Work Text:
Being an audio engineer for an erotic audio storytelling app was never something Michael Robinavitch ever thought he'd end up doing for a career. His life had never panned out exactly like he thought it would; his CV a mixture of odd jobs, moving around the country, and picking up skills here and there.
He'd worked on a few TV shows back in LA for a while, then got sucked into podcasting, which he hated, and then, when he found himself back home in Pittsburgh, a friend put him in touch with someone from the production team at PittLit, recommending him for a job opening.
He'd sent them some of his work, and the next thing he knew, he was being sent audio files of spicy scenes to edit and mix. He'd blushed the first time he'd listened to it, the woman's voice breathy and sultry as she described going down on her best friend. It didn't take long for him to ignore the subject of the audio and focus on the job. It all just becomes noise when you listen to it day in, day out.
It's not a bad job at all.
The work is easy, the pay isn't bad, he likes choosing his own hours, and while he's coy about the details of his job to anyone who asks, he's proud of the work he does. He's all for playing his small part in helping the app's listeners get off to the stories.
He normally has a few projects on the go at any one time, usually because he's waiting on feedback from the production team while he works on something else, so every day starts with checking his email to see what work he has waiting for him.
When he finally lowers himself down into the chair just after 9 am and opens his email inbox, there's a new file waiting for him, a newly recorded story titled 'My Medic Amour'. They all have slightly cringe names like that, and Robby shakes his head in amusement.
He imports the file over into his editing program, gulping down some of his coffee while the file loads. The program dings to let him know it's ready, and he clicks the play button without hesitation.
As soon as the audio plays, Robby's mouth falls open.
He doesn't get aroused by any of the audio he listens to and certainly isn't interested in any of the voice actors hired by PittLit. Their bread and butter is unknowns with sexy voices, just working actors looking for a paycheck and willing to get into an audio booth and simulate sex into a microphone, but occasionally they like to stunt-cast with minor celebrities that Robby's never heard of. There was one from a popular teen Netflix show and a couple from some Hockey drama Robby's only vaguely aware of.
What he does know about all of them is that they're all fresh and young and, according to his manager, extremely handsome. They're clearly what the audience demands, and that's fine. Having zero interest means he's the right person to edit the audio. He might as well be listening to an audiobook on how to watch paint dry.
But this voice, this man, he's different. Robby can tell he's older, more mature.
His finger hovers over the mouse, the cursor sitting right on top of the pause button.
He lets it play.
Through his headphones, he listens to the deep, slightly gruff voice right in his ears.
"You're doing so well…fuck, that's right, take all of me, you're so tight, so hot."
Fuck.
His trousers suddenly feel tight, his unexpected erection pressing against the fly of his jeans.
This is a first.
"I'm so deep inside of you, can you feel all of me? You're perfect…I'm going to fuck you now, and you're going to be good for me and take it all, okay?"
Jesus Fucking Christ.
He's thankful he works from home as he gives in to the desire deep in his belly. He flicks open the top button on his jeans, works the fly down carefully over the bulge, and, without hesitation, slips his hand under the elastic of his boxers to free his hard cock.
As he lets the audio track continue to play, he grips himself firmly and jacks off to the sound of the man cursing and moaning. Every soft breathy huff has him closer and closer to the edge, a coil tightening with each tight pump of his fist. Every time the voice praises his imagined partner, Robby imagines those words whispered into his ear, and he adds a swipe of his thumb across the slick purple tip of his cock.
"You feel so good…uh…yess…just like that…I'm so close…You drive me crazy…mmmm fuck."
It's not a slow build of pleasure. It hits him like a hurricane. He works his hot fist harder, grips himself tighter. He can't remember the last time he felt like this: Desperate, frenzied, hungry.
His skin buzzes, his chest tightens, and his eyes roll back into his head.
He comes hard over his keyboard.
Panting from exertion, he sags back in his chair, his limbs loose, and as his cock softens against his thigh, the voice continues to play.
"You're so beautiful like this…you came so fucking hard for me…bet you're so sensitive now, right? Yeah…don't worry, I'll get you ready to go again soon."
It goes on for another few minutes before Robby finally clicks the button to pause it. He stares at the streaks of come across his work station and wonders what the hell just happened.
He cleans himself up quickly, changing into fresh underwear and some sweats, then tackles the keyboard next, wiping all evidence of what had just happened away. As much as he'd like to pretend it hasn't happened, his eyes are drawn back to the screen where the audio still waits for him.
