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“Do I not arouse you?” Vince asks, voice sincere.. as sincere as his voice can be. His grip on Rody’s throat tightens, his thigh presses upwards between Rody’s legs. “You claim that you want me so badly, that you love me. You’re whining and rutting against my thigh, like a dog. And yet you’re not hard.”
Rody freezes, dull green eyes stare up at Vince.
“Don’t-“ Rody’s cut off with a groan as Vincent’s leg presses against him again. “Don’t act like that, Vince.”
“Don’t act like it feels good if you’re not enjoying it. Don’t put on an act.” Vince scowls, moving his leg away and taking a step back.
“Vincent, wait, no.” Rody frowns, crossing his arms around himself, as tight as he can. So tight it hurts his ribs, it’s grounding, in a sickening way. A familiar feeling.
“Well what is it, Rody? I’m sick of giving you my all just for you to give nothing in return.” Vince grabs Rody’s face, his nails dig into the flesh of his cheeks. It’s too hard, it hurts. It’ll break skin if he doesn’t move.
“It's not that!” Rody exclaims, trying to back himself even further against the wall. It doesn’t work, Vince’s hold is too tight. “You just- you don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get, Lamoree?”
“Just.. I’ll show you, is that okay? Just can we do it in the bedroom, like an actual couple? Not against the wall like I’m someone you found at the bar?” He’s nearly begging.
Vincent nods, following Rody into his bedroom. Rody sits on the bed, the comforter wrinkles under him.
“Look, I don’t know how to say it, so you have to look.” Rody says, angling himself backwards in the bed. Legs spread, on display like the main course of a five star restaurant. Vincent nods again, gesturing towards Rody. Get on with it. Rody shakily unzips his pants, grabbing the waistband so hard his knuckles turn white. Then, in one fluid motion takes his pants off, flinging them on the ground. Vince chuckles at the theatrics of Rody’s motions and looks down at Rody's body.
“Rody, I’m gay. You know that.” He says, face blank.
“I know that!” Rody squacks, crossing his legs. “I’m- I am a man.”
“Are you trying to make a mockery of me?” Vincent laughs dryly. He takes a step back and glances at the door. He should just leave now. This is a fucking waste of time. “I will kill you before you have the chance to report me anywhere, Rody. You’re smart enough to know that.” His voice comes out quiet and angry all at the same time. It’s a different kind of angry then Rody’s used to hearing, though. It’s not the ‘yelling at a cook,’ or the ‘customer left a bad review’ kind of angry.
If Vince had ever acted like he was capable of seeming human, Rody would have thought he sounded hurt, betrayed. He knows better than to let himself think that, though.
“Vincent..” Rody frowns, moving up so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. “I am a man, it’s just.” He pauses, making a distressed noise and covering his face. “There’s other people like me, you know? I’m not the only one. Just because I- I’m not some freak.”
“Well, you are.” Vincent walks over and sits next to Rody on the couch, placing his hand on Rody’s thigh. It’s warm. “Just in a different way.”
Rody ignores him. “You liked me before because you thought I was a man, I still am just different.”
“I won’t erase myself for you.” Vincent frowns, crossing his arms. “You don’t know how hard I fought for this.”
“Same to you!” Rody groans, slapping his hand over Vincent’s. “Take your own advice.”
“Fair enough.” He shrugs, snatching his hand away. “I’ve only ever been with men..” Rody shoots Vincent a glare and he quickly keeps talking. “That are the same as me. I don’t know how to.. pleasure you, Rody.”
Rody’s face burns as he looks away from Vincent.
“Yep- that’s fine, Vince. You can learn at some point.” Rody groans, shifting his body closer to Vincent, their thighs touch.
“Show me.” Vincent nods downwards. “Touch yourself.”
“What? No?” Rody coughs, surprised. “That's weird.”
Vincent scowls. “No it’s not. It’s intimate.” He grabs Rody’s face, his fingers returning to the spaces where his nails left before. Listen. Rody goes to open his mouth, to protest again. Vincent holds on tighter. Rody listens.
