update to dragonverse (pern/bandom au) (11/?)
Title: Ficlet : Spencer and Bob
Rating: Intended for an Adult Audience (adult language, explicit sexual themes)
Fandom: Bandom/Dragonriders of Pern crossover (posted for bandom_pern)
Pairing: Bob/Spencer
Warnings: None (mention of injuries/scars)
Words: 3500-ish
Summary: And then, there they were, back in Bob's room.
Previous Ficlets in the Series: 1. Bob, 2. Spencer, 3. Brendon, 4. Brian, 5. Bob Again, 6. Greta, 7. Spencer Again, 8. Miloth, 9. Bob Once More, 10. Brendon Visits.
Spencer and Bob
Spencer could see Dylanth’s silhouette blocking the lights that were just starting to shine around the Gather. Miloth let out a bugle of farewell. The shape hovered in the air for a moment and then was gone, taking Brendon and Shane back to the Weyr.
He turned without speaking to follow Bryar - Bob - up the stone steps and into the Crafthall.
Bob was just standing there, a few steps up from him, with an unreadable expression on his face.
“You okay? Wish you could go back with them? Or, you know... wish that Brendon was staying?”
Spencer stared at Bob for a moment. He wondered if it was possible that he'd been misreading Bob's signals all day. They’d spent the afternoon wandering around the Gather, joking with Brendon and Shane, and avoiding anyone who knew Bob.
It had become a bit of a challenge for Spencer to get Bob to unravel a little. Brendon had really helped with that, poking fun at his fierce reputation and promising to tell the entire weyr that he had made Bob Bryar actually laugh. (“Hate to tell you this, dude, but you are really not that scary.”)
Spencer had been aware of the warmth of Bob’s arm close to his, occasionally brushing against him, making him shiver and hope that Bob was as interested in getting the hell back up to the crafthall as he was. In the back of his mind, Spencer could feel Miloth basking in the attention she was receiving from Dylanth, adding to the rising tide of want swirling around inside his chest. He wondered if Bob felt it, too.
He'd caught lots of sideways looks as he'd stretched or pushed the hair back off his face. There had even been a moment when they had caught each other's glance before Bob had run his eyes slowly down from Spencer's lips to his legs and then back up again. It was nice to know that it wasn't just his dragon that Bob was interested in.
Yeah... he was pretty sure that Bob wanted this. Spencer was absolutely certain that he did.
“You think Brendon should have joined us? Wouldn't have picked you as a threesome kind of guy.”
Bob's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest. “I didn't mean...”
Spencer smirked back at him, happy to score that hit. He took the chance to jump the steps between them, and turn Bob around. He slapped Bob's ass lightly and made a show of pushing him up ahead of him.
“You little... Hey, careful of your arm.”
“Hush, it's fine! Now, more walking, less talking, Bryar. People will start getting back soon and we have Things To Do!”
“Wow,” huffed Bob, “It's not every day I get accused of talking too much.”
Bob's back was solid and warm as Spencer leant in to it, laughing.
“Come on, then.” Bob turned back and grabbed Spencer's hand, holding it as they continued up the stone stairway.
And then, there they were, back in Bob's room. It was as if they'd gone back between times, before Brendon had shouted out, interrupting them. But now, their positions were reversed. Spencer had Bob backed up against the desk, the jug of klah - now cold - near his hip, and they were kissing. Bob's hands felt good running up and down his back.
There was a gurgle of pleasure drifting up from Miloth. No way Bob was missing that one, judging by the way he groaned and took a firm hold of Spencer's hips.
Spencer arched back, letting himself push into Bob's palms.
“C'mere,” Bob muttered, and tightened his hold, pulling Spencer in towards him. “Shells, your ass.”
Spencer went with it, letting Bob take his weight, pressing them together from knees to hips. His bandaged arm was an awkward lump between their chests.
He rolled a little from side to side, enjoying the way Bob pulled him closer. Spencer smoothed his palm up Bob's side and over his shoulder, and around the back of his neck, running his fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little before leaning back in, pressing his open mouth to Bob's cheek. The stubble was rough against his lips. Bob curved down to suck gently at Spencer's neck.
Spencer decided that there were too many layers in between them and most of them were Bob's. And really, they didn't have all night.
Bob allowed Spencer to push his jacket off his shoulders, and tug his tunic up and over his head, but each time he tried to remove his undershirt, Bob grimaced and pushed his hands away. Spencer could see the edge of some scarring, puckered and red, above his collar. He didn’t ignore it, and licked over it all, enjoying the contrasting texture of the fine pale hair on the unblemished skin.
Bob had stopped with the ass grabbing, and even the neck nuzzling.
“You can touch me, you know? I actually like it.” Spencer tried to find the light hearted feeling they’d had through the day. “You know, when it's not some jerk making a point at my expense.”
Bob’s hands were curled up, almost like fists, against his chest. He glared at his feet. Spencer pushed the front hem of his shirt up and out of his way and tried to slide his hand down the front of Bob’s pants. The weight of Bob’s forearms kept the fabric pressed close to his skin.
Spencer stopped at the fastening to Bob’s belt. It was a little awkward to do one handed. He raised an eyebrow at Bob.
“Oh. Sorry...”
Bob fumbled with his pants. Spencer noticed that his hands were shaking.
Bob was shooting Spencer worried looks, even though his belt was now undone, and he was holding his pants up, not allowing them to drop. It was disconcerting how big a deal it seemed to be, as if there could be any logical reasons not to enjoy some sex together.
“Hey Bob, you know we can stop if you don't want to do this. Should we?” Spencer stepped back. “You wanna stop?”
Blond eyelashes fluttered down as he closed his eyes, and his lips pulled to one side and then the other.
Bob shook his head.
There was a deep flush on Bob’s cheeks; it wasn’t difficult to read the hesitation.
Spencer couldn’t remember ever having to work this hard to get his mouth on someone before. If he hadn’t had Miloth nudging him along with her quiet assurances, Yes. His heart is beating fast and his thoughts are saying 'yes', then he might have just stopped things there and then.
There was no appeal to Spencer at all in taking someone against their will. Spencer's first couple of mating flights had been enough to show him how important it was to be fully consenting to what was going down. Or who.
“So, you do want to keep going?”
Bob didn’t answer.
“Okay. I’m not really sure what you’re thinking right now. It seems like cheating to just ask my dragon to rat you out.”
“Yeah. No. I mean, yeah I do. Want to.”
For a moment, Spencer felt completely out of his depth. He was good at the orgasm part. He just wanted Bob to feel good, to maybe smile, to maybe think Spencer was awesome.
You have been doing all of those things. He has been feeling good, and smiling. And thinking that you are awesome.
Spencer felt her good humour, and her love and acceptance. All of those things he could share with Bob.
Or he could walk away. He could chalk the whole thing up to experience, and return to the weyr, and never have to get mixed up in something so complicated again.
The problem was, that somewhere along the line, it had started to matter to Spencer. Not just that Bob could relax and maybe even get off. Or that Bob could look at Spencer like he was something special. Or even that Spencer's dragon seemed to think that the two of them should get together.
It started to matter to Spencer that Bob not be alone.
Bob flinched away again when Spencer ran his hand over Bob’s chest.
“Does it hurt?” Spencer asked, pulling back.
“No. Feels weird, though,” replied Bob. “Looks pretty ugly, too.”
Spencer had an idea.
It was still awkward getting out of his shirt, and Spencer was happy to let Bob unclip the fastenings and ease the fabric over the bulk of his strapped up arm. He still had a bandage over the worst of his burns, but there was some pink new skin that the Healers insisted would do better being exposed to the air. Spencer picked up Bob's hand and placed it on his chest next to the bandage.
“Do you think this is ugly? Does it creep you out?”
Spencer could hear Miloth reassuring Bob that he wasn't hurting him, that his touch felt good.
You both have your scars.
Bob's fingers were so gentle that Spencer wasn't sure if he was actually putting any pressure on his skin at all.
Go on.
“Go on.”
Spencer and Miloth spoke at the same time.
“You two are ganging up on me. I don't think that's fair.”
The corners of Bob's lips quirked up briefly. Spencer felt his stomach swoop a little with the thrill he felt whenever he got Bob to smile. He grinned back, enjoying the way he didn't have to hide that.
“How about we just leave your shirt on?”
Bob swallowed, and then nodded. And then he opened his eyes and nodded again.
“Okay, so I’ll just…”
“I’m sorry. It’s…I’m all fucked up.”
Spencer didn’t reply, he just kept his eyes on Bob's as he worked the pants open, gently tugging the fabric to the side and down to free the erection that was caught uncomfortably in its folds.
He whispered his fingers from hip to hip, before running the flat of his palm along the length of Bob’s cock, the weight of his hand dragging it down. He curved his hand over the head, and then rubbed along the underside as he angled it back up to lie against Bob’s stomach. His fingers curled around and gripped firmly as he started to pull.
Bob's lips parted, his chest rising as he sucked in air. Spencer inhaled the scent of Bob's skin.
He checked in again with Miloth, instinctively relaxing into a rhythm as her approval and interest caused his own arousal to surge. It wasn't anywhere near as overwhelming as a mating flight, when Miloth's desire was all Spencer could feel, but having her there was such a part of the experience. Spencer couldn't even comprehend being without it. He realised that her involvement was probably the best and worst part of this for Bob. On the one hand, connecting through her had made the whole thing possible, but also brought the pain of his loss into sharp focus.
“I’m going to suck you now. That okay?”
“Yeah. No. I mean, yeah. Fuck.”
Spencer felt off balance with his arm strapped up against his chest, but put that thought aside and lowered himself down as smoothly as he could. He reached for Bob's cock, stroking it firmly a few times and then sliding slowly down, moving his tongue from side to side and tilting his head back for an easier angle.
Above him, Bob was silent, but his cock was hard against Spencer’s tongue.
Spencer took that as a sign to continue.
He tugged the fabric of Bob's trousers a couple of inches on one side and then the other until they dropped to the floor. He let Bob’s cock slip out of his mouth and picked up Bob’s feet, one by one, and pushed the pants out of the way. Bob scrubbed his palm over his beard and neck before covering his face with both hands.
“Ah shit. Listen, Spencer, it.... I...” Bob's voice was muffled and constricted into a thread.
Spencer leant forward, and placed his lips straight onto the old burns that curled up around Bob's left leg.
“Fuck! Really, you don't have to-I know it doesn’t look good and --”
“Shut up, Bob. You look good. You look great.”
Penth, I do not think that asking this one to be shut up is the way to talk to a lover.
Miloth's reproof wrung a shocked snort from Bob. He lowered his hands, placing them either side of his hips on the worktable and looked at Spencer.
“She has a point, you know.”
“I apologise. I like it when you talk.”
Bob squirmed.
“The thing is, I know. I know I don't have to do anything,” Spencer said before Bob had a chance tell him not to worry about it, to forget the whole thing. He could feel his breath bounce back onto his face, and his lips tickled, catching on the fine pale hairs. “But there are a bunch of things that I want to do.”
He slid his good hand up the back of Bob's other leg, and rested it on the curve of his ass. His legs were strong and his thighs thick and firm.
He seemed to be relaxing, so Spencer kept stroking, allowing just his finger tips to venture underneath the hem line. Bob shut his eyes and clamped his hand over Spencer’s, stilling it. He shook his head.
“Is this why you haven’t done this much since…” Spencer hadn’t really meant to ask that out loud, but it seemed a little more reliable than asking Miloth.
Bob cleared his throat. “At all since…” He trailed off.
Spencer tried to remember how long ago Bob had left the weyr. However long it was, it seemed way too long. Too long that Bob had been alone with his scars and his memories.
You are never alone. And for now, in this moment, neither is he.
He let that thought settle for a moment and then turned his face back towards Bob's belly. He wrapped his good arm around Bob's waist, and squeezed. The muscles were tense.
Spencer let go of Bob and held on to the table, grimacing as he leant back onto his heels and then pulled himself up to standing. His knees and ribs ached from the position he'd been in and he allowed himself a quick moment to stretch and breathe, before stepping forward, into Bob's space. He ran his hand up and down Bob's arm, and looked him in the eye.
There were dark circles underneath Bob’s eyes and his cheeks seemed too thin for his build. Spencer was pretty sure that Bob should have a fuller face.
Spencer stared at his lips as Bob cupped the back of his head, holding him steady. Bob brushed his fingers over the faded bruises on his temple and then leant in and kissed him.
They kissed again, and Spencer pushed into Bob's touch. He lifted one foot up behind him and reached back to push at his shoe, fiddling about until first one, and then the other dropped to the floor. Bob ran his hands more confidently over Spencer's chest - thumb absently rubbing over his nipple - and belly and shoulders, settling in the small of his back, pulling them closer together. Spencer took the opportunity to roll his hips, enjoying the way the zing of arousal overshadowed the worry and concern.
The work table rocked and Bob bumped the jug still sitting there from the morning. It toppled over, spilling cold klah onto the bundle of fabric that was Bob's trousers and then fell to the ground, breaking into several pieces.
“Ah shards,” he mumbled, pushing the pieces with his foot. “We should move. Hey, come here.”
Bob put his hands on Spencer's hips, pushing him away a little and then stumbled backwards the few steps it took to sit down on his bed. His hands were still guiding Spencer, pulling him closer to stand between his legs.
Bob took a deep breath, but this time his hands were steady as he undid Spencer's belt.
As soon as it was undone, Spencer knelt up on the bed, pushing Bob onto his back. Bob tugged on the belt, and Spencer fell forward with an oomph. He pushed up and held his weight on one good hand. Bob's hands were all over him, running over his hips and up to his hair. His parted lips were wet and Spencer couldn't resist running his tongue along the delicate line of his top lip. He rolled over to support himself on his elbow so that he could lift up his hips, helping Bob push his pants down over his ass, just enough to release his cock.
Spencer sucked in his stomach trying to give Bob room to reach between them and take both their cocks together, his fleshy palm strong and capable. He met each of Bob's upward surges with a downward thrust of his own. The flush in Bob's cheeks crept up to his hairline and down his neck. He breathed loudly through his open mouth, chin forward slightly as he gulped in air, eyes flicking between Spencer's face and his own hand.
From there it was only a matter of a few hurried, frantic minutes before the moment crashed over them; Bob's long low groan echoed in Miloth's triumphant warble.
Spencer's arm was quivering from holding his weight. He flopped over onto his back, wedged in between Bob and the wall. He breathed, enjoying the satisfaction and fondness that was looping through him, and through Miloth and Bob and back again. There was still a buzzing sense of arousal in the air. They had only really taken the edge off.
Spencer felt Bob stretch out and rummage over the side of the bed. He scooped something off the floor. It was the klah soaked trousers. Bob felt along the fabric and found the other leg was dry. He wiped his own hand and chest and then he shook the fabric and folded it, arranging a clean patch of cloth and offered it to Spencer.
This was the part that Spencer hated. It was always a bit awkward after a hook up or a flight. Some guys would want to lie there for a while, maybe go again. Some would be wishing him out of the room quick smart. He was aware of being ready to ease the departure, aware that Bob was stuck here with him in his room. Bob couldn't escape if he wanted to, so it was only polite for Spencer to be the one to make the move to leave. Spencer felt torn between his need to not look too imposing and how much he was enjoying laying there together.
He handed the pants back and the action stretched his arm out. He extended it up, pulling on the sore muscles, twisting it to feel the stretch. Bob rolled towards him and started to rub at his shoulder. His fingers felt awesome. The rubbing became stroking. The stroking became finger tips. And then there was the hint of lips. And then an actual kiss pressed to his shoulder. And another.
But there was nothing more. Spencer opened his eyes to look at Bob. It occurred to Spencer that Bob probably felt even more hesitant and unsure than he did. He wondered how he could even have considered leaving, abandoning Bob after his first time in years.
Bob was looking away now, his face shutting down a little.
Into the silence came Miloth saying wistfully I liked the kissing. It was very nice. Will there be any more?
Bob and Spencer both chuckled and Bob took the initiative, leaning forward and in.
“I liked the kissing, too. And, um. The rest.”
Spencer's could feel his cheeks tighten as his grin stretched across his face.
They kissed for a few minutes. Spencer tried to get comfortable without breaking contact, but his pants were still pushed down around his thighs and were twisted, restricting his movement. It was difficult to turn himself over with his dodgy arm on the narrow cot. His bandages caught on the fabric of bob's shirt.
“Um.”
Bob reached over to Spencer's hip. “Here. Let me”. He lifted as he helped Spencer turn over, leaving him lower on the bed, backed up against the wall.
He leant up on his elbow, one bare leg bent at the knee, foot flat to the mattress, and even though he wasn't as tall as he seemed, Bob loomed over Spencer, a large physical presence. All of his attention was focused on Spencer's lips. He rolled forward, pressing Spencer further into the wall.
And oh. Oh yeah. Miloth and Bob were right. The kissing was very nice indeed.
next
~
Thankyou to maple_mahogany for the read throughs (you really pushed me to make this better and i'm so very grateful to you) and to barmy_bunk for the beta. All remaining errors are my own.