How the hell is he supposed to edit this?
He switches over to another project temporarily, a lesbian fantasy romance story that does absolutely nothing for him and ends up finishing it sooner than planned. He sends over his edited version to the production team, gets himself some lunch and then reopens, 'My Medic Amour'
He bites his lip as he presses play once more, hoping he's got it out of his system.
As soon as he hears that raspy voice demanding for the listener to undress, the same flush of heat fills his body once more.
"Fucking hell," he groans, pressing pause while the man's voice is mid-growl. He feels himself hardening in his pants again. He's fifty; he should not be this fucking horny.
Maybe if he just powers through, he thinks desperately. He has to finish this job. There's no way he can tell his manager that he can't complete the edit because the actor's voice keeps making him rock hard.
Gritting his teeth, he presses play again. He can do this.
"You going to let me get you off again?……yeah, just like that…..God you make me so hard, can you feel what you do to me? Wrap your whole hand around my hard dick…..mmm you hand feels so good…..slow…fuck yes."
Fuck it. He lifts his hips enough to push his sweats and boxers down, spits into his hand and starts pumping his cock for the second time that day. He can't remember the last time he masturbated this much.
"Can't wait to get inside you again…fuck you hard like you deserve, feeling you coming hard around me…"
It doesn't take much. His mouth drops open, and his eyes scrunch shut as he releases into his fist, managing to avoid more mess on his computer this time.
Cleaned up for the second time and with the high of endorphins still coursing through his body, he sends a quick update to his boss, letting them know the edit for 'My Medic Amour' will be a little late, blaming it on some technical issues.
He's always been prompt in sending back his work, so when he gets a response an hour later to tell him that it's not an issue and to keep them updated on progress, he relaxes.
For the rest of the evening, he can't help but replay his favourite sections over and over as he tries to picture the face that goes with the voice. He comes hard to the voice for a third time, leaving him depleted.
The next morning, he approaches his desk slowly, like it's a wild animal that might attack. He slips his headphones on, prays, and presses play.
The voice is still gravelly and demanding, and he feels a stirring of desire between his legs, but thankfully, he's able to keep listening without needing to rub one out first.
Still, as he does his best to concentrate on the work and not on the voice telling him to bend over and take it, he wonders if it would be weird for him to email his manager and ask for this guy's name, maybe see if he can look him up online.
As soon as he's finished work for the day, he closes his blinds, yanks his pants off, and replays the audio from the beginning, a bottle of lube now in reach.
A trip to Staples isn't Robby's ideal day out on his day off, but his office chair is falling apart, and he could really do with a new keyboard since coming all over it. There's only so much work he can do when the down arrow button keeps sticking.
He's down the furniture aisle, looking at the chair options, a new keyboard tucked under his arm, when he hears another voice in the same aisle.
"That's perfect, just what I need."
Robby freezes.
He knows that voice from somewhere; he swears he does.
A heavy groan fills the air, and the sound goes straight to his dick.
Looking around sharply, he spots a man a few feet away struggling to lift a heavy box onto a trolley, the staff member who had clearly shown him to the spot already long gone.
"Jesus," The man curses, and suddenly Robby realises where he knows the voice from.
It's him. It has to be right? This guy sounds exactly like the voice from 'My Medic Amour'. The voice he's rubbed one off to more times than he can count.
What are the odds?
Before his brain can catch up and stop him, he finds himself calling out, "Need any help?"
The man looks up, and Robby's breath catches in his throat. Of course, he's fucking hot. All cheekbones and piercing eyes and soft, greying curls that Robby wants to grab hold of and not let go. The man smiles at Robby, and Robby is gone.
He honestly forgets to breathe for a second.
"That would be great, actually, grab the other end?"
Robby does as he's told, and between them they get the box onto the trolley.
"Thanks," The man smiles at Robby again, and all Robby can think about is listening to the story again once he's home with the face to match the voice.
"Robby," he blurts out. "I'm Robby, well, Michael, but everyone calls me Robby."
Fuck, it really has been a long time if he can't even manage to introduce himself without babbling.
Pull yourself together, Robby.
"Jack, Jack Abbot," Jack replies easily.
"Well uh, Jack, you need any help getting this into your car?"
Jack seems surprised by the offer, "You sure?"
