s free hand finally began to explore, at first cupping Alfred’s face, then dropping lower, experimentally cradling one of his breasts. He squeezed him, then pinched his nipple, gentler than earlier. Alfred moaned against Ivan’s thumb.
“Your skin is so soft,” Ivan marveled. “How can such a weak slut possibly survive?”
When had Alfred progressed from ‘practically a virgin’ to ‘slut,’ anyway? Not that he was complaining by any means (he couldn’t with his mouth full anyway). But it was almost amusing, were it not for the fact that it had him excessively hot.
“You need me to protect you, yes?”
Alfred’s pride said no. Emphatically.
His lust said yes. Whorishly.
It was a mercy really that Ivan had already told him not to speak, because Alfred wasn’t sure which emotion would win out in terms of responding to such an inquiry.
Ivan drew his thumb out of Alfred’s mouth, casually wiping the saliva off on his cheek, before grabbing a handful of his hair, roughly pulling until Alfred’s head lifted from the pillows.
And just when Alfred thought he couldn’t take anymore, Ivan was kissing him again. A reward, perhaps, for being so good, so quiet. Quiet that was broken as Alfred gasped and groaned against Ivan’s lips.
Because while one hand was still pulling Alfred’s hair, maintaining pressure against his scalp, the other was exploring his body. Gently caressing his breasts for a moment, then dipping lower, lower, until Alfred felt him pinch his thighs, then press them further open.
Ivan placed his hand against Alfred’s cunt as though he owned it. It reminded him that earlier he’d smacked it, but this touch lingered much longer. Alfred squirmed, as Ivan’s tongue pressed into his mouth, and his fingers spread him open.
Ivan broke the kiss, Alfred left desperate, wanting. And vulnerable, realizing that most likely Ivan was staring at his handwork, holding him open, spread, shameless. He murmured something quiet, incomprehensible. It took Alfred a moment to realize he was speaking in Russian.
He didn’t dare ask him to clarify. After all, good sluts kept quiet.
He just hoped it wasn’t anything insulting. He liked being lightly degraded in English, sure, but the idea of Ivan having a private moment just to mock him made his chest feel heavy.
He didn’t have long to consider it though. Ivan released his hold on his hair finally, now free hand pressing against him to lay him back down. “Alfred,” he said, tone very serious. “You can speak now. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes,” Alfred said. “You’re really sexy.”
“Thank you.”
For some reason, the fact he was thanking him made Alfred laugh just a little despite himself. Ivan stroked his palm against Alfred’s cheek.
His other hand didn’t waver from his cunt.
“I do not usually break the mood so often,” Ivan said. “But I do not usually have such inexperienced partners either. I need to know that you want this.”
“I want this,” Alfred insisted. “Why are you so worried I don’t?”
“You’ve been shaking this whole time.”
“Shaking?” He had to take a moment to assess himself. Sure enough, he really could feel the slightest quiver to his hands, his toes continuously clenching and unclenching, shivers running up and down his body. “I’m just excited.”
“He does that,” Matthew said.
“I do?” Alfred wanted Ivan’s fingers inside of him. He wanted him to touch him, more than just holding him exposed for the entirety of the room. And yet he found himself confused by Matthew’s input.
“You do. When I’m making you food or when I’m about to go down on you or…god, when your favorite song comes on. You’re very excitable. It doesn’t take much.”
“Oh…ohh,” He didn’t have time to really think about it, as Ivan brushed his thumb over his clit.
And if he’d been trembling before, he must have been downright vibrating now.
Gently, Ivan circled his thumb over his clit. And then little strokes. Alfred wondered if he could feel his pulse between his legs, if his heartbeat was so heavy that he could sense it. He was probably highly sensitive, specialized to sense even the smallest shifts in environmental pressure, what with his military design. Curiosity bloomed in him almost as rapidly as his lust. Alfred spread his legs apart even further, hips rising up to grind himself against Ivan’s touch.
Ivan withdrew his thumb, and before Alfred could ask why, he roughly slapped his cunt again. He wasn’t sure if it was harder than before, or if Alfred was just more sensitive with arousal. He whined, hips falling back against the bed.
“You need to learn restraint,” Ivan said. “Nobody wants a greedy whore.”