Disclaimer: The Pern universe and the world, creatures and customs that belong to it remain the intellectual property of Anne McCaffrey, and the characters referenced in this piece are fictional representations of real people. No offense or infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Rating: Intended for an Adult Audience (adult language, explicit sexual themes)
Fandom: Bandom/Dragonriders of Pern crossover (posted for bandom_pern)
Pairing: Bob/Spencer
Warnings: None (mention of injuries/scars)
Words: 3500-ish
Summary: And then, there they were, back in Bob's room.
Previous Ficlets in the Series: 1. Bob, 2. Spencer, 3. Brendon, 4. Brian, 5. Bob Again, 6. Greta, 7. Spencer Again, 8. Miloth, 9. Bob Once More, 10. Brendon Visits.
Spencer and Bob
Spencer could see Dylanth’s silhouette blocking the lights that were just starting to shine around the Gather. Miloth let out a bugle of farewell. The shape hovered in the air for a moment and then was gone, taking Brendon and Shane back to the Weyr.
He turned without speaking to follow Bryar - Bob - up the stone steps and into the Crafthall.
Bob was just standing there, a few steps up from him, with an unreadable expression on his face.
“You okay? Wish you could go back with them? Or, you know... wish that Brendon was staying?”
Spencer stared at Bob for a moment. He wondered if it was possible that he'd been misreading Bob's signals all day. They’d spent the afternoon wandering around the Gather, joking with Brendon and Shane, and avoiding anyone who knew Bob.
It had become a bit of a challenge for Spencer to get Bob to unravel a little. Brendon had really helped with that, poking fun at his fierce reputation and promising to tell the entire weyr that he had made Bob Bryar actually laugh. (“Hate to tell you this, dude, but you are really not that scary.”)
Spencer had been aware of the warmth of Bob’s arm close to his, occasionally brushing against him, making him shiver and hope that Bob was as interested in getting the hell back up to the crafthall as he was. In the back of his mind, Spencer could feel Miloth basking in the attention she was receiving from Dylanth, adding to the rising tide of want swirling around inside his chest. He wondered if Bob felt it, too.
He'd caught lots of sideways looks as he'd stretched or pushed the hair back off his face. There had even been a moment when they had caught each other's glance before Bob had run his eyes slowly down from Spencer's lips to his legs and then back up again. It was nice to know that it wasn't just his dragon that Bob was interested in.
Yeah... he was pretty sure that Bob wanted this. Spencer was absolutely certain that he did.
“You think Brendon should have joined us? Wouldn't have picked you as a threesome kind of guy.”
Bob's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest. “I didn't mean...”
Spencer smirked back at him, happy to score that hit. He took the chance to jump the steps between them, and turn Bob around. He slapped Bob's ass lightly and made a show of pushing him up ahead of him.
“You little... Hey, careful of your arm.”
“Hush, it's fine! Now, more walking, less talking, Bryar. People will start getting back soon and we have Things To Do!”
“Wow,” huffed Bob, “It's not every day I get accused of talking too much.”
Bob's back was solid and warm as Spencer leant in to it, laughing.
“Come on, then.” Bob turned back and grabbed Spencer's hand, holding it as they continued up the stone stairway.
And then, there they were, back in Bob's room. It was as if they'd gone back between times, before Brendon had shouted out, interrupting them. But now, their positions were reversed. Spencer had Bob backed up against the desk, the jug of klah - now cold - near his hip, and they were kissing. Bob's hands felt good running up and down his back.
There was a gurgle of pleasure drifting up from Miloth. No way Bob was missing that one, judging by the way he groaned and took a firm hold of Spencer's hips.
Spencer arched back, letting himself push into Bob's palms.
“C'mere,” Bob muttered, and tightened his hold, pulling Spencer in towards him. “Shells, your ass.”
Spencer went with it, letting Bob take his weight, pressing them together from knees to hips. His bandaged arm was an awkward lump between their chests.
He rolled a little from side to side, enjoying the way Bob pulled him closer. Spencer smoothed his palm up Bob's side and over his shoulder, and around the back of his neck, running his fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little before leaning back in, pressing his open mouth to Bob's cheek. The stubble was rough against his lips. Bob curved down to suck gently at Spencer's neck.
Spencer decided that there were too many layers in between them and most of them were Bob's. And really, they didn't have all night.
Bob allowed Spencer to push his jacket off his shoulders, and tug his tunic up and over his head, but each time he tried to remove his undershirt, Bob grimaced and pushed his hands away. Spencer could see the edge of some scarring, puckered and red, above his collar. He didn’t ignore it, and licked over it all, enjoying the contrasting texture of the fine pale hair on the unblemished skin.
