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“You really leaving right now?” Jack asked after the shift from hell finally ended.
It was past ten. At war in Robby’s body were his exhaustion and the day’s lingering adrenaline, a fine pairing of drooping eyelids and bouncing knees. If he didn’t eat something real, he’d puke.
“Hell no,” he said. “I’m gonna murder a pizza and then I’m passing the fuck out.”
Jack grunted, falling into step beside him.
“Get two,” he said. “And wings. Gimme like an hour.”
Robby didn’t have it in him to muster up any irritation. His mouth split into a grin without his say-so.
“Oh yeah? And who invited you?”
Robby could always feel it when Jack eyed him in that particular way he had, where he dredged up the muck of your soul, looked it in the face, and didn’t flinch. He felt Jack’s gaze slide over him and refused to look anywhere but at the plodding of his footsteps toward the Bonneville.
The Bonneville, which was on its side in the ambulance bay.
“Fuck,” Robby said. “Fuck!”
Jack helped him right it, and Robby made the mistake of meeting his eyes over the seat. He was smirking.
“You could at least pretend you don’t fucking love this,” he said.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Jack said. “You can have it towed in the morning.”
“It might be fine,” Robby said. Its mirrors were bent to hell and the tail pipe was totally fucked, but. Maybe.
“And it might be a fucking mess,” Jack said. “You’re not crossing the country on that thing without getting it fixed up. Come on. Like you need to be riding it right now anyway, Jesus Christ.”
Robby was coming apart at the seams. He couldn’t think about this. He couldn’t think about anything.
“Let’s just go,” he said.
Jack drove him home but didn’t come inside.
“I thought you were forcing your friendship on me tonight,” Robby said.
“I gotta pick something up first,” Jack said. “If the food beats me here, don’t wait.”
The food did beat him, and despite the manners his bubbe had raised him with, Robby had half a dozen wings and two slices of pizza down his gullet before his doorbell rang again. He frowned. Jack had a key, and Robby had left the door unlocked anyway.
He opened the door with a joke ready to trip out of his mouth only for all his brainpower to evaporate in an instant.
Jack was leaning in the doorjamb in a forest green and burgundy skirt suit with gold trim, complete with a cap on his head set at a jaunty angle. The top was a little too small, so his stupid jacked arms were busting out of the short sleeves. The skirt rode up over his knees to reveal freckled thighs and a dusting of hair rendered golden by Robby’s porch light. His flesh and blood ankle was crossed over his metal one, and he was slanting a shit-eating smirk at Robby.
“What the fuuuuck,” Robby’s mouth let out, independent of his brain.
“Can I interest you in flying Abbot Air?”
“Jesus fuck, get in here.”
Jack unfurled like a brawny flower in bloom and sauntered into Robby’s house. Robby stared after him in awe, eyes caught on the way his ass filled out the pencil skirt like a perfect peach. The material was stiff and unforgiving, the cut boxy, and still Jack managed to make it look good. He made everything look good. Robby would be infuriated if there were enough blood in his brain for higher order thinking.
Jack had him pressed up against the wall with an economy of movement that Robby envied. Jack was smaller than him but stronger, more solid. The effortlessness with which he was able to throw Robby around never failed to send licks of fire through Robby’s veins. Robby gasped, opening his mouth for Jack’s kiss, but Jack stopped short. Robby could feel the heat of his mouth, hovering over his own.
“Special perks for mile high club members,” he said.
“How do you even have this thing?” Robby asked. He leaned forward only for Jack to lean back, just out of reach. He might have whined, low in his throat.
“Classified,” Jack said.
“You can’t just say classified for every—”
Jack kissed him like it was a competition, like he was outrunning the devil, like he was Captain Jack fucking Abbot of the US Army Medical Corps. Robby wrenched his wrist out of Jack’s grip to lock his fingers in his hair, to tip him back and kiss him as hard and deep as he needed. Jack’s knees buckled and he let out a high whine as soon as Robby tugged on his hair. Robby grinned into the kiss and shoved his thigh between Jack’s legs to keep him upright. He grabbed two handfuls of ass and hauled Jack against him. Their cocks, straining behind so many layers, bumped against each other and sent ricochets of electricity up Robby’s spine.
Robby growled into Jack’s mouth and hefted him off the ground to stumble toward the bedroom. Jack grunted and tried to get purchase, but Robby only lifted him higher, carried him farther. Ignored the twinge in his back. He reached for the valve on Jack’s prosthesis and released it. The leg went clattering to the floor as they crossed the threshold into Robby’s room.
“You’re such an asshole,” Jack said into Robby’s mouth.
“You fucking love it,” Robby said.
He threw Jack face first into the bedding, which earned him both bitter invective and wanton invitation in the form of Jack arching his back and spreading his legs. His ass strained the seams of the skirt, round and firm and begging for Robby’s attention. Robby swept his hands over Jack’s legs, peeled the liner off the right one, and followed the map of freckles under the skirt until he reached the edge of Jack’s underwear.
