Redstone Ch. 14, Pt. 2, or I Can't Even

Gah, fuuuuck my inability to handle timing, but I just can’t tackle more plot tonight. Honest to goodness, I spent almost 2 hours skyping with my ficwife trying to work through the plot holes of my contemporary novel, which isn’t even due until February but guess who picked it for her NaNoWriMo story (hint: ME) and has a schedule to keep, FML. And it was super helpful, like talking with her always is, but now I have to tackle a really important part of Redstone and my brain. Just. Won’t.  It can’t even.

 

 

So here. Have a missing scene, aka the porn I was too tired to put in a few weeks ago, since I’m not too tired to handle anything plotty.

I mean, you could complain, but c’mon. Porn. Let me love you.

 

***

 

The bed in their apartment was tiny, barely big enough for the two of them to lie across shoulder to shoulder. They’d spent enough time in ships that they were used to tight quarters though, and Wyl’s predilection for using Robbie as a pillow made things easier. Now, however, Wyl wished it was a little wider, because he wanted to lay Robbie down on it and spread him out across the sheets and stroke his hands over every inch of his husband’s body before finally taking him into his mouth. There definitely wasn’t room for Robbie to spread out, and the sheets were the slick, scratchy kind and the mattress had long since last its elastic qualities, so dispersing his weight wouldn’t make him much more comfortable than he already was.

Still, undressing him was fun, if a little concerning. Robbie had been awake for over seventy hours at this point, not the longest time he’d ever gone without sleep, but certainly harder to handle when he had to be on edge that whole time, always looking over his back and checking to see who might be coming up to stab him in it. And that was when he wasn’t worrying about Wyl, which…no. Just no. Robbie didn’t need to know the details of what was coming. With luck, Wyl would manage the confrontation well enough that he could spend a minute or so in a tank to take care of superficial wounds and come out as good as new. It didn’t have to be a big, scary, dire thing. It didn’t have to worry Robbie any more than he was already worried.

Wyl stroked his hands through Robbie’s graying hair, then down his neck and over his shoulders as he kissed him. Robbie responded to the intent in Wyl’s kiss, the fervency in the press of their bodies, but his touch was gentle, clumsy and a little slow, like he was already half-asleep.

“No, babe, no,” Wyl chided him even as he pushed him back onto the bed. Robbie couldn’t stretch out, but just the act of his head hitting the pillowy part of the mattress seemed blissful to him, if the groan he made was any indication. “No sleeping yet, c’mon.”

“Act now or hold your peace until morning,” Robbie said, the sentence breaking on a yawn in the middle. He might be tired, but he was still hard, and so Wyl dispensed with the foreplay, stripped out of his own clothes in a rush and slid between his husband’s legs. Robbie unconsciously moved to accommodate him, letting him in close without a moment’s thought.

It still fucked with Wyl’s head sometimes, how close he’d come to never knowing Robbie this way. How near he’d come to losing him, not just back when they first met but over and over again, always pulling it out somehow in the eleventh hour. It was humbling, for someone who had come so near ruining his entire life, that Robbie trusted Wyl like this, in close, with everything he had. Wyl wouldn’t let him get hurt. He wouldn’t weigh him down any more than he had to.

“Wyl?” He almost jumped when the back of Robbie’s hand trailed down his cheek. When he looked up Robbie’s expression had gone from soft to serious. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” Wyl said, honestly enough. “I’m fantastic, actually, let me prove it to you.”

“I believe you, you don’t need to—oh, fuck.” Nothing like a well-timed deep throating to give his husband just the distraction he needed.

“Mmm, Wyl, fuck.” And it might be stupid, but Wyl loved that Robbie was a babbler, he loved that he opened up and let go more and more when they had sex. Robbie was so closed off so much of the time, stern, almost severe; it was an intense and private pleasure to see him lose control of himself in their room. If that pleasure happened to belong only to Wyl, so much the better.

Wyl kept his mouth soft on Robbie’s cock, his suction gentle. Robbie smelled like stale sweat, a clear sign he’d been in uniform too long, because those things kept you odor-free for at least sixty hours before you had to clean them. As soon as they were done with this, Wyl was going to book them onto a pleasure cruise and keep Robbie in bed for a week. He would fuck his husband in every configuration he could think of and some he would have to look up, he would take away his senses and gift him with new ones, he would edge him and toy with him and let Robbie possess him completely, and do whatever he wanted to him, but now…right now…this was perfect. Just what they both needed, intimate and quiet and close, Robbie was already so close, his breath hitching as Wyl rubbed the calloused pads of his fingers over Robbie’s perineum, stroking the tender skin and curling his thumb over his sac.

Robbie stiffened, went perfectly still, and finally came in long, slow bursts, like his body was simply too tired to fight that hard against the artificial gravity. Wyl swallowed at lapped at the head of Robbie’s cock for a moment, just enough to make Robbie start to curl from oversensitivity, then pulled off, reaching down to touch himself. He could stroke off fast, it would only take a moment—

“No, c’mere.” Robbie’s hands gripped Wyl’s shoulders, clumsily pulling him up Robbie’s body to lie flat against him, his hard cock pressed to Robbie’s still-slick, softening one. He wrapped his legs around the backs of Wyl’s calves and slowly pushed his hips up. “Like this.”

“Fuck,” Wyl said succinctly, because yeah, okay. This would be quick. He put his forehead down on Robbie’s shoulder and started to thrust, rutting hard and fast into Robbie’s groin, both of them sweaty now but it was fresh and clean, and Robbie moved just enough to give Wyl the friction he needed, just enough to make it easy to come all over his husband, arching his back and gasping despite himself.

“Mmm, babe.” Wyl finally lifted up his head to grin at Robbie, who was—

Passed out. Completely passed out, clinging to Wyl like a fucking barnacle out of long habit but so unconscious Wyl could already see his eyes swimming under their bruised lids.

Wyl sighed. So much for the afterglow. On the other hand, now that Robbie was sacked out and Wyl’s own nervous energy was finally spent, he could dedicate some time to fixing up the device he’d need to get to Tamara. He leaned forward and kissed Robbie gently on the lips. “I’ll just clean us up then,” he murmured, and gently picked his way out of his husband’s embrace, then headed for the bathroom.