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Heard wakes not with a gasp but with his heartbeat hammering in his chest, his throat. Silent.
His panic is strictly controlled; undetectable to prying eyes; to supervisors looking for an excuse to deny his promotion to Deep Blue. Or, it would have been undetectable to anyone other than Agent Squire, whose head now rests on Heard’s sternum. The flex of a hand on the bare skin of his waist almost startles a noise out of him, but Heard is well trained to remain impassive in even the most unusual of circumstances.
He takes a deep breath in through his nose and holds it before allowing himself to tilt his head enough to see what he can of the remains of Agent Squire’s tight curls, cut short; a dark brown fuzz to disguise the portion that had been singed in the casino fire. Hector, he asked me to call him Hector . Heard’s heartbeat feels somehow heavier now. Not the flying panic that he occasionally experiences without warning, but something new, both horrifying and strangely pleasant.
Hector shifts in his sleep, the hand on Heard’s waist an anchor that he uses to draw himself flush against Heard. His skin is cool and calming; soft belly and a thigh coarse with hair that slides over and hooks between Heard’s legs. Having spent his adulthood (and childhood too, if he’s honest) in nearly complete solitude, Heard is awed that rather than the feeling of confinement he’d always imagined interpersonal mingling to bring, he feels… comfort, in a way. The weight of Agent Squire slows his racing heart like a blanket thrown over a birdcage.
Only, Hector would never shield Heard from the world. Rather it’s that he’s drawn Heard out into it, taken Heard’s cage away completely and.. He scowls at the ceiling, that’s a terrible metaphor. One doesn’t become a poet by proximity, it seems. His face heats at that thought: proximity.
He and Hector had slept together the night before. Or, not literally. Sleep had only just begun when one of Heard’s unknowable, forgotten nightmares woke him. Carefully, Heard presses his palm flat against Hector’s back, allowing the abrupt bump of a mole on the otherwise smooth expanse to ground him in the present. I am not being watched. I do not belong to the concern any longer; they have no control here; not over me, not anymore.
Hector mumbles in his sleep and turns his face into Heard’s collarbone, warm breath on bare skin and Heard thinks I can touch him, here. he applies pressure to Hector’s lower back and is rewarded with a pleasant humming sound and a slow roll of Squire’s hips against his side. He’d slept with Agent Squire . there’s not one layer of fabric between them, and Squire, Hector , had stripped them both (Heard, shamefully, had been too shaking to manage a single button. Hector had held his hands in his and soothed Heard as though he was a frightened animal before effortlessly opening his dress shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. A too-gentle smile and a quick dip of Squire’s head to kiss the place over Heard’s heart)
Heard’s breath becomes an arrhythmic staccato as the sense memory of the evening washes over him. overwhelmed, he doesn’t register himself growing hard until Squire makes a questioning noise and palms over him as if already knowing the answer. Heard startles, reflexively pushing into the light caress of Squire’s shockingly-rough hand with a gasp that he manages to cut short by at least fifteen milliseconds.
it’s not quick enough to hide from Agent Squire, but then Squire had always been a point of weakness in Heard’s meticulously maintained facade. Squire ( Hector, he asked me to call him Hector) , huffs out a sleep-slowed laugh and sits up just enough that he’d be meeting Heard’s gaze if not that his eyes clearly hadn’t adjusted to the dark of the room yet. Something like a sudden heartburn blooms hot in Heard’s chest at the sight of Hector squinting up at him.
With a voice that makes Heard want to pass him a glass of water, Hector says “Insomnia again? I had hoped that I might be able to help with that,” and gives Heard a light squeeze before drawing his hand away, taking with it a tension along Heard’s spine that had been building from the prolonged contact, “But such things are rarely that simple, I suppose. Was worth a try though.”
“Did you… to help with my insomnia?”
Hector hums and smiles almost at Heard before resting his head again, so that when he speaks the warm air of it makes Heard shiver, “No, I’m afraid I’m not self sacrificing enough to fuck a man just to get him to sleep through the night.” Heard shudders at Hector’s choice of words; he knows the phrase is used broadly but Heard is also acutely aware that he’s never participated in any fucking, at least not in the traditional sense. “No, Robber, I'm afraid I'm much more selfish than you’ve given me credit for.” Hector places a single kiss on Heard’s pulse point before showing him mercy by moving to the opposite side of the bed to sit up against the headboard, “I've often wondered how things may have been if we’d met under different circumstances.”
“Different circumstances. Like what?”
“Oh I don’t know,” Hector yawns, “Outside of The Concern, for one.”
Heard doesn’t say I don’t know who I am outside of The Concern . He says, “I would have been too boring for you, without The Concern. An accountant, maybe. A paper pusher.”
Hector laughs and turns on the bedside lamp before grinning at him, “ Never . The Concern didn’t make you interesting, Robber-“
“Please, Hector, call-“
“-Can’t you see how they’ve stunted you? You weren’t born a company man." The light beyond Hector is too bright for his eyes, which is definitely what causes Heard to look away. Hector continues without comment, and says pointedly “I think you were seduced ” a pause long enough for Heard to squirm in, “by the promise of forbidden knowledge. That you gave up everything for the chance to see what nobody else was allowed to.”