The lacy edge of Jack’s underwear.
“Holy shit, what are you wearing?”
Robby pushed the skirt up just enough to reveal Jack in lace panties, forest green to match the uniform. Robby stopped breathing when he realized the lace was hiding a buttplug nestled between Jack’s cheeks.
“Oh my fucking God, Jack.”
Jack tilted his hips up and waved his ass.
“Are you gonna take advantage of Abbot Air’s excellent customer service or what?” he said.
“I think we both know no airline has excellent customer service, brother. Or is it sister tonight?”
Jack muffled a giggle in the sheets. Robby bit the underside of Jack’s asscheek and ventured a tap against the base of the plug while he was at it. Jack moaned and pushed into the contact.
“You like that?” Robby asked.
“Come the fuck on,” Jack said.
Robby passed a hand over the lace. Softness and muscle and heat met his palm. Jack was quivering beneath him. Robby smacked him where his ass was thickest, fingers catching on the plug. Jack shouted into the bedding as he rocked forward, only to arch back into Robby’s touch. Robby slapped him again and again, until the green lace was popping against livid pink, until his own hand was smarting, until his cock was ready to drill a hole in the mattress.
He walked his knees under Jack’s body until Jack’s ass was in his lap. He pushed the panties aside to reveal the base of the buttplug. He tugged at it a little and Jack let out a high, pained whine. He tried to hump back but Robby stilled him.
“Be a good girl now,” he said.
“Oh fuck you,” Jack said. The effect was entirely ruined by the way he was moaning and clutching the sheets.
Robby pulled the thickest part of the plug out, savoring the way Jack’s pretty pink hole stretched around it, slick and stubborn and wanting. He plunged it back in and was rewarded with a shout. He pumped it in and out until Jack’s hole grew slack and pliant, until he was writhing in Robby’s lap. He was making the most delicious noises, as if the pleasure was so acute it became painful. His body flexed and rippled and strained before him, a feast for his eyes. As much as he wanted to keep torturing Jack, who had been torturing him all goddamn day, his own control was frayed and he was so, so tired of everything: his job, his house, his life, but most of all not being inside Jack right this second.
He yanked the plug out and tossed it toward the headboard. He moved to pull Jack’s panties off but Jack reached back and grabbed his wrist.
“Fuck me with my clothes on,” he said in a voice rough as gravel.
Arousal spiked white-hot behind Robby’s eyes. He pressed his face into Jack’s back and swore.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered.
“Stop fucking around and give it to me, Rob.”
Robby rolled a condom on and slicked himself up.
“This is terrible customer service,” he said.
“I swear I will put you in the upright and locked—ah!”
Robby pushed inside in one fluid thrust and then stilled, tamping his eyes shut as tight heat and smooth muscle squeezed rhythmically around him. Jack reared up and pushed himself down hard on Robby’s cock, head thrown back on Robby’s shoulder. Robby locked his arms tight around him and ground his hips up into his ass.
“Now there’s a curve you like, huh?” he said. “Not too good for that one, are you?”
Jack huffed out a laugh that fluttered around Robby’s dick.
“Don’t know how to tell you this, brother, but what you’re packing doesn’t help anyone breathe.”
Robby pushed Jack down and tangled up his hair in hand again. Jack whimpered and went boneless, only to arch up and gasp when Robby slammed back inside. He started with hard, slow thrusts, Jack pinned and squirming beneath him. The lace panties bunched to the side to show off a single creamy mound of ass framed by the skirt, now rucked up around Jack’s hips and hopelessly askew. Robby wished he could somehow contort himself to suck on Jack’s asscheek and fuck him at the same time, but he was about thirty years too late and half a foot too tall.
Robby picked up the pace until Jack’s wailing and swearing was loud enough to reverberate between the walls. He fucked Jack in quick, rolling snaps of his hips while sweat flew off him and landed in fat drops on Jack’s uniform. He had a fistful of hair in one hand and one of Jack’s wrists in the other, but the moment his rhythm faltered, Jack found a way to buck him off and tip him over. Before Robby even knew what was happening, he was on his back while Jack straddled him and sank back down on his cock with a pained groan. Jack shoved Robby’s t-shirt up over his chest, gripped him by the chest hair, and rode Robby’s dick with his head thrown back and his mouth open, his hair dark with sweat, his face and neck as red as Robby’s felt.
Robby scrambled to hike the skirt up around Jack’s waist. His cock was a thick protrusion still trapped behind green lace. It was slick and dark where he was leaking, and Robby needed to see it, need to pump it, needed to point it at his mouth when Jack started coming. He tried to pull the waistband of the panties down, but Jack’s smacked his hand away.
“Leave it,” he said.
“But I—”
“I’ll stuff these panties in your mouth after I come if you shut the fuck up and fuck me right now.”