Bob had stopped with the ass grabbing, and even the neck nuzzling.
“You can touch me, you know? I actually like it.” Spencer tried to find the light hearted feeling they’d had through the day. “You know, when it's not some jerk making a point at my expense.”
Bob’s hands were curled up, almost like fists, against his chest. He glared at his feet. Spencer pushed the front hem of his shirt up and out of his way and tried to slide his hand down the front of Bob’s pants. The weight of Bob’s forearms kept the fabric pressed close to his skin.
Spencer stopped at the fastening to Bob’s belt. It was a little awkward to do one handed. He raised an eyebrow at Bob.
“Oh. Sorry...”
Bob fumbled with his pants. Spencer noticed that his hands were shaking.
Bob was shooting Spencer worried looks, even though his belt was now undone, and he was holding his pants up, not allowing them to drop. It was disconcerting how big a deal it seemed to be, as if there could be any logical reasons not to enjoy some sex together.
“Hey Bob, you know we can stop if you don't want to do this. Should we?” Spencer stepped back. “You wanna stop?”
Blond eyelashes fluttered down as he closed his eyes, and his lips pulled to one side and then the other.
Bob shook his head.
There was a deep flush on Bob’s cheeks; it wasn’t difficult to read the hesitation.
Spencer couldn’t remember ever having to work this hard to get his mouth on someone before. If he hadn’t had Miloth nudging him along with her quiet assurances, Yes. His heart is beating fast and his thoughts are saying 'yes', then he might have just stopped things there and then.
There was no appeal to Spencer at all in taking someone against their will. Spencer's first couple of mating flights had been enough to show him how important it was to be fully consenting to what was going down. Or who.
“So, you do want to keep going?”
Bob didn’t answer.
“Okay. I’m not really sure what you’re thinking right now. It seems like cheating to just ask my dragon to rat you out.”
“Yeah. No. I mean, yeah I do. Want to.”
For a moment, Spencer felt completely out of his depth. He was good at the orgasm part. He just wanted Bob to feel good, to maybe smile, to maybe think Spencer was awesome.
You have been doing all of those things. He has been feeling good, and smiling. And thinking that you are awesome.
Spencer felt her good humour, and her love and acceptance. All of those things he could share with Bob.
Or he could walk away. He could chalk the whole thing up to experience, and return to the weyr, and never have to get mixed up in something so complicated again.
The problem was, that somewhere along the line, it had started to matter to Spencer. Not just that Bob could relax and maybe even get off. Or that Bob could look at Spencer like he was something special. Or even that Spencer's dragon seemed to think that the two of them should get together.
It started to matter to Spencer that Bob not be alone.
Bob flinched away again when Spencer ran his hand over Bob’s chest.
“Does it hurt?” Spencer asked, pulling back.
“No. Feels weird, though,” replied Bob. “Looks pretty ugly, too.”
Spencer had an idea.
It was still awkward getting out of his shirt, and Spencer was happy to let Bob unclip the fastenings and ease the fabric over the bulk of his strapped up arm. He still had a bandage over the worst of his burns, but there was some pink new skin that the Healers insisted would do better being exposed to the air. Spencer picked up Bob's hand and placed it on his chest next to the bandage.
“Do you think this is ugly? Does it creep you out?”
Spencer could hear Miloth reassuring Bob that he wasn't hurting him, that his touch felt good.
You both have your scars.
Bob's fingers were so gentle that Spencer wasn't sure if he was actually putting any pressure on his skin at all.
Go on.
“Go on.”
Spencer and Miloth spoke at the same time.
“You two are ganging up on me. I don't think that's fair.”
The corners of Bob's lips quirked up briefly. Spencer felt his stomach swoop a little with the thrill he felt whenever he got Bob to smile. He grinned back, enjoying the way he didn't have to hide that.
“How about we just leave your shirt on?”
Bob swallowed, and then nodded. And then he opened his eyes and nodded again.
“Okay, so I’ll just…”
“I’m sorry. It’s…I’m all fucked up.”
Spencer didn’t reply, he just kept his eyes on Bob's as he worked the pants open, gently tugging the fabric to the side and down to free the erection that was caught uncomfortably in its folds.