"Lead the way."
They're close to the checkout counter, and the store is empty enough that they're stepping outside just a few minutes later. He quickly deposits his new keyboard into the passenger seat of his car, then Jack points at a car a few rows back, and Robby follows him towards it. Together they lift the heavy box up into the trunk, Robby doing his best not to get hard from all the heavy exhales and grunting Jack does.
"Thanks for your help, I appreciate it, brother," Jack holds out his hand, and Robby slips his hand inside the open palm to shake it. Jack's hand is warm and calloused, and Robby can't help imagine it curled around his dick.
"No problem," he grits out, doing his best to think of unsexy thoughts instead.
As Jack pulls away, Robby realises if he doesn't say something now, he might never see Jack again, and that would be the biggest regret he's ever made.
"Do you want to get coffee with me?" He blurts out.
Jack looks relieved by the offer, like maybe he didn't want to regret anything either.
"When?"
"Now?" Robby suggests, "I mean, if you're not busy, there's a nice place just around the corner from here."
Jack smiles at him, "Sure, now's good."
Leaving their cars in the parking lot, Jack follows Robby down the block to the cafe he's been to a few times before. The weather is nice enough, finally, to sit outside, and Robby pays for their drinks and brings them to a table around the corner of the cafe where Jack is waiting for him.
He still can't quite believe this is happening.
Jack thanks him for the drink, and they talk a little about living in Pittsburgh, the weather and how spending any time in Staples on a Saturday must be punishment for something. Jack is funny and smiles softly at Robby's attempts at humour, and the way he focuses all his attention towards Robby while he speaks leaves a warm, tingly feeling across his shoulders and down his spine.
"Okay, so this is going to sound strange," Robby begins once he's plucked up enough courage. It's been hard. Sitting across from Jack Abbot for the last half hour, those eyes staring right back at him have been almost more than he could handle.
"Not sure I like where this is goin'," Jack murmurs against the rim of his coffee mug.
"Do you, perhaps, do some voice acting?"
Jack freezes.
It's now or never.
"Maybe…erotic audio stories?"
"Fuck," Jack swallows hard against the mouthful of coffee he took in at the wrong time. "How the hell could you possibly know that? My first one isn't even out yet."
Robby is right. Holy Fuck. It is him.
"I uh, I work for PittLit," Robby finally admits. "I'm an audio engineer, I do all the editing and mixing…I might have recognised your voice in Staples."
Jack smirks knowingly, "All the huffing and groaning?"
Robby feels his cheeks warm up. "Something like that."
"Shit man, what are the fucking odds?"
Robby has wondered that himself, "A million to one, I'm sure…how did you even get into this line of work?" He's curious to know.
Jack shrugs, "God I don't know…for a laugh, my sister-in-law submitted a tape without telling me, and the next thing I know I'm in a booth recording all these sucking and grunting sounds into a microphone."
Robby's brain comes to a screeching stop as soon as Jack says sister-in-law. His eyes snap down to Jack's hands, curled around the mug on the table, looking for a ring. Somehow, Jack seems to know exactly what he's looking for, and he sighs softly.
"My uh, my wife died a few years ago, I'm still close with her family."
"Oh…I'm sorry."
"Yeah, everyone always is," Jack replies, a weariness to his tone. "I love her, I did, but when she was dying she made me promise to move on, not let myself get caught up in the grief, and that's what I've been trying to do ever since."
"Has it worked?"
Jack shrugs, "Depends on the day, I guess."
"And today?" Robby finds himself asking, hopefully.
Jack smiles at him, "Today has been a good day."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"I uh, I still can't believe you recognised my voice in a fucking Staples."
Robby blushes, "It's a distinct voice, and well, I've heard it a lot."
"You have?"
Oh Fuck. Robby realises what he's just admitted to.
"Oh yeah, I mean, you have to listen to it a lot during the editing process," he explains, hoping it sounds plausible enough.
"How many times?"
"Hmm?"
Jack tilts his head to one side, and Robby feels Jack's foot nudging his under the table.
"You heard me."
"A few."
Jack hums, "Based on the fact that you can't look me in the eye right now tells me you not only listened to me more than a few times, you liked it."
"Fuck," Robby covers his blushing face with both hands, his fingers pressing against his eyes. "It's weird, right? Be honest, you can tell me."
"Weird?" Jack repeats, "I think it's kinda hot."