He frowns, glancing away, face flushed as he spreads his legs once more. He places his hand flat against his stomach, eyes fluttering shut. His hand drags downwards, fingertips getting caught on the edge of his shirt for a moment. His hand stops below his navel and he looks at Vincent, eyes wide. Then, his hand goes down and his fingers dip into himself. He sighs lightly, mouth falling open. Vincent stares at him, eyes wide. Not at his face though, of course. Rody wants to tell Vincent to look at him. ‘If you don’t look at me I’ll stop.’ It’s at the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t that just defeat the whole purpose? He should’ve said no, told Vincent to just try himself, he’d get it eventually. This is humiliating.
The thought fades as Rody regains his focus. It feels good, he feels good. He hasn’t touched himself in.. awhile, with everything that’s happened. Vincent hasn’t let him have a moment alone. He lets his mouth open wider and chokes out a moan. Vincent shudders at the sound, his eyes flickering up to Rody’s face.
“Does that feel good?” Vincent asks, voice low and impossibly quiet.
“It does.” Rody breathes. “Have you ever touched yourself like this?”
Vincent’s face burns red. He frowns ever so slightly. “Like?”
“Have you ever fingered yourself?” Rody asks, trying to look Vincent in his eyes. He looks away. It’s quiet for a moment safe for Rody’s breathing. “Answer me or I’ll stop.”
“Why should I care if you stop?” Vincent asks, despite his words, he looks.
Rody moans, throwing his head back as his hand moves faster. “You like watching. Answer my question.”
“Once, long ago.” Vince finally looks at him again. “While I was still in school, college.”
“Did you like it?” He sounds breathless.
Vince’s voice comes out as less than a whisper. “I did.”
Rody stares into his eyes. “Would you let me do that to you?”
“I’d let you do a lot of things to me.” Vince mutters.
“Yeah?” Rody gasps. He needs to stop talking. “Like what?”
“I’d let you kill me. I’d teach you how to cook so you could eat me properly.” Vince pauses, thinking for a moment. His lips curve downwards. “Like I did to her.”
“God, Vince-“ Rody moans, he looks back at Vince. The entire room is hot, impossibly so. It’s uncomfortable.
“What?” He tilts his head to the side, confused.
“No, I’m ..” Rody inhales sharply and cuts himself off, not wanting to explain to Vince that he was moaning his name.. he hates this. His legs clamp together. “You don’t get people- do you? You don’t know anything other than how to cook.”
Vincent doesn’t respond. He just stares at Rody, eyes wide and face red, he’s breathing so hard his entire body moves with each breath. “You like that, huh?” Rody laughs hoarsely. “You like me telling you how shallow you are, don’t you?”
“Your legs.” Vincent looks downwards. “Open them again.”
“Say please.” Rody croaks out, he’s not looking at Vince anymore, his eyes are squeezed shut.
“Please, Rody.” Vincent gasps, running over his face. This is embarrassing. No one should see him act like this.
Rody moans at Vince’s plea, body shaking as he finishes, Vincent watches every movement, inhales every noise made. He makes no move to touch Rody, he doesn’t trust himself, not yet. He won’t do anything until he knows how to properly. Rody pulls his hand away, Vince stares. It’s.. wet. Strange. Rody looks towards Vince and moves forward, putting his fingers at the edge of lips.
“Open.” Rody whispers, breathless. Vince does, his lips feel dry as they part and Rody shoves his fingers into Vince’s mouth. Too fast, too hard. Vince gags and moves his head back, swatting Rody’s hand away.
“What is wrong with you?” Vince hisses. Rody laughs.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll be careful. Just.. come here.” He places his other hand on Vince’s cheek and puts his thumb into Vince’s mouth, holding it open. Then, carefully this time, Rody puts his fingers back into Vince’s mouth. “Clean it off.”
He does. His tongue runs along Rody’s fingers and Rody watches in awe, eyes wide. He shudders as he feels Vincent swallow around him. He pulls his hand away, wiping the spit off on the bedsheets.
“Good?” Rody murmurs, the faintest of smiles on his lips.
“I have no idea.” Vincent responds, blinking hard.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Rody asks, voice quiet. He sounds tired, looks tired. He looks like a mess, actually.. he could use a bath.
“No, that’s not necessary.” Vince waves him off, then stands up. “I’ll get you a towel to clean yourself, then you can go to sleep.”
“Just me?” Rody frowns. “Won’t you join?”
Vincent smiles thinly, smoothing his hand over Rody’s cheek before leaving the room.