Alfred thought about replying, realized they were probably back in the mode where he needed to be silent, and thought better of it.
“You don’t deserve my touch,” Ivan added. “I’m going to use your mouth instead.”
It was a strange cocktail of emotions, disappointment coupled with intense excitement. He’d never sucked a cock before, android or human, not really. He’d gone down on Matthew’s strap before, but they’d ended up giggling so much during it that they’d stopped before anything could really progress very far. And this would give him a good idea of how big Ivan really was.
He certainly felt big from what little he’d experienced so far.
So caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized Ivan had stopped touching him completely, hadn’t realized he’d moved away, until he felt movement between his legs again. He heard the buzz for only a second before something small and vibrating and cold was pressed unceremoniously against his clit.
Alfred squeezed his thighs closer together in startled shock, his cry high pitched and unseemly. Judging by the size and the speed, it was some sort of bullet vibe. He could feel his own wetness begin to stain the blankets underneath his body.
Ivan held it in place for a few moments longer, likely just ensuring it was in a good position, before he moved his hands away, once more climbing up his torso, chest, very briefly grazing against his nipples, before he collected his face in his palms. He leaned in as though to kiss him, but bit his bottom lip instead, sharp enough that Alfred was certain he drew blood this time. He kissed after, softer, and Alfred wasn’t sure if he was trembling harder or if the vibrator just amplified everything.
“Don’t come,” Ivan said, tone bordering on tender. Was he feeling affectionately towards Alfred, or was he making fun of him? Alfred wasn’t sure, except that he was squeezing his thighs together, trying to rock the vibe in a way that it would give him a little more friction, and also trying to prevent it from falling away from him.
How was Ivan going to use his mouth while they were still on the bed? Alfred hardly had a moment to consider this before Ivan began to move him, grabbing his bound hands and pulling them forward, letting them fall into Alfred’s lap instead. He tugged Alfred up the bed then, sitting him upright, back against the headboard. Alfred rested his head back against it, dizzy with lust, with general disorientation.
He remembered when they’d initially been filling out forms to arrange this, how most options had involved going to a hotel instead. How grateful Alfred was, that Matthew had insisted they should do this at home. He already felt so overwhelmed with the newness of a different partner, different sexual dynamics. To try to map out a completely different floor plan, bed, living space on top of that would have likely pushed him over the edge.
Speaking of edges, Alfred’s heart hammered away desperately at the continued stimulation against his clit. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. He thought longingly of Ivan’s hands, how they’d felt in those brief moments of contact. Even the slapping had been enticing. He needed more.
But it wasn’t his decision. He was at Ivan’s mercy.
Just as he’d hoped.
He tried to figure out how Ivan was situated as he felt him move forward. One of Ivan’s hands pressed against the top of his head, almost patronizing.
“Let’s see if that big mouth is good for anything,” Ivan said.
Perhaps that should have been insulting, but Alfred just took it as a challenge. He’d prove how good he could be. How useful. Maybe even sexy. How he craved Ivan’s approval, despite just meeting him.
His stomach tied itself in knots, intertwining over and over again, and his cunt soaked the bed beneath him, and Ivan moved his hand away from the top of his head to instead use his thumb to nudge Alfred’s mouth open.
Alfred let his jaw drop open, tongue peeking out of his mouth just slightly. Ivan cupped his cheek again, cradling his face for just a moment.
He said something again in Russian, but even if Alfred wanted to question it, he couldn’t, as he felt the tip of Ivan’s cock bump against his tongue.
Alfred always had a bit of an oral fixation. Even if this was new, it still felt familiar. Ivan didn’t exactly taste human, not exactly like flesh, but it wasn’t as though Alfred really had anything to compare him to. He curled his lips around his teeth as Ivan pressed forward, pushing the tip of himself into his mouth. Alfred’s tongue pressed flat against the bottom of his cock, as Ivan continued to lead himself forward.
Inch after inch, Ivan pressed into Alfred’s eager mouth. Alfred’s mouth salivated, his tongue curling, nestling the weight of him against himself. Ivan’s thickness stretched his mouth, jaw already starting to ache, and he suspected he wasn’t even halfway in him.
