Invisible Man: Glory, Glory
Title: Glory, Glory
Fandom: Invisible Man
Rating: Adult
Words: 1324
Characters: Darien/OMC, Bobby
Summary: Darien has a problem. Bobby has a plan.
Challenge: Cuff ‘Em, Vamp ‘Em, or Just Make ‘Em Come Already Kink and Cliché Multi-Fandom Challenge
Prompt: Anonymous sex
Author's Note: Thanks to lon_dubh for beta :) Darien Fawkes and Bobby Hobbes belong to people who are not me.
ETA: I've been nominated at the rerunawards, and won for Best Invisible Man fic (banner below the cut)! Thank you :)
Darien still can't believe they're even here, wherever 'here' is. He hadn't expected Bobby at his door, hadn't expected him to notice just how long it's been since Darien got laid, and sure as hell hadn't expected Bobby to declare he had "a plan" to deal with the situation. Darien's got the sinking feeling that someday, one of Bobby's plans will be the death of him.
Tonight's plan apparently involves Darien getting his dick sucked through a hole in the wall.
He's not going to ask, never ever going to ask how Bobby knows where to go for this sort of thing. Why he decided this is the solution to Darien's dilemma, though, that is completely fair game but Hobbes naturally doesn't answer him, just stops him outside a nondescript door in a nondescript wall, looks him up and down and fires off a pretty embarrassing question of his own.
"Listen, Fawkes, can you at least keep your heads visible?"
"I... heads?" It comes out as a squeak, but given the circumstances Darien thinks he's entitled.
Bobby raises that eyebrow at him, takes him by the arm, and hustles him inside. 'Inside' being dimly lit, smoky, and loud enough Darien can barely hear Bobby muttering over the music. He's pretty sure he catches "freakishly tall" and "things I do," but he wouldn't swear to it.
They pass a small bar, a square patch of space that is probably meant to be a dance floor, another bar and it occurs to Darien that a drink might really be good right now, but Bobby doesn't even pause, just keeps herding Darien toward a shadowed door in the back corner. All business. And that's exactly the kind of hysteria-tinged thought that Darien needs to stop thinking, right now.
Bobby steers him through the second door and keeps going, angling through a maze of narrow hallways and Darien has to trust Bobby not to run him into anything until his eyes adjust. He's not thinking about the noises coming from the doorways they pass, and he is so completely not-thinking about how well Bobby knows his way back here that when Bobby stops, the sudden tug on Darien's arm nearly sends him face-first into the wall. Which is, he discovers when his palm hits it, carpeted. Huh.
Bobby grabs him by the waist and shifts him six inches to the left, and now he's looking down at a hole in the carpeted wall.
"You've got to be kidding me. No way."
Bobby huffs out an annoyed breath and okay, if Darien was going to raise serious objection to this idea, maybe the time for it was, oh, back at his apartment and not here. But to be honest, even though every one of Bobby's reasons for this made perfect sense, Darien had been half-convinced this was some kind of elaborate prank until right this second.
"Do I look like I'm kidding? Is this my kidding fa-... no, don't turn around, never mind." Bobby's grip tightens on Darien's hips and he pushes down, making Darien bend his knees until the hole is even with, uhm.
"This sucks."
"If you're lucky, my friend, it's going to suck a lot. You need some help, there?"
"No!"
Christ no, Darien is perfectly capable of taking his own dick out of his pants, and he proves it before Bobby gets the wrong idea. The right idea. Any idea. Thankfully, Little Darien is one-hundred-percent on board with the proceedings and doesn't leave him swinging in the wind, so to speak. 'High and dry' is probably a better description because once he gets situated, scoots up closer to the wall and, you know, in the, yeah, the only thing moving anywhere near his cock is air.
This has got to be the most ridiculous feeling, ever.
"What if no one... you know."
"Someone will, trust me."
"But, what if? Like, if no one's around right now, or- ohholyshit!"
Bobby actually laughs, and he'd get an elbow in the ribs for it if Darien weren't otherwise occupied. The person- guy, fine, Darien knows perfectly well there's a man on the other side of this wall, and he doesn't mess around with fingers or tongue-swipes or any of that, just sucks Darien's cock right into his mouth.
And God, he's good. This whole thing would be over in about 2.6 seconds, except for the part where if Darien goes see-through they're all in a world of trouble, which is why he's here in the first place instead of somewhere else on an actual date with an actual not-separated-by-plywood-and-carpet person.
The suction on his dick right now is incredible, all hot slick heat and Darien wants so badly to just press up against the wall and give in to it, but he can't, he knows he can't. Bobby has stopped laughing, and Darien sort of hears him moving with the small part of his brain not chanting fuck yes there God. He plants his hands on the wall on either side of Darien and he's like a shield, a solid presence between Darien and the slow trickle of men moving past their alcove.
Bobby has literally got him covered.
"Ease up, Fawkes, keep it together."
Darien curls his fingers against the wall, dragging his nails over the cheap-ass polyester fiber and his hands and his knees are all he can let himself lean on, four points of contact and his dick in a hole. Darien's got to ride a fine edge between so much control he won't come and so little he Quicksilvers something noticeable and causes a scene, and he's going to do it with Bobby's heat at his back and his murmured voice in Darien's ear.
His... not his partner, the other guy, the one with his mouth on Darien's cock does a thing with his tongue, and there's a tingle in Darien's balls and an answering one from the base of his skull, and Bobby's still talking to him.
"Okay, you lost a bit of leg there, no big deal...."
And that's how it goes, Darien's attention split between his dick and the gland and Bobby tracking body parts as they silver over and vanish. It's heaven and hell, a weird-ass limbo state like most of the rest of his life and in the end, as always, it's Bobby who calls him back.
"Fawkes, Fawksie, Darien. C'mon, man, you gotta give it up, here."
Darien grits his teeth and comes, savage thwarted pressure in the gland making his head pound even as his balls are emptying down the man's throat and God, it's almost too much. It leaves him wrung out and gasping, leaning into the wall while Bobby runs his hands over Darien's back like he's dusting off the already-vanished flakes of Quicksilver.
"Darien, hey."
"Yeah... yeah, gimme a minute."
He looks down and this has never not been strange, but now the guy who just sucked his dick has vanished and these things, the holes, they're easier to navigate when you're hard. He lifts his cock and carefully eases away from the hole, and as he's tucking himself back into his pants, Bobby's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing warm circles on the nape of Darien's neck.
"Better?"
Darien has to think before he answers, because it is and it isn't. Getting up close and not-so-personal with something other than his hand, yeah, that was worth it and God knows he just came like a freight train, but still.
"I'm good."
It's not a lie, just not the whole truth. He can't say it, not to Bobby with his "fishing off the company pier" issues and all, but the whole time, what Darien really wanted to do was turn around.
Fandom: Invisible Man
Rating: Adult
Words: 1324
Characters: Darien/OMC, Bobby
Summary: Darien has a problem. Bobby has a plan.
Challenge: Cuff ‘Em, Vamp ‘Em, or Just Make ‘Em Come Already Kink and Cliché Multi-Fandom Challenge
Prompt: Anonymous sex
Author's Note: Thanks to lon_dubh for beta :) Darien Fawkes and Bobby Hobbes belong to people who are not me.
ETA: I've been nominated at the rerunawards, and won for Best Invisible Man fic (banner below the cut)! Thank you :)
Darien still can't believe they're even here, wherever 'here' is. He hadn't expected Bobby at his door, hadn't expected him to notice just how long it's been since Darien got laid, and sure as hell hadn't expected Bobby to declare he had "a plan" to deal with the situation. Darien's got the sinking feeling that someday, one of Bobby's plans will be the death of him.
Tonight's plan apparently involves Darien getting his dick sucked through a hole in the wall.
He's not going to ask, never ever going to ask how Bobby knows where to go for this sort of thing. Why he decided this is the solution to Darien's dilemma, though, that is completely fair game but Hobbes naturally doesn't answer him, just stops him outside a nondescript door in a nondescript wall, looks him up and down and fires off a pretty embarrassing question of his own.
"Listen, Fawkes, can you at least keep your heads visible?"
"I... heads?" It comes out as a squeak, but given the circumstances Darien thinks he's entitled.
Bobby raises that eyebrow at him, takes him by the arm, and hustles him inside. 'Inside' being dimly lit, smoky, and loud enough Darien can barely hear Bobby muttering over the music. He's pretty sure he catches "freakishly tall" and "things I do," but he wouldn't swear to it.
They pass a small bar, a square patch of space that is probably meant to be a dance floor, another bar and it occurs to Darien that a drink might really be good right now, but Bobby doesn't even pause, just keeps herding Darien toward a shadowed door in the back corner. All business. And that's exactly the kind of hysteria-tinged thought that Darien needs to stop thinking, right now.