Robby’s jaw snapped shut. He grabbed Jack around the hips, found his rhythm, and helped him slam his body on Robby’s cock like waves against a cliff. Jack started thrashing and moaning and squeezing around Robby, hands convulsive in Robby’s chest hair. Robby’s own eyes wanted to roll back but he forced himself to look at Jack’s face, his arms, the damp insistent column of his hidden cock.
Jack’s hips stuttered and he lost his voice. He trembled around Robby, threw his head back in a choked off scream, and then his cock was jerking and come oozed out of the sheer fabric in thick spurts.
“Oh my fucking God,” Robby gasped. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Jack was slowing down, but he was still rocking on top of him as his body quaked through the aftershocks, strangling Robby’s cock all the while.
Robby was so close when Jack dismounted and shimmied the panties off, he almost cried at the loss. But Jack got right back on him with a sigh as if having Robby’s cock in him was a great relief. As promised, he shoved the soiled lace into Robby’s mouth and Robby was overwhelmed with the taste, the feeling, the smell of Jack’s pleasure.
Stars burst behind Robby’s eyes. His scream was muffled but his rapture spiked and he was coming so hard it drove his breath from his lungs, his thoughts from his head, his soul from his body. He was ecstasy incarnate, soaring into the stratosphere.
When he crashed back into himself, Jack’s face was mashed into his armpit, and he had an arm thrown across Robby’s chest. The uniform top was gone but the skirt was still rucked up over his stomach. Robby plucked the panties out of his mouth.
“You gonna tell me why you even had that in the vault?” Robby asked.
“Just to bother you, obviously.”
“Got anything else in your bag of tricks?” Robby asked. “Maid’s outfit? Postal worker?”
“Let a girl keep her secrets, man,” Jack mumbled into his skin.
Robby let his head fall to the side. His lips landed in Jack’s hair. He wanted to reach out, to trace the freckles on Jack’s arm with his fingertips. He settled for draping his other arm over Jack’s shoulder.
“Been a long time, man.”
“Yeah, well. Couldn’t let you go without a proper send off.”
“Is that what that was.”
Jack got up and leaned forward far enough to pull out Robby’s dresser drawers. He grabbed a t-shirt and put it on.
“Jack.”
He levered himself up and hopped over to where his prosthesis lay on the ground, hand steady on walls and furniture. He was as unselfconscious as ever when he bent over to get it, lube glistening between his cheeks. Robby sat up and tossed him the liner. He caught it in one hand without even looking at him.
“You could stay,” Robby said.
Jack stilled. He turned enough that Robby could see his face in profile.
“Would you stay? If I asked?”
Robby couldn’t speak. Jack nodded. He got his leg on and kept rummaging through Robby drawers until he had boxers on and an old pair of sweats that actually fit him.
“I’m gonna get cleaned up and eat some of that pizza,” Jack said. “Sleep or join me, whatever you want. I can let myself out.”
“It’s just a few months, man,” Robby said. “It’s like your people say, right? ‘Put on your own oxygen mask first before helping anyone else with theirs.’”
Jack scrubbed his hands through his hair.
“Wish I could believe you were putting one on at all, brother.”
“This metaphor is getting labored.”
“Only when I say something you don’t wanna hear.”
“I already promised to wear a helmet. For real this time. What more do you want from me?”
“Do you hear how that might not be the most reassuring thing you’ve ever said?”
“Jack.”
Jack closed his eyes and rolled his neck out. He came back to Robby’s bedside and took his face in his hands without any pussyfooting, no gentle touch. He tipped Robby’s head up, chin to stomach, and forced Robby to meet his eyes.
“I want you to come back to us, Robby,” he said. “I want you to come back to me.”
Heat cracked over Robby’s head and spread down through his chest. Once, a long time ago, a young Jack Abbot had leaned into Robby in the corner booth of a certain kind of bar and said, it’s no big deal, just buddies blowing off some steam, and that’s what they’d done on and off for the next couple decades. Robby had learned to turn off the part of himself that wanted more from Jack, and it turned out doing that turned off the entire mechanism, no matter whose direction it was pointed in. Robby had finally accepted this about himself, and now Jack was undoing him all over again.
“Come with me,” he blurted.
Something glinted behind Jack’s eyes. Heat, maybe, or danger. Something that had Robby’s balls sparking like he was twenty-five again. Jack’s lips quirked up.
“Maybe Abbot Air could make a few stops at some national parks,” he said.
Robby wound his arms around Jack’s hips and pulled him down into his lap.
“State parks are also good,” he said.
“I suppose the customer is always right,” Jack said.
“I’ll be sure to leave a glowing review.”
This time when Jack kissed him, it was unlike any kiss they’d had before, those preludes to sex. This time Jack kissed him soft and slow. The competition had been won, the devil had been beaten, Captain Abbot had retired. Jack kissed him like he had all the time in the world.
End