He whispered his fingers from hip to hip, before running the flat of his palm along the length of Bob’s cock, the weight of his hand dragging it down. He curved his hand over the head, and then rubbed along the underside as he angled it back up to lie against Bob’s stomach. His fingers curled around and gripped firmly as he started to pull.
Bob's lips parted, his chest rising as he sucked in air. Spencer inhaled the scent of Bob's skin.
He checked in again with Miloth, instinctively relaxing into a rhythm as her approval and interest caused his own arousal to surge. It wasn't anywhere near as overwhelming as a mating flight, when Miloth's desire was all Spencer could feel, but having her there was such a part of the experience. Spencer couldn't even comprehend being without it. He realised that her involvement was probably the best and worst part of this for Bob. On the one hand, connecting through her had made the whole thing possible, but also brought the pain of his loss into sharp focus.
“I’m going to suck you now. That okay?”
“Yeah. No. I mean, yeah. Fuck.”
Spencer felt off balance with his arm strapped up against his chest, but put that thought aside and lowered himself down as smoothly as he could. He reached for Bob's cock, stroking it firmly a few times and then sliding slowly down, moving his tongue from side to side and tilting his head back for an easier angle.
Above him, Bob was silent, but his cock was hard against Spencer’s tongue.
Spencer took that as a sign to continue.
He tugged the fabric of Bob's trousers a couple of inches on one side and then the other until they dropped to the floor. He let Bob’s cock slip out of his mouth and picked up Bob’s feet, one by one, and pushed the pants out of the way. Bob scrubbed his palm over his beard and neck before covering his face with both hands.
“Ah shit. Listen, Spencer, it.... I...” Bob's voice was muffled and constricted into a thread.
Spencer leant forward, and placed his lips straight onto the old burns that curled up around Bob's left leg.
“Fuck! Really, you don't have to-I know it doesn’t look good and --”
“Shut up, Bob. You look good. You look great.”
Penth, I do not think that asking this one to be shut up is the way to talk to a lover.
Miloth's reproof wrung a shocked snort from Bob. He lowered his hands, placing them either side of his hips on the worktable and looked at Spencer.
“She has a point, you know.”
“I apologise. I like it when you talk.”
Bob squirmed.
“The thing is, I know. I know I don't have to do anything,” Spencer said before Bob had a chance tell him not to worry about it, to forget the whole thing. He could feel his breath bounce back onto his face, and his lips tickled, catching on the fine pale hairs. “But there are a bunch of things that I want to do.”
He slid his good hand up the back of Bob's other leg, and rested it on the curve of his ass. His legs were strong and his thighs thick and firm.
He seemed to be relaxing, so Spencer kept stroking, allowing just his finger tips to venture underneath the hem line. Bob shut his eyes and clamped his hand over Spencer’s, stilling it. He shook his head.
“Is this why you haven’t done this much since…” Spencer hadn’t really meant to ask that out loud, but it seemed a little more reliable than asking Miloth.
Bob cleared his throat. “At all since…” He trailed off.
Spencer tried to remember how long ago Bob had left the weyr. However long it was, it seemed way too long. Too long that Bob had been alone with his scars and his memories.
You are never alone. And for now, in this moment, neither is he.
He let that thought settle for a moment and then turned his face back towards Bob's belly. He wrapped his good arm around Bob's waist, and squeezed. The muscles were tense.
Spencer let go of Bob and held on to the table, grimacing as he leant back onto his heels and then pulled himself up to standing. His knees and ribs ached from the position he'd been in and he allowed himself a quick moment to stretch and breathe, before stepping forward, into Bob's space. He ran his hand up and down Bob's arm, and looked him in the eye.
There were dark circles underneath Bob’s eyes and his cheeks seemed too thin for his build. Spencer was pretty sure that Bob should have a fuller face.
Spencer stared at his lips as Bob cupped the back of his head, holding him steady. Bob brushed his fingers over the faded bruises on his temple and then leant in and kissed him.
They kissed again, and Spencer pushed into Bob's touch. He lifted one foot up behind him and reached back to push at his shoe, fiddling about until first one, and then the other dropped to the floor. Bob ran his hands more confidently over Spencer's chest - thumb absently rubbing over his nipple - and belly and shoulders, settling in the small of his back, pulling them closer together. Spencer took the opportunity to roll his hips, enjoying the way the zing of arousal overshadowed the worry and concern.
The work table rocked and Bob bumped the jug still sitting there from the morning. It toppled over, spilling cold klah onto the bundle of fabric that was Bob's trousers and then fell to the ground, breaking into several pieces.