Bobby steers him through the second door and keeps going, angling through a maze of narrow hallways and Darien has to trust Bobby not to run him into anything until his eyes adjust. He's not thinking about the noises coming from the doorways they pass, and he is so completely not-thinking about how well Bobby knows his way back here that when Bobby stops, the sudden tug on Darien's arm nearly sends him face-first into the wall. Which is, he discovers when his palm hits it, carpeted. Huh.
Bobby grabs him by the waist and shifts him six inches to the left, and now he's looking down at a hole in the carpeted wall.
"You've got to be kidding me. No way."
Bobby huffs out an annoyed breath and okay, if Darien was going to raise serious objection to this idea, maybe the time for it was, oh, back at his apartment and not here. But to be honest, even though every one of Bobby's reasons for this made perfect sense, Darien had been half-convinced this was some kind of elaborate prank until right this second.
"Do I look like I'm kidding? Is this my kidding fa-... no, don't turn around, never mind." Bobby's grip tightens on Darien's hips and he pushes down, making Darien bend his knees until the hole is even with, uhm.
"This sucks."
"If you're lucky, my friend, it's going to suck a lot. You need some help, there?"
"No!"
Christ no, Darien is perfectly capable of taking his own dick out of his pants, and he proves it before Bobby gets the wrong idea. The right idea. Any idea. Thankfully, Little Darien is one-hundred-percent on board with the proceedings and doesn't leave him swinging in the wind, so to speak. 'High and dry' is probably a better description because once he gets situated, scoots up closer to the wall and, you know, in the, yeah, the only thing moving anywhere near his cock is air.
This has got to be the most ridiculous feeling, ever.
"What if no one... you know."
"Someone will, trust me."
"But, what if? Like, if no one's around right now, or- ohholyshit!"
Bobby actually laughs, and he'd get an elbow in the ribs for it if Darien weren't otherwise occupied. The person- guy, fine, Darien knows perfectly well there's a man on the other side of this wall, and he doesn't mess around with fingers or tongue-swipes or any of that, just sucks Darien's cock right into his mouth.
And God, he's good. This whole thing would be over in about 2.6 seconds, except for the part where if Darien goes see-through they're all in a world of trouble, which is why he's here in the first place instead of somewhere else on an actual date with an actual not-separated-by-plywood-and-carpet person.
The suction on his dick right now is incredible, all hot slick heat and Darien wants so badly to just press up against the wall and give in to it, but he can't, he knows he can't. Bobby has stopped laughing, and Darien sort of hears him moving with the small part of his brain not chanting fuck yes there God. He plants his hands on the wall on either side of Darien and he's like a shield, a solid presence between Darien and the slow trickle of men moving past their alcove.
Bobby has literally got him covered.
"Ease up, Fawkes, keep it together."
Darien curls his fingers against the wall, dragging his nails over the cheap-ass polyester fiber and his hands and his knees are all he can let himself lean on, four points of contact and his dick in a hole. Darien's got to ride a fine edge between so much control he won't come and so little he Quicksilvers something noticeable and causes a scene, and he's going to do it with Bobby's heat at his back and his murmured voice in Darien's ear.
His... not his partner, the other guy, the one with his mouth on Darien's cock does a thing with his tongue, and there's a tingle in Darien's balls and an answering one from the base of his skull, and Bobby's still talking to him.
"Okay, you lost a bit of leg there, no big deal...."
And that's how it goes, Darien's attention split between his dick and the gland and Bobby tracking body parts as they silver over and vanish. It's heaven and hell, a weird-ass limbo state like most of the rest of his life and in the end, as always, it's Bobby who calls him back.
"Fawkes, Fawksie, Darien. C'mon, man, you gotta give it up, here."
Darien grits his teeth and comes, savage thwarted pressure in the gland making his head pound even as his balls are emptying down the man's throat and God, it's almost too much. It leaves him wrung out and gasping, leaning into the wall while Bobby runs his hands over Darien's back like he's dusting off the already-vanished flakes of Quicksilver.
"Darien, hey."
"Yeah... yeah, gimme a minute."
He looks down and this has never not been strange, but now the guy who just sucked his dick has vanished and these things, the holes, they're easier to navigate when you're hard. He lifts his cock and carefully eases away from the hole, and as he's tucking himself back into his pants, Bobby's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing warm circles on the nape of Darien's neck.
"Better?"
Darien has to think before he answers, because it is and it isn't. Getting up close and not-so-personal with something other than his hand, yeah, that was worth it and God knows he just came like a freight train, but still.
"I'm good."
It's not a lie, just not the whole truth. He can't say it, not to Bobby with his "fishing off the company pier" issues and all, but the whole time, what Darien really wanted to do was turn around.