Shocked, Robby spreads his fingers so he can see through them. "Hot?"
Jack glances around quickly before returning his gaze to Robby. "Did you get off to the sound of my voice?" He asks, his voice low enough not to be overheard.
The rumble of his voice goes straight to Robby's cock, and he shifts in his seat. Jack notices too and grins like he's won a prize.
"Well?" Jack pushes.
Slowly, his hands slide away from his face. There's no point in pretending now.
He nods.
"More than once?"
Robby nods again.
"Holy Fuck, Robby…..tell me you live nearby."
What the…
"Seriously?"
Is Jack suggesting what he thinks he's suggesting?
"Want the 4D experience?"
Robby gulps.
As soon as Robby opens his front door, Jack is pushing him roughly across the threshold and slamming him against the nearest wall. Before he can say a word, Jack's lips are on his, hot and firm and demanding. There's nothing to do but to let Jack take what he wants, overwhelming every sense with his touch and taste and the sound of him moaning into Robby's mouth.
Jack's hands slide up Robby's chest, then dip down and around, his fingers splaying out across the small of Robby's back to pull his hips in closer.
Robby gasps into Jack's mouth, his hand sliding up into Jack's hair, cupping the back of his head to hold him in place. Robby doesn't care about the lack of oxygen, not when Jack is doing something with his tongue and his hands are sliding down to cup his ass.
He really doesn't want to stop, but there's no way they can do all he wants to do to Jack whilst standing in his entrance hall. The bedroom feels far away, but it's the only flat surface with lube and condoms within easy reach.
"Bedroom," he says against Jack's lips.
Jack pulls back suddenly, "Hey, before we-"
"Why have you stopped?" Robby asks a little desperately.
"There's something you should know…about me."
Robby tries to focus through the fog of desire, "Okay?"
"I'm an amputee."
Robby blinks, "You still have a dick, though, right?"
Jack grabs Robby's hand and presses it to the healthy bulge in his trousers, "What the fuck do you think?"
Robby groans, "Then what's the problem?"
"Some people get funny about it."
"Some people fucking suck, now can we stop talking and get naked already?"
Jack laughs, his shoulders dropping with relief, "Yes, yes, we can."
Once that's out of the way, Jack seems happy to be led to the bedroom. Robby's jacket is thrown somewhere along the way, and as soon as they enter the bedroom, Robby slips his fingers underneath Jack's t-shirt and starts pulling it up.
His thudding pulse jumps when the shirt is lifted off, and he's greeted with a broad chest, defined pecs and a happy trail that he's desperate to follow. Jack is way out of his league, he thinks as he leans in and leaves kisses across Jack's collarbone.
"Your turn," Jack says as he grabs at the hem of Robby's shirt.
Reluctantly, Robby pulls away just enough to help Jack lift his shirt up and off.
"I spend a lot of time at a desk," he tries to explain. While he's not unfit, he certainly doesn't have the abs that Jack is currently flaunting.
"Did you hear me complaining?" Jack growls back, sinking back into Robby's personal space.
They make out for a moment, long, languid, wet kisses, while they both explore newly exposed skin. Robby's fingers find a scar on Jack's hip, and Jack shivers against him as he traces it softly.
"Take your pants off," Jack grunts against Robby's lips.
The order somehow makes him even harder, and his hips jerk involuntarily into Jack's.
"Oh," Jack's eyes widen with realisation. "Is that what you liked? Me barking out orders?"
Robby's brain is mostly static, and so all he can manage is a nod.
Jack looks far too happy in response.
"Well? Are you going to do as you're told?"
Jack's voice cuts through the noise, and without hesitation, he reaches in between them and unbuckles his belt. He can feel Jack's eyes watching every move he makes as he finds the button on his jeans next, flicking it open and drawing the fly all the way down. Finally, he pushes both the denim and his boxers down. Gravity takes over, and they fall around his ankles. There's still the matter of his shoes and socks to deal with, and there's no sexy way to handle those. He toes his shoes off one at a time, then he's finally able to kick his jeans free.
"Sit," Jack orders, and Robby once again does as he's told without argument, lowering himself down onto the edge of the bed.
He uses the sitting position to quickly yank off his socks moments before Jack is undoing his pants and releasing his cock. Robby's mouth waters at the sight, his cock thicker than Robby's, and a groan leaves his mouth as he thinks about it pushing inside him. It's been far too long since he's had another man in his bed, so he knows the stretch will be a lot, but fuck, he wants it.
Jack doesn't need to bark out another order; Robby knows exactly what he wants because he wants the same thing. He curls his hands around the back of Jack's thighs, pulls him in close and doesn't waste a second before he's swallowing Jack down as far as possible.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Jack curses loudly.
His hands slide into Robby's hair, encouraging Robby up and down his dick. Robby sucks and swallows around the thick cock almost to the point of choking. Everything in his head goes silent as he lets Jack control the speed and the depth. Jack fucks into Robby's mouth, pushing past his gag reflex again and again. As he takes everything Jack gives him, he lets go of Jack's thigh and tries to reach down in between his legs to bring some relief to his hot, desperate cock.
"Uh-uh," Jack clocks him immediately. "No touching."
Reluctantly, Robby does as he's told, letting go of himself and returning his focus to Jack's cock. Jack thrusts his cock into Robby's mouth a couple more times before he steps back completely. Robby's eyes narrow in on the hunk of spit that drips down from the head of Jack's cock, and he licks his swollen lips. Now he's had a taste, it's all Robby craves.
"Get on your hands and knees," Jack instructs, firm but calmly. He's too calm, Robby thinks. How is he not just as affected as Robby is?
Still, Robby shuffles back onto the bed, twisting his body around until he's pressing his knees into the covers, and then he lowers his hands down by the pillows, facing away from Jack.
"Don't move."
Robby stays perfectly still, a chill sliding down his spine as he listens to the sound of rustling. He feels the edge of the bed dip, and then there are more sounds that Robby doesn't recognise, and he can only guess that Jack is removing his prosthesis.
"Supplies?"
"Top drawer beside you," Robby answers quickly, and he listens patiently to the sound of Jack rummaging around in the top nightstand drawer for lube and condoms.
Jack finds both fairly promptly, and then Robby feels the bed shift again. A hand presses against his coccyx before sliding agonisingly slow up his spine and back down again.
"I…it's been a while," Robby admits quietly.
The hand pauses mid-stroke.
"How long is a while?"
Robby winces, hoping this isn't a dealbreaker for Jack.
"A year," he answers honestly.
The guy hadn't even been a very good fuck. After a very average first date, Robby had been desperate enough for sex that he'd brought James up to his apartment. His date had barely pushed his cock inside Robby before he was coming, leaving Robby far from satisfied.
Instead of pulling away, Jack just groans under his breath. "Going to take my time with you," he promises. "Get you begging for my cock."
Robby whimpers.
For a moment, if he closes his eyes, it's like he's back at his desk, listening to that voice for the first time, feeling the growls in his chest. And then he opens his eyes, feels Jack's hot hand on his back, and realises he doesn't have to imagine, he's got the real fucking thing in his bed. The thought drives him insane.
He expects Jack to just get right on with prepping him, but instead of fingers, Robby feels the gentle press of lips against one ass cheek. Jack presses a trail of kisses across both cheeks. The kisses are so soft, it sends a shiver up his back. The gentleness unwinds the tension in his chest and unprepares him for the sensation of Jack spreading his cheeks suddenly and licking a stripe across his hole.
He almost chokes on his spit. "Oh fuck."
There's nothing for Robby to do but take what Jack gives him. Every lick, every press of his tongue against the tight ring of muscle has him gasping and cursing. His arms tremble as he fights to keep himself upright.
He begs for more.
"Please," he gasps out weakly.
Jack pulls back to reply, "Tell me what you want, Robby, and I'll give it to you."
It's a promise. Jack is still practically a stranger, and yet Robby feels the connection between them.
"I need you inside me."
Jack hums in response and licks against his hole once more, making Robby jerk his hips.
Robby sighs in relief when he hears the bottle of lube being opened and the crude sound of the liquid being squeezed out. A moment later, there's a cool, wet finger pushing between his cheeks and finding his hole like a heat-seeking missile.
Jack's finger pushes in slowly, breaching the muscle smoothly and not stopping until it's as far in as he can go.
"Jesus Christ, you're tight…and so fucking hot."
"More," Robby requests.
"You're not in charge here, remember?" Jack punctuates his question by sliding his finger out and pushing it back in firmly. Just to remind Robby, Jack fucks his finger in and out of him for what feels like forever, purposefully avoiding his prostate the entire time.