Hector chuckles and pushes at Heard’s shoulder. Heard feels himself stiffen in response, an automatic resistance to being moved. Hector squeezes his arm and says in the emphatic voice of the preacher from the radio, “You’re a sinner , Mr. Twig. I think that had I met you when I was a younger man, and you , without molding yourself to their rules… ”
Hector’s hand trails from Heard’s shoulder up his neck, touching his jaw to draw Heard’s attention back, as though he’d ever lost it. Ghosting his calloused thumb over Heard’s lower lip, he says “I think that we would have done this much sooner.” He draws back to his side of the bed again, leaving Heard breathless, “And I think you..or I have in the past imagined , to be clear, Heard, ” Heard has to fight himself not to avert his eyes when Hector’s voice drops low, half seduction and half humor, “In that hypothetical version of reality you would have been the one pursuing me.”
To this Heard frowns, “But Agent Squire -Hector- I did do that. You were supposed to be dead, but I found-“
Hector’s face softens in a way that stops Heard short, bringing a flush of embarrassment and the first pin-pricks of a cold sweat to the back of his neck, “No. Not like that. I… wouldn’t have chosen to put you in that position.” With a crooked grin that shows several uneven teeth, he adds, “It was an innuendo, Heard. Poorly executed.”
“Oh,” Heard’s fingers have gone numb with nervous energy and he nearly reaches for Hector, “You…It would have been executed perfectly, if I were the person you described. He would have got it right away.”
Hector takes Heard’s hand from where it hangs in the air between them, limp with uncertainty. He brings it to rest on his chest where Heard can feel the steady beating of his heart, “That person was nothing but an inappropriate fantasy for lonely nights, Heard.” He slots their fingers together, “. . .this has been a very long way of saying that I’m here now, sharing this bed with you, because it’s something I’ve wanted for quite a while.” A squeeze that’s warm but uncomfortable, Heard’s fingers too bony for the intended effect, “And that fixing your insomnia was only a secondary..or even tertiary motivation.”
“Oh.” says Heard
“Oh,” Hector echoes with a small knowing smile that draws Heard in, almost more than the hand that tugs him over to Hector. The hand that keeps on tugging even as their lips meet, until he’s straddling Hector’s thighs, wobbling unbalanced dangerously close to the edge of the bed but unwilling to stop just to shuffle towards the center.
Their kiss is slow, relaxed compared to the frantic newness of the evening prior. This gives Heard the space to think, to analyze and focus in on his inadequacies. Stunted. Hector had said he was stunted and Heard knew that to be the truth. He feels Hector’s hands come to rest on his knees, running up and down his thighs. Again, as if Heard was a frightened animal. I am. He’s right, I'm terrified. I have no idea what I'm doing. And so Heard uses a skill he knows he is proficient at, and assumes a false identity.
His transformation is marked by a frustrated groan into Hector’s mouth. One, two, three deep breaths, and now he’s the man that Hector had…had fantasized about. Robber Twig; keep only the most reckless parts of himself, find the motivations of the character, and act with a confidence not his own. Robber, according to Hector, would have taken the lead rather than wait for a cue from his former mentor.
And so when Heard has to catch himself from falling off of the creaky hotel bed for a fourth or fifth time, he sits back and allows himself a moment to take in Hector’s face, soft with mild curiosity and amusement; committing it to memory as insurance for the potential where he fails this next mission and never sees Hector in this context again. But it’s the split second of disappointment on Hector’s face that had come before this, whenHeard had pulled away from their kiss, that encourages him to follow through with Robber’s half formed plan.
Step one: physically roll them both to the center of the bed. Despite his height, Heard is well aware that his sharp features and long thin hands give the impression that he’s skin and bone beneath his herringbone suit. But he was a field agent on track to be given Deep Blue clearance. They don’t allow that sort of information into the hands of people that can be easily overtaken. That requirement can be met in any number of ways, but Heard was more than able to qualify via the traditional physical route. Heard knows that of anyone, Agent Squire is the least likely to be taken off guard by a show of strength, but Robber wants to try anyway - if only for the thrill of hearing Hector’s surprised laugh.
Step Two: position himself between Hector’s legs and kiss him breathless. If Heard is the one who has to break away with a gasp when Hector drags his nails across Heard’s back, then that’s just a concession Robber will have to make. Impulsively, he rolls his hips forward and evens the playing field as the sudden friction leaves both men momentarily dazed.
Step Three: take advantage of Hector’s distraction to move down his body, and … and perform oral sex? He makes the trip down alright, but faced with Hector’s half-hard erection (dark, uncut. the hint of a shining glans beginning to peek out of his foreskin) Heard, Robber , hesitates. He expected this part to be intuitive, and to some extent it is, but where to start?
They had touched one another the night before, sure, but it had been mostly Hector and entