"Oh, here we fucking go again!" The aggressive clink of a whiskey glass colliding with the wooden coffee table was enough to tell that Simon was a man of very short temper - that, and the restless sneer creased across his expression that almost made his usually-warm-brown eyes swirl a rabid black. Robert was quick to flinch, bracing himself for that harsh tone to become all the more threatening. He knew that tone well - knew he'd incautiously struck a nerve.
"Jealous? Really?" Simon scowled in disbelief, "Of fucking Gary?" Robert's possessive, yet almost childlike envy when it came to Simon's other friends was unremarkable. Although, Biddles had been of acquaintance for almost four years, being the roadie wasn't all he bared on his shoulders. He'd witnessed firsthand the malicious brawls that broke out between the two in bloodthirsty moments of incoherence, and had been Simon's shoulder to cry on more than Robert ever could've been the last two tedious years. The petty jealously stemed from never quite having enough time completely alone with his dearest friend. It was selfish, he knew that, yet his stroppiness always got the better of him and without a filter, brooding had been plastered on his face ever since Gary had knocked on Robert's hotel room door, unexpectedly interrupting what Robert had hoped would be a slow drink with his bassist. The few minutes Gary had spent asking Simon what his plans were for the next day felt an eternity to Robert. He wanted to childishly yell that Simon was no longer Gary's property. In his mind, Fools dance was no more and long gone. He'd taken Simon rightfully back and wished that to be the end of it. But to his major disappointment, the world didn't revolve around his every need.
"All you do is fucking nag, Robert!" Simon was up on staggering feet now, keeping a weary distance from the latter who stiffly perched himself on the edge of the bed with fidgety hands in his lap, refusing eye contact. "Push, push, push! Is that all you're capable of?" Simon's angered ranting mimicked his tipsy sways. Robert then wished they hadn't drank so early as the taller man leered closer in drunken threat. "All I said was I wanted some alone time!" Robert squeaked, trying his very best to not let another situation get out of hand. He'd only just fought for his best friend back, he couldn't bear to lose him again. "I shouldn't have said anything okay..." that was his small attempt of an apology, never one for using the word sorry. He'd always said what he meant with no hesitation.
"Fucking hypocrite you are." Simon scoffed, grimacing toward the door. Robert sat anxiously, expecting a deserved fist to the face as Simon balefully swung his body around mere moments later. "Was I crying at your knees when Severin swept you off your fucking feet?" That jeopardizing dig caught Robert off guard, he almost couldn't beileve those words came out of Simon's spiteful mouth. He'd hoped this envy would be behind them, yet they were both very much in contact with eachothers 'temporary replacements.' They were just as hypocritical as eachother.
But, Robert's sharp tongue had dulled down throughout the last drag of eighty-four, leaving any pent up aggression to disintegrate. He was exhausted of pointless squabbles and sickened by the sound of unreasonable arguments. He stared motionlessly to the beige hotel carpet; defeated.
Nonetheless, Simon's burnt fuse wasn't far from unhinged and by look of the slight crook of his upper lip; those bared teeth weren't merciful.
Within a stride he was up in Robert's personal space, wavering infront of him without a motive. "Well? Was Steve the perfect man then or what?" He pried, begging for a reaction. But Robert didn't dare retaliate in insult, far too fragile to start something he feared he couldn't finish. "No, Simon. I didn't say that-" Simon's fingers interrupted Robert with a harsh pinch to his cheek, forcing them to make dangerously close eye contact. Robert's heart was quick to flutter as he noticed Simon's dark eyes begin to glance downwards, slowly trailing across his clothed body.
He squirmed, feeling uncomfortably exposed as Simon's eyes met his again. "Well, Severin really made an impression." He tittered. "He certainly conditioned you to...alot." Robert's brow furrowed, not quite knowing what he was inquiring by that. But his index finger suddenly poked its way into the soft flesh of Robert's abdomen, causing a sharp, breathy reaction. Startled, Robert gazed up in the sweetest innocence he could muster, waiting for degradation to spill from Simon's lips.
"Kept you well fed didn't he?" Simon's tone switched silken so quickly, Robert almost couldn't catch his breath. "Si..." he exhaled quietly, feeling his face flush. His eyes were glued to his feet once more in embarrassment, bound to Simon's degrading words, ashamed that he knew exactly what to say to render him helplessly hot.
The stale tension in the air was now swirling dizzy warmth into Robert's head as Simon's hands began to explore as they pleased, starting with gentle, aimless caresses across his chest, simply stroking with the back of his hand.
-
He hadn't been wrong, Steven certainly was perceptive of Robert's specific needs when it came to the bedroom, forcing him under the influence on whatever class A intoxicants he could get his hands on, keeping a close eye on his behaviour once vulnerable and far too disoriented to care for himself, almost obsessed with observing his bizarre behavior. It had come to Steve's curious attention that Robert's come downs were met with extreme fatigue - mocked as laziness by Severin. And of course, he waited on hand and foot for him, bringing him every washed-out craving and happily helping with every basic task.
Robert had a sweet tooth, it was apparent. Yet, it was obviously deeper than mere dopamine cravings. Steve had seen the way Robert's haphazardly cherry-stained lips carefully and sensually sucked upon every treat, taking great care to ensure he'd enjoyed the whole flavour. Steven had wondered how he hadn't noticed it before when it came to meal times. Robert was undoubtedly the rifest eater out of the banshees; shy, yet incautious of the volume he consumed, not seeming to even notice when Sioux and Peter would snicker, quietly poking fun at him from across the table.
Steven, however, saw past inebriated greed, taking sick advantage of Robert's need for self-indulgence. To his perverted satisfaction, The glove had been Steve's perfect opportunity to experiment with what his friend truly liked.
The first time was at Steve's apartment. He'd fixed Robert up with a gram of hash, ceding him enteringly dazed and lethargic. The slightly humorous - more demeaning red, swollen eyes and laxness as he slunk further into the couch was only the beginning of Steven's personal sleazy sight for sore eyes.
"Robert, I've got a left over strawberry tart in the fridge." Steven's open-ended words had come from the kitchen, to where Robert hadn't noticed he'd slipped off to. Robert didn't answer - didn't have the choice. It had already been presented to him on a small plate, untouched and blatantly not leftover. "Well? Not ravenous from the spliff yet?" He was. The delectable, sugary, puffed dessert was dripping with sensuality. As Steve wavered a crumbling forkful to Robert's lips, he was undoubtedly stripped bare of control. This was what he needed. The ultimate form of prideless masochism.
-
"Simon...oh..." Robert huffed softly, arching his back just enough for Simon to reach him where he really wanted to be touched. A smug grin tugged at Simon's lips, filled with complacency he didn't care to hide. He bent to his knees to get a better view. "That feel good?" He cooed, briefly dipping his finger into the obvious indent of the latter's navel, before sliding down to his 'well covered' thighs, gently nudging them apart. Satisfied with Robert's needy mewling as he stroked the soft inners of his legs, the primal urge to claim the gorgeous, docile creature infront of him.
"Look at you..." he breathed, boldly cupping both palms over each of Robert's hips and squeezing. Robert's slanted, glazed eyes peered down to the man crouching on the carpet, panting lightly at all the lovely attention he was receiving. "If you were a girl..." Simon trailed off, hungrily studying Robert's new found curves. "Well...you sure Steve wasn't trying to get you fertile?" Simon's attempt of a degrading joke didn't cause Robert to recoil though. instead, a high, throaty moan came from him and Simon couldn't help but chuckle in awe of the deep scarlet blush filling his cheeks. What a strange boy he thought. "What?" Simon inquired, using Robert's thighs as a lever to pull himself up so they were face to face. Robert looked away; cowed and flushed. "Ohh..." Simon smirked as if he'd cracked an obvious code. His hand sternly gripped Robert's warm, sweat-dampened neck, causing a high whine in return. "Want me to knock you up, don't you?" He snarled; so close - so dominant, Robert could almost taste his hot, greedy breath. His cock pulsed so hard he thought he'd collapse, grabbing onto Simon's shoulder in an aroused daze. "Please..." he murmured to the other mans mouth, begging as he slipped his tongue inside.