When he's sure Jack was put on this earth to torture him, Jack finally presses a second finger inside him, stretching him a little wider. He curses under his breath at being breached so confidently, so skillfully.
Jack plays with him for a little while, scissoring him with two fingers briefly, dropping back down to one finger, then back to two and then suddenly there are three pushing in. Jack's fingers are thick and long, and it's definitely more than he's taken in a while, and he feels the pressure and the slight burn. He bites his lip and takes it, just like he knows Jack wants him to.
"You ready for me?"
"Please," Robby says between gritted teeth.
He feels a hand slide up his back again; this time, it pushes down between his shoulder blades.
"Keep your ass up," he's told, and he lets Jack push his face down into the pillow, arms tucked underneath. Jack pushes his knees apart too, and Robby feels open in this position, exposed. There's no leverage either, so all he'll be able to do is take what Jack gives him.
He listens to the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped open, and then it goes quiet behind him briefly, the anticipation for what was to come only growing as he waits as patiently as possible. Finally, a hand curls around his hip as he feels the blunt head of Jack's cock against his ass. Jack slowly guides it between his cheeks and slides it over his slick hole, teasing him.
"Jack."
"Be patient," Jack responds with a squeeze of his hip.
Robby worries that Jack will pull away, punishing him with even more teasing, but instead, he feels the tip of Jack's cock find his hole and begin to press against the tight ring.
"I know what you need," Jack reassures him.
His mouth falls open as Jack's cock begins to stretch him wide, wider than his fingers. It's almost too much. There's a small pop as his head fully breaches him, and then he continues to advance forward until all Robby can feel is the tight pressure of being filled completely.
"You're doing so well," Jack praises him softly. "You're taking me so well,"
How much more could there be? Robby's not sure he's ever felt this full before, felt someone so deep inside him and still has more to go. The stretch burns just the right amount.
A minute later, he feels Jack stop moving, feels Jack's balls press against his ass.
"Can you feel all of me?" Jack asks, "I'm so fucking deep."
"Can feel you in my fucking throat," Robby mumbles into the pillow.
He's not sure Jack heard him at first, but then he feels Jack shift inside as he presses himself against Robby's back. A hand slides across the wide expanse of his throat, curling around him like he's trying to feel what Robby feels. It's gentle, Jack doesn't squeeze, yet it feels like Jack has stolen the air from his lungs.
Jack rears back up, drawing a whimper out of Robby as Jack's hand slides away and shifts inside him once more. He feels Jack's hands back on his waist, gripping him tightly, and then he speaks.
"I'm going to fuck you now…fuck you hard like you deserve, and you're going to be good for me and take it all."
Robby recognises those words almost immediately. He lets out a giddy laugh. Of course, Jack is re-creating My Medic Amour for him. He feels like he won a prize he didn't even know he was competing for. Either that or he did something so good in a past life that karma is on his side.
Robby gasps as Jack withdraws almost all the way out in one swift motion. He doesn't give Robby any time to get used to the empty feeling before he's thrusting back in again, somehow feeling impossibly deeper.
Every time Robby thinks he has Jack figured out, the game changes. Jack starts by fucking him slow and deep, but as soon as Robby's breath hitches from the pleasure, Jack stops completely inside him and grinds torturously slowly. When it feels like too much, Jack starts fucking him fast, his hips working overtime as he drives in and out of Robby at full speed. Sometimes he purposefully hits Robby's prostate, and then he'll go out of his way to avoid it.
Every drive in punches the air from his lungs, and his whole body flushes hot, sweat dripping down his spine. He matches every grunt and groan from Jack with one of his own, a perfect accompaniment to the sounds of skin slapping skin and the bed squeaking under the strain.
Somehow, even though he's pushing himself to the very edge of exertion, Jack doesn't stop talking, doesn't stop praising how well Robby takes him.
"You feel so good….uh…yess…..just like that…..…mmmm fuck."
As much as Robby is enjoying the feeling of Jack fucking him hard, it's his voice that pushes him closer and closer to the edge.
"Jack," Robby croaks out, mouth dry, eyes scrunched shut. "I'm close."
The pleasure builds in his gut, his cock, hanging heavy between his legs, throbs, desperate for release.
"Can you do it?" Can you come untouched?" Jack asks breathily, his hands yanking Robby back onto his cock every time he pulls out.