Alfred tried to widen his mouth, to keep from letting the pressure of his teeth dig into Ivan in the process. His lips could only provide so much cushioning. Ivan pressed his hand against the back of Alfred’s head. Perhaps that was the motivation that led Alfred to bob his head forward, just slightly, his throat quivering dangerously. He tried to breathe through his nose, his eyes already beginning to water.
He expected Ivan to grow impatient.
“Good boy,” Ivan said, his fingers strumming softly through Alfred’s hair. “That’s it. Just breathe. Such a good, pretty boy.”
Alfred felt his body relax, melting against his poor wet bed. And in the same moment, Ivan thrust forward.
Alfred gurgled, embarrassed at the sounds he was making. Especially when Ivan was being so quiet. He traced his tongue against Ivan, teasing the artificial vein that seemed to have been etched into his design. His hands, bound and resting against his lap, wriggled and tensed into fists, one of his ankles crossing over the other, intensifying the feeling of the bullet against him. He groaned, knowing he hadn’t taken every inch yet, and yet Ivan started to draw back, partially by drawing his hips back, but also pulling on Alfred’s hair to guide him off.
Just as he thought he was going to pull out completely, Ivan thrust forward again. Deeper this time, Alfred’s mouth tensing around him as he was certain he’d trigger his gag reflex.
He managed to keep himself contained, focusing on the feeling of Ivan’s cock filling his mouth. His lips stretched, and he swore he could feel Ivan throb within his mouth. Did it feel good to him? It was so hard to tell, with how quiet he was. Was he even programmed to feel anything at all?
Alfred started moving again, pressing himself forward, eager to take more, only for Ivan to grab a fistful of his hair and stop him. Alfred groaned in response.
“Careful,” Ivan chided, but then released his hold. Permission, Alfred suspected, to move if he so chose.
And so he did, dipping forward, trying so hard to take all of him. He couldn’t, and he didn’t even have the liberty to use his hands to stroke what he couldn’t take. It left him feeling useless, disappointed, and a little nervous about what all this size would mean for him should Ivan grace him with the honor of fucking more than his mouth tonight.
He pulled back, swirling his tongue over everything he could, lapping at the faint, undefined taste of him. He hollowed his cheeks, trying to tighten up a mouth that already felt tensed up, because surely tighter was better.
His mouth surrounded the head of him, his tongue lapping at the tip. Startled for a moment by how wet he was with precum. He hadn’t realized he’d be designed that way–but then, he’d likely gone through several upgrades to make him a proper sexbot, of course he’d ejaculate. He tasted salty, but still distinctly unhuman (Alfred wasn’t sure how he knew that; perhaps it was just because he was well aware that Ivan was not a flesh and blood person like himself), and yet surprisingly addictive. This surely meant that Ivan was enjoying himself, right?
Ivan pressed on the back of his head suddenly, thrusting sharply into his mouth. Deeper this time, Alfred certain that he’d breached his throat this time. His throat fluttered desperately, and he seemed to forget how to breathe. Ivan held him against him, probably only for a few seconds, but it felt eternal.
Ivan began to fuck his mouth in earnest then, sharp, but slow thrusts within his mouth. Water dribbled down Alfred’s cheeks from his eyes, and he could tell that he was drooling excessively at the same time. It must have been an awful sight. But he couldn’t seem to focus for long on his embarrassment, so caught up on being used as a cocksleeve, and on the mounting pleasure of the toy pressed against himself.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, Ivan pulled out abruptly. He could hear the sound of his hand moving against himself, wet with Alfred’s spit, and then felt hot, sticky liquid splash onto his face. His cheek, his chin, his lips, dripping down his neck and onto his chest. Even in climax, Ivan was quiet, but Alfred was not, voice raspy as he moaned Ivan’s name.
And then, for a moment, everything was still. Quiet, except for the buzz of the vibrator and Alfred’s own clumsy breathing. It was a reverent atmosphere, one that surely they couldn’t break.
Ivan cradled the back of Alfred’s head, leaning forth and kissing his forehead–perhaps because it was one of the few areas on his face that wasn’t covered in come. It was such an affectionate gesture that Alfred felt the urge to hide his face, though he wasn’t sure where he could do so, and suspected he wouldn’t be granted such a reprieve for long anyway.
