Chapter Text
Herman slumped against the headboard of his bed, the dim glow of his laptop screen the only light in his room. It had been a week since that night with Robert, and he found himself growing restless. They’d shared more kisses since then, stolen moments in the break room at the dispatch office, but nothing like that night in Robert’s apartment.
He’d started watching these videos out of curiosity, mostly. After their night together, he’d wanted to learn more-- how to be better, how to make Robert make even more of those faces he’d never seen before. But tonight, one video in particular had caught him off guard.
The top was rough, pinning the bottom down, growling insults like “pathetic slut” and “worthless hole.” The bottom whimpered, begging for more, and something twisted hot in Herman’s gut. His cock twitched in his boxers, hardening as the scene played out. That’s… intense. But why does it feel a little good to watch?
He paused the video, breathing uneven, and leaned back. Since he’d been the one on top that night, he figured maybe this was what he wanted. To be the one in control, degrading Robert like that.
He closed his eyes, trying to picture it: himself looming over Robert’s body, gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. “You-- you’re such a-- a slut… for me-- my cock,” he’d say, slamming in rough. Robert’s face would flush, those freckles standing out as he moaned, begging Herman to go harder.
But the image felt wrong. His arousal faded a bit, cock softening against his thigh. No… that doesn’t fit. He’d probably laugh at me if I said that.
Frustrated, Herman shifted, water beading on his palms and dripping on the sheets. He wiped them off and rewound the video, watching the top sneer again, eyes drawn to the bottom’s desperate submission.
The thought hit him like a flood. What if he switched them? Robert as the top, his voice low and commanding, eyes sharp as he pinned Herman down. Herman’s breath hitched, his cock jumping back to full attention. He imagined it vividly: Robert shoving him face-down on the bed, one hand fisting Herman’s damp hair, yanking his head back.
“Look at you. So pathetic, leaking all over yourself just from this.” Robert’s cock would nudge against his entrance, stretching him open without mercy.
Herman’s hand slipped into his boxers on instinct, wrapping around his length, stroking slowly as the fantasy unfolded. Water slicked his palm, turning the glide messy, wet sounds filling the quiet room.
In his mind, Robert didn’t wait for permission. He’d press Herman’s face into the pillow, muffling his whimpers. “You’re nothing but a hole for me to use, aren’t you? Beg for it, you worthless little slut.”
Herman whimpered aloud, hips bucking into his fist, precum mixing with the constant seep from his skin. He stroked faster, thumb circling the head, imagining Robert’s scars pressing against his back, that rough voice degrading him further.
“That’s right, take it like the desperate slut you are. You love being filled, don’t you? Keep crying for more.” The words echoed in his mind, twisting shame into a heat that pooled deep in his stomach. His free hand twisted in the sheets, water soaking through as he pumped harder, chasing the edge.
Herman’s fantasy-Robert would reach around, wrapping a hand around Herman’s leaking cock, stroking roughly in time with his thrusts, thumb digging into the slit. “Cum for me, Herm. Be a good boy and show me how pathetic you really are.”
Herman gasped, body tensing, and spilled over his hand in hot pulses. Release shuddered through him like waves crashing.
Out of breath, he sagged sideways against the pillows, chest heaving. He looked down at the cum in his hand, sticky and mingled with water, pooling in his palm.
“Oh.”
He cleaned himself up with a wad of wet wipes before tossing them in the bin beside his bed. His face burned, eyes avoiding the mirror across the room. That was… I didn’t expect… Why did that feel so good?
It wasn’t just the roughness; it was the way Robert’s imagined voice had made him feel small, wanted in a twisted way. Safe, even, under that control. But Robert had been so gentle their first time, patient with Herman’s clumsiness. Would he even want something like this? Probably not. He’s not like that.
Sleep didn’t come easy. Herman tossed, mind replaying the fantasy in fragments until his body ached with leftover arousal. The clock ticked past midnight, then one, until finally, exhaustion dragged him into a restless sleep.