Robby shakes his head. "I need-"
He can't get the words out, but Jack seems to know what he's asking for. His thrusts slow just a little, and suddenly there's a hand snaking around his waist and down, curling around his cock. His hand is hot, almost too hot. The burn is good, though, as Jack jacks him firmly.
"Fuck!" Robby cries out, probably loud enough for his neighbours to hear.
His body goes rigid moments before he comes. It hits him like a train, a shockwave of pleasure and relief racing down to his toes and up to his fingers.
He's still feeling the effects of the orgasm when Jack jerks against him and comes inside him. His fingers press so deeply into Robby's skin that there will be bruises in the morning.
Robby breathes heavily as Jack sags over him, pressing him down into the bed. Somehow, Robby manages to spread his legs out whilst keeping Jack's softening cock from slipping out. He hates that empty feeling right after sex and hopes to prolong it for as long as possible.
Jack lets out a soft, amused huff against Robby's back, the puff of air hot against his sweat-slick skin.
"Holy fucking hell," Jack slurs.
Robby grins in response, and as they lie there recovering, he feels his racing pulse begin to return to normal. Finally, he reaches back, taps Jack on the ass, and he carefully pulls out.
Robby grabs some tissues from the nightstand and hands them over to Jack, who cleans himself up and disposes of the condom. They need to shower and change the sheets, but that can wait. Jack snakes his arm around Robby's waist and pulls them together tightly. They fall asleep like that and wake up a couple of hours later, sticky and aching.
Robby offers Jack the shower first, but Jack just drags him into the bathroom. The shower isn't designed for two, but without support handles, Jack seems to appreciate the back against his chest and the hands on his waist holding him upright.
When they're out and dried, Robby waits for Jack to tell him it's been fun, but the fun has to end at some point. He waits for Jack to reattach his leg, pull on his clothes, drop a quick kiss on his lips and stroll out like it didn't mean as much to him as it did to Robby.
He doesn't expect Jack to suggest a nearby restaurant for dinner. He doesn't expect Jack to reach over on the walk to the restaurant to hold his hand. He doesn't expect Jack to follow him home again afterwards for round two.
They talk for hours in the rumpled sheets, finding things they have in common, learning about each other's quirks and interests. Jack makes him laugh, listens to his stories intently, and presses a comforting hand on his waist when the stories become vulnerable.
He stops expecting Jack to walk out the door and relaxes into Jack's arms, looking forward to waking up with him in the morning.
He's only sat at his desk for maybe five minutes before his manager calls him.
"Everything okay?" He asks as soon as greetings are out of the way. It's not unusual for Yolanda to call him, but it's not common either.
"All good," she reassures him, "Just wanted to go through some of the feedback for My Medic Amour, thanks for sending over your edits by the way, but it's getting complicated on this end, so thought it was easier to try and do it over the phone."
"Oh, yeah, sure."
He spends the next ten minutes talking through the feedback with Yolanda, jotting down anything that he needs to remember and talking through possible edit variations until she's happy with the next steps.
"Did you like him, by the way?"
"Hmm?"
Of course, she asks as Jack pads out of his bedroom in a pair of borrowed boxers and not much else. His hair is all mussed up from sex, and there's an imprint on his bicep that perfectly matches Robby's teeth.
Jesus Christ.
"The new voice actor, what did you think?"
"The new voice actor?" Robby tries to pay attention, but Jack has clocked him and changed direction. Without skipping a beat, he comes to a stop in front of Robby and, with dark eyes locked onto Robby's, he slowly sinks down onto his knees.
"Robby, you there?" Yolanda reminds him he's still on the phone.
"Uh, yeah, the new guy."
"His name's Jack Abbot, the bosses want to appeal to an older audience, he's an absolute silver fox."
Robby looks down at the soft silvering curls now pushed in between his legs. He feels Jack pull at his sweats, and before he can blink, there's a hot mouth around his hardening cock.
"Silver fox, huh."
Jack seems to sense they're talking about him, and he feels Jack's lips tighten around him.
"So, I know you don't care much about it usually, but if you did have feedback, it would be useful."
"I-" He cuts himself off, biting his lip when Jack begins to bob his head up and down slowly. He slides his fingers through Jack's hair, encouraging him on, "I think he's got a great mouth."
Jack slaps his thigh.
"Voice!" He quickly corrects, "He's got a great voice."