Alfred felt Ivan’s hand reach between his legs then, and for a glorious moment he thought he was going to finger him, but all he did was remove the bullet and its delicious vibrations from Alfred’s body. Alfred whimpered, his lip wobbling despite himself. It wasn’t fair. It felt so good, but he needed more. Didn’t he deserve more? Hadn’t Ivan called him good?
He felt intoxicated with how filled with desire he was.
Ivan grabbed Alfred’s hips, tugging him forward, until he flopped back against the bed, no longer supported by the headboard. Alfred tried to steady his breathing, and failed at hiding his pout. His bottom lip felt heavy with how it jutted out, and sore from where Ivan had bit him earlier. His bound hands rested clumsily against his own stomach.
And Ivan began kissing his neck again. Slowly at first, then more fevered, finding every patch of him that he was able to. Alfred tilted his head back, his attempts at steadying his breath failing now as Ivan attacked his throat. Occasionally he’d graze him with his teeth, but he didn’t bite him as he had before.
He could feel Ivan’s cock against his leg again. And it was still hard. How was he still hard?
Oh right. He wasn’t limited by human biology, was he?
“Ivan?” Alfred said, before realizing he’d made a mistake. He wasn’t supposed to speak. Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to speak! Ivan’s mouth stilled against him. “Sorry,” he gasped out. “I just…wait, before you get mad-”
“I’m not mad,” He said.
“I know, I know, sorry, bad phrasing. I just…thank you. For doing this for me.”
Ivan kissed his collarbone. “You’re paying me,” He pointed out.
“I know,” Alfred said softly. “But you didn’t have to agree.”
“I needed the money.”
“Oh.”
Ivan kissed lower, carefully slipping down Alfred’s body. He kissed his chest, lips moving over the swell of his breasts carefully, as though he too needed to map out his body. “Does that upset you?” He asked. “That this is for money?”
“A little,” Alfred said. Then clarified, “Because I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
The laugh that escaped Ivan after he said that was sharp, almost startled, more of a snort than a laugh. “You? Take advantage of me?”
Alfred frowned, turning his face to the side. The come on his face transferred to the pillowcase in the process. “I’m not that pathetic, Ivan. And people can be cruel. I don’t…I don’t want to be a cruel person to someone vulnerable.”
“You think of me as vulnerable,” It was a statement rather than a question.
“I mean, kind of?”
“I don’t need your pity.” Ivan’s words weren’t harsh, but there was a finality there. There was no discussion to continue if this was the route they were going.
“Sorry,” Alfred felt like he was taking after his husband with all of his apologies. How was Matthew holding up, anyway? Should he ask him, or would that just put him on the spot?
“How is your throat?” Ivan asked rather than acknowledging the apology. “Do you need water?”
“No. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wanted it rough, remember?”
“I was holding back.”
Alfred pouted. “I can handle it.”
“You will be able to eventually,” Ivan said. “But-” he grabbed at his wrists suddenly, and Alfred felt the rope loosen, his hands freed. Somehow this only tightened the knots in his stomach. “For now-”
“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” Alfred heard the despair in his own voice before he felt it in his head. His wrists ached, but he refused to rub them, to let on that they were sore.
Ivan grabbed his hand, gently rubbing his wrist himself. And Alfred dreaded his answer, the inevitable no. Obviously they were done. And sure, he’d wanted to be used, and edging could be fun, but-
“Yes,” Ivan said.
“Then why’d you untie me?”
“I like how you touch me. Besides,” He grabbed Alfred by the hips and for a moment, the world spun. He flipped them, Alfred now straddling Ivan’s lap, Ivan presumably laying on his back on the bed, “I want you like this.”
“Doing all the work?” Alfred teased. His hands pressed flat against Ivan’s chest, as he tried to comprehend this new positioning. His knees pressed against the bed on either side of Ivan’s body, his cunt flush against his stomach with how he was sitting. It took everything in him not to grind, to shamelessly rut against Ivan’s abs.
“Are you so lazy that you can’t manage this much?”
Alfred stuck out his tongue, only for Ivan to grasp it between his thumb and index finger, firmly grasping it and refusing to release.
“Just because you are unbound now doesn’t mean I won’t still put you in your place, brat,” Ivan squeezed his tongue, a brief flutter of pressure, then finally released it. Alfred retracted it into his mouth, savoring the taste of Ivan’s fingers in the process.