“Ah shards,” he mumbled, pushing the pieces with his foot. “We should move. Hey, come here.”
Bob put his hands on Spencer's hips, pushing him away a little and then stumbled backwards the few steps it took to sit down on his bed. His hands were still guiding Spencer, pulling him closer to stand between his legs.
Bob took a deep breath, but this time his hands were steady as he undid Spencer's belt.
As soon as it was undone, Spencer knelt up on the bed, pushing Bob onto his back. Bob tugged on the belt, and Spencer fell forward with an oomph. He pushed up and held his weight on one good hand. Bob's hands were all over him, running over his hips and up to his hair. His parted lips were wet and Spencer couldn't resist running his tongue along the delicate line of his top lip. He rolled over to support himself on his elbow so that he could lift up his hips, helping Bob push his pants down over his ass, just enough to release his cock.
Spencer sucked in his stomach trying to give Bob room to reach between them and take both their cocks together, his fleshy palm strong and capable. He met each of Bob's upward surges with a downward thrust of his own. The flush in Bob's cheeks crept up to his hairline and down his neck. He breathed loudly through his open mouth, chin forward slightly as he gulped in air, eyes flicking between Spencer's face and his own hand.
From there it was only a matter of a few hurried, frantic minutes before the moment crashed over them; Bob's long low groan echoed in Miloth's triumphant warble.
Spencer's arm was quivering from holding his weight. He flopped over onto his back, wedged in between Bob and the wall. He breathed, enjoying the satisfaction and fondness that was looping through him, and through Miloth and Bob and back again. There was still a buzzing sense of arousal in the air. They had only really taken the edge off.
Spencer felt Bob stretch out and rummage over the side of the bed. He scooped something off the floor. It was the klah soaked trousers. Bob felt along the fabric and found the other leg was dry. He wiped his own hand and chest and then he shook the fabric and folded it, arranging a clean patch of cloth and offered it to Spencer.
This was the part that Spencer hated. It was always a bit awkward after a hook up or a flight. Some guys would want to lie there for a while, maybe go again. Some would be wishing him out of the room quick smart. He was aware of being ready to ease the departure, aware that Bob was stuck here with him in his room. Bob couldn't escape if he wanted to, so it was only polite for Spencer to be the one to make the move to leave. Spencer felt torn between his need to not look too imposing and how much he was enjoying laying there together.
He handed the pants back and the action stretched his arm out. He extended it up, pulling on the sore muscles, twisting it to feel the stretch. Bob rolled towards him and started to rub at his shoulder. His fingers felt awesome. The rubbing became stroking. The stroking became finger tips. And then there was the hint of lips. And then an actual kiss pressed to his shoulder. And another.
But there was nothing more. Spencer opened his eyes to look at Bob. It occurred to Spencer that Bob probably felt even more hesitant and unsure than he did. He wondered how he could even have considered leaving, abandoning Bob after his first time in years.
Bob was looking away now, his face shutting down a little.
Into the silence came Miloth saying wistfully I liked the kissing. It was very nice. Will there be any more?
Bob and Spencer both chuckled and Bob took the initiative, leaning forward and in.
“I liked the kissing, too. And, um. The rest.”
Spencer's could feel his cheeks tighten as his grin stretched across his face.
They kissed for a few minutes. Spencer tried to get comfortable without breaking contact, but his pants were still pushed down around his thighs and were twisted, restricting his movement. It was difficult to turn himself over with his dodgy arm on the narrow cot. His bandages caught on the fabric of bob's shirt.
“Um.”
Bob reached over to Spencer's hip. “Here. Let me”. He lifted as he helped Spencer turn over, leaving him lower on the bed, backed up against the wall.
He leant up on his elbow, one bare leg bent at the knee, foot flat to the mattress, and even though he wasn't as tall as he seemed, Bob loomed over Spencer, a large physical presence. All of his attention was focused on Spencer's lips. He rolled forward, pressing Spencer further into the wall.
And oh. Oh yeah. Miloth and Bob were right. The kissing was very nice indeed.
next
~
Thankyou to maple_mahogany for the read throughs (you really pushed me to make this better and i'm so very grateful to you) and to barmy_bunk for the beta. All remaining errors are my own.
Disclaimer: The Pern universe and the world, creatures and customs that belong to it remain the intellectual property of Anne McCaffrey, and the characters referenced in this piece are fictional representations of real people. No offense or infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.