Ivan grabbed Alfred’s hips, squeezing them with such a casual sense of ownership that Alfred almost forgot they’d just met today.
“Lift yourself up,” Ivan said, giving the slightest tug upward. Alfred pushed himself up to his full height on his knees, grimacing at the feeling of wetness that clung from himself down to Ivan’s stomach in the process. “Do you think you can take me now?”
“You mean just sticking it in?”
“Yes.”
Alfred considered it. He was used to hours of foreplay, honestly. Of caresses and lips and fingers, of teasing.
And the idea of someone as large as Ivan just entering him, thrusting into him tight and brutally, should have been frightening.
Alfred felt as though he were going to pass out, his head was spinning and his skin was flushed. “Yes!” He cried out. “Yes! Just fuck me, Ivan, oh my god, yes. I want to feel everything. Make it hurt.”
“It will,” Ivan said casually. His hand slid from Alfred’s hip to rest against his ass instead.
Alfred could feel Ivan’s body move under him, apparently scooting back against the bed to adjust himself better underneath Alfred’s body.
“Are you fine with this?” He asked.
Alfred tilted his head. “Of course I-”
“I was not asking you,” Ivan’s tone took on a disappointed, curt tone, before he repeated the question. “Are you fine with this, Matthew?”
“Yeah,” Matthew said breathlessly. “It’s, ah, it’s really good.”
“Are you sure you’re okay, Mattie?” Alfred chimed in.
“...I’ve been keeping myself entertained this whole time, you don’t have to worry.”
“What, are you reading or something?”
“He’s touching himself,” Ivan said. Alfred could imagine how flustered Matthew must be at being called out, unsurprised to hear his nervous little laugh in response.
“You are?” Alfred grinned. “You know, if you want to join in-”
“I want to watch,” Matthew said before he could finish. “Please. Fuck him. Break him. I want you to make him cry.”
Alfred wasn’t sure what to say to that. After all, it wasn’t directed at him. But he felt like he needed to do something to indicate his willingness. He placed a hand against Ivan’s stomach for support, then tested the waters by lowering himself down. Ivan definitely had rearranged himself properly, because Alfred brushed his cunt directly against his cock in the process.
For once, Ivan moaned. Such a faint sound that Alfred almost didn’t believe it was real. His hand moved from its resting place, only to roughly spank Alfred in response. It was a strange decision, to offer punishment in the wake of pleasure. And stranger still, it just made Alfred want to do it again.
He pressed down a little more insistently, grinding over him. Ivan spanked him again, and again, before he roughly grabbed his hips with both hands. He pulled Alfred upward, stopping his teasing.
And then, just as sharply, he pulled him down. Alfred felt the tip of his cock split between him, bumping against his entrance. He paused there, and at first Alfred thought he was trying to ease him into it.
And then he realized he couldn’t seem to get himself to fit. He was pulling down on Alfred, his cock straining against him, but even as wet as Alfred was, he couldn’t seem to enter him.
“Fuck,” Ivan hissed. He added something in Russian, presumably profanity, before returning to English, “I may need to lay you down for a better angle, you’re too tight.”
Wasn’t that supposed to be a good thing? Alfred felt ashamed all the same. His head bowed, for a moment silenced by his own body’s inadequacies.
But he was nothing if not determined.
Alfred reached down, clumsily feeling around until he was touching Ivan’s cock. He wrapped his fingers around the base of him, startled for a moment by just how much of him filled his grip. His other hand pressed against Ivan’s stomach again, just for support. He just needed to get the right angle, to rely on gravity, and to prove all his exercising was for a good cause.
Using his grip to guide Ivan’s cock to himself, Alfred spread his legs as far apart as he could while still keeping himself kneeling on the bed. And then, as fluidly and quickly as he could, he pressed his body down. Sitting on Ivan’s cock, letting the tip pierce through his cunt. For a moment they were frozen, and then inch by inch, faster with each bit, he began to take him.
It hurt.
His overjoyed status at succeeding was clouded so quickly by how badly it fucking hurt.
Alfred’s breath caught in his throat, no longer actively pressing down, but his weight enough to keep the momentum going until he sank all the way to the base, Ivan completely ensnared within his cunt. He clenched down around him, almost as though his body were trying to push him out, but given their position that was impossible.
There was something claustrophobic in this moment, trapped by the sound of his own breathing and the pulsing pain radiating between his thighs. His fingernails dug into Ivan’s stomach, though he was hardly aware he was scratching.
Ivan’s hands moved from his hips to cup his face. “Alfred. Alfred, breathe. Breathe for me.”
Alfred hardly realized what he was saying, except that it was a command of some sort. He sucked in a shuddery breath obediently, holding it, then sputtering it out in a gasp.
“Is it too much?”
“No,” Alfred managed. “No, I’m okay, thank you.”
“Shh.” Ivan brushed his thumb underneath his eye. Was he crying? Was he really crying already? “Do you need to stop?”
“No. I just…I just…why are you so big? Was your cock a missile before you were decommissioned? You’re so huge.”
Ivan laughed softly. “Just focus on breathing. You’re doing so good.”
Alfred sniffled, and tried to lift his hips. Ivan moved a hand to his thigh, squeezing it softly.
“Just breathe. We can do more soon.”
“I wanted it to hurt,” Alfred said pitifully. “Why am I…why am I…”
“It takes time. You’re doing good.”
“Does it hurt for you too?” His body seemed to be squeezing rhythmically around Ivan, surely the pressure was unpleasant.
“No,” Ivan said. “You feel good.”
The flattery that flowed through Alfred’s veins was nearly enough to overpower the intense pain. He felt good to Ivan. His body brought him pleasure. He grinned, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, then placing both hands against Ivan’s stomach.
The pain was still there, but it seemed to be transforming itself into something else, something he lacked the words for, except that it felt good. Exhilarating. Because Alfred was strong, he was strong and he was brave and he was capable and he could handle a cartoonishly large robot dick, dammit. He could not only handle it, but overcome it, conquer it.
He pressed against Ivan and battled his own body’s cries to remain still as he lifted himself up, the friction of Ivan’s cock against the walls of his cunt almost enough to render him useless, but he moved all the same, pulling up until only the tip remained in him, before dropping himself back down again.
Ivan’s stomach tensed under Alfred’s touch, taut, and he grabbed Alfred’s hips once more. At first Alfred thought he was going to stop him.
But soon he realized he was aiding him instead. Lifting him as Alfred pulled up, then yanking him back down as Alfred descended. It took a moment to get the rhythm right, but soon Alfred found himself riding his cock, gasping and moaning and whimpering–because it did still hurt, but oh was it a dizzyingly enticing sort of hurt–with every motion.
He wondered if everyone was staring at him. How he must seem in this moment. Desperate, perhaps. Pathetic, even. Needy, certainly.
Enticing, hopefully.
If Matthew was touching himself, surely he had to look at least somewhat desirable. Alfred had been told he was attractive before, but that wasn’t in a context like this. Did he look good while he was being ravished?
Did it really matter?
Alfred’s head lulled back, lips parted, and he concentrated on just how deep Ivan was inside him. It seemed impossible that his body could take so much, he swore he could feel him all the way up in his belly. Just as he was starting to grow used to the feeling though, Ivan flipped them, not missing a thrust even as he turned them around, Alfred now flat on his back, Ivan over him.
Ivan grabbed Alfred’s wrists, the skin still tender, and pinned them above his head again, as he doubled over him. Alfred tried to find his face, to kiss him, but given their positioning, he couldn’t seem to get it right. He squeezed his legs around Ivan’s sides, listening as the headboard slapped the wall.
“Next time, you’re going to be punished for this, for making me lose control so badly,” Ivan promised.
“How are you going to do it?” Alfred asked, skin tingling. His hands were pinned with only one of Ivan’s hands.
The other slipped between the space of their bodies. Ivan strummed his clit expertly.
“I’m going to paddle you.”
“That’s it?” Alfred wasn’t sure if he was genuinely disappointed or if he was playing a game with him. It was hard to concentrate on intentions when everything felt so tight and so good. “I can handle that.”
“I’m going to break you over my knee.”
“And then what?”
“Enough of your talking.”
“Then kiss me,” Alfred insisted, desperate. He was close. When had he gotten so close?
Ivan’s teeth clashed against him as they kissed. Why he gave in so easily, Alfred wasn’t sure, except that it tasted like a victory…and a promise that he’d be made to pay for it eventually.
God, he hoped so.
Ivan’s fingers had loosened around his wrists and Alfred took the opportunity to free them, wrapping his arms around Ivan’s neck, pulling him close. He wondered if he was warm enough.
Ivan adjusted his angle, thrust harder into him, and Alfred cried into the kiss. He couldn’t see, but he could feel every color of every sunset, every rainbow, every starbeam that ever existed in the infinite cosmos of the universe in this moment.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, Ivan pulled out of him, breaking the kiss, only to pattern kisses along his cheeks and jaw. Alfred hardly realized what was happening, his body weak, dizzy, sticky with sweat and Ivan’s come, as he was picked up again, placed on his hands and knees. He sank down on his elbows and forearms, unable to hold himself up on hands, head bowed, as Ivan moved behind him. Ivan gave his ass an appreciative little pat once again, gentler than the earlier spanking–or maybe Alfred was just growing desensitized in his absolute bliss–before he started fucking him from behind.
They were likely facing Matthew–Alfred was certain he could hear his movements, fidgety and wet but cautious–and it only amplified his own desires. As though to test his theory that he was closer to Matthew from this position, he reached out in the darkness. It took a moment, but Matthew must have leaned forward, taking his hand, gently squeezing it.
“You’re so gorgeous like this, Alfred,” Matthew said softly.
Ivan’s weight draped over his back. His hand rested against the back of Alfred’s, the hand that wasn’t currently holding Matthew’s. Alfred turned his wrist, until his palm was pressing against Ivan’s. Ivan’s other hand must have been centered against the mattress. Ivan kissed the back of his neck, Alfred letting his head fall forward, forehead resting against the bed, as kisses became more tongue, and then more teeth. Marking him. Claiming him.
The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with the heavy sound of Alfred’s breathing, all nearly drowned out by how thick his own pulse sounded rushing in his ears. His knees wobbled, threatening to give out under him, but he was determined to stay strong.
Ivan kissed his neck one final time, then kissed the outer shell of his ear, whispering roughly against him, “Show me what a good boy you are, Alfred. Come for me.”
Alfred didn’t think he was exactly the type to do as he was told.
But that command, coupled with Ivan managing to thrust even deeper into him from this angle, and given all the stimulation he’d already been through, what could he possibly do but let himself come completely undone?
Alfred buried his face against the bed, not meaning to hide away, but subconsciously needing a moment of solitude in the wake of the very public orgasm being torn from him. Alfred felt himself clench down around Ivan, who was still thrusting into him, and tried to muffle his own sobbing moans.
It felt so good. It felt so good that it scared him, his body shaking worse than ever, the front half of his body slumped against the bed, mouth drooling and whining. Matthew’s lips kissed each of his fingertips, then the back of his hand, and Ivan gently squeezed his other hand.
Ivan released his hold of his hand, moving his fingers through his hair. Alfred whined as he pulled it again, wrenching his head away from the bed, exposing the mess that was his expression to all of the room. Alfred felt so naked, so exposed, and so overstimulated, even as the last waves of his climax throbbed through his body.
Ivan managed a few more thrusts before Alfred felt him finish inside him, burying his cock deep into his body and pumping him full of his come. Tears streaked Alfred’s cheeks, though he wasn’t quite sure why, because he was also grinning at this point, a ludicrous, delirious, exhausted sort of grin. His lips hurt, but he wasn’t sure if that was from smiling or from the earlier blowjob.
Ivan released his hold on his hair, only to grab his throat instead, not so much choking him as he was supporting him, holding his head up and keeping him exactly how he wanted him. Alfred shakily pushed himself up onto his palms again, rather than his lowered position, as Ivan carefully pulled himself out of him. He felt him wipe his cock off on his hip, and for some reason that simple act made Alfred moan again. To be treated as nothing but a tissue after being fucked…
“Hot,” He croaked out deliriously.
Ivan released his neck, wrapping his arms around him, then turning him around once again, laying Alfred on his back on the bed. He could feel come–his and Ivan’s both–trickle out of him, leaving still further stains on the poor blankets. He shivered, wondering what Ivan was doing, before he felt him lay down next to him. One broad arm draped over Alfred’s body, palm resting against his breast.
It was too much stimulation. Alfred weakly pushed at Ivan’s wrist, directing his touch just a little lower. For a moment, he expected Ivan to protest, but instead he kissed Alfred’s temple. His lips lingered against him.
“Was I good?” Alfred asked, the warbling in his voice unfortunate and weak and he wanted to hide his face once again.
“Yes.”
“Good enough that you’re not going to punish me next time?”
“Good enough that I have no choice but to punish you.”
Alfred laughed. “Cool.” He fought against the invading urge to curl up into Ivan’s arms and fall asleep. “Mattie?”
“Mm?”
“Did you, uh…how do you feel?”
“Three times.” Matthew said by way of answer.
Alfred’s skin shouldn’t have been able to heat up any further, but he felt himself burn under the knowledge of his husband’s self-induced orgasms.
“That doesn’t upset you, does it?” Matthew added.
“No, it turns me on–which is bad, because my pussy is really sore.”
“It will be more painful tomorrow,” Ivan said, in a contradictory reassuring tone.
“Gee. Thanks.”
“It’s what you ordered, is it not?”
Alfred supposed he had a point there. “This must have been very hardcore for you. Are you okay, Ivan?”
“Hardcore?” Ivan slipped his arms more firmly around him, pulling Alfred flush against his body. “This was very vanilla, Alfred, are you making a joke?”
“Vanilla??” Alfred exclaimed in shock. “I…that’s not–hey!”
“It was very cute. I enjoyed myself. We will work up your stamina.”
“So…so how often are you going to come over?” Alfred leaned forward, nuzzling his head against Ivan’s shoulder. It was a little disconcerting, the lack of motion, the lack of breathing, but the solidity of his body, the warmth of his fake skin, all of it created a sense of comfort that he desperately needed right now.
He expected Ivan to say they could discuss this. To start talking business. But he decisively stated, “Once a month.”
“That’s it?”
“I have other clients, Alfred. Besides, you’ll grow sick of me soon enough without adding additional sessions.”
“I won’t get sick of you. You’re incredible.”
“Hm,” Ivan made a soft, non-committal sound, his hands gently caressing Alfred’s back. “Times are changing, I may be dismantled before you can grow tired of my services, this is true.”
“That’s–fuck, Ivan, that’s really…that’s a really twisted, morbid thing to say!”
“Existence is finite, and those like me are especially prone to obsolescence.”
“That’s a really bleak thing to say, especially during naked cuddle time.”
Ivan chuckled. Alfred really found himself hooked on the sound of his laugh. “Forgive me. I was not originally designed for this life, perhaps this is just a holdover from my old days.”
“It must be hard, how things change.”
Ivan was quiet, even as he began to separate himself from Alfred’s body. Alfred whined, reaching out clumsily to try to keep him from going. “It is late. Matthew, you should run him a bath. It’ll help keep him from experiencing any muscle cramps.”
“I can take a shower myself–where are you going? Did I offend you?”
“It’s late,” Ivan repeated. “I have other engagements. And you won’t want me overstaying my welcome. The money is on the counter, yes?”
“I…yeah,” Matthew said, clearly just as thrown off by the abrupt exit too. “You don’t have to leave yet. I’m going to make dinner, if you wanted to-”
“He doesn’t eat,” Alfred interjected.
“I can eat,” Ivan corrected, and briefly his hand had returned, combing through Alfred’s hair. “But I see no purpose in wasting your meals. No, I must leave.”
Alfred listened as Ivan started to presumably dress himself. He imagined it, every layer cutting him off from the cold of the world. And cutting him off from Alfred’s touch.
“You’ll be back in a month?” Alfred asked uncertainly. The bed jostled, as Matthew climbed onto the mattress with him. He must have realized how alone he was feeling, and sure enough, his arms were slipping around him.
“Yes. I’ll be in touch. I have your number.”
“Do we have yours?” They had the contact information for the agency, of course, but did they have Ivan’s contact details directly?
“I have your number,” Ivan repeated. “Take care of each other,” He added, perhaps as a generic goodbye, perhaps as an earnest hope that they’d provide comfort in the wake of his absence.
Alfred struggled to think of the right words to make Ivan stay.
But before he could say anything at all, he heard the door hinges, the soft closing of the latch, and the final retreating echoes of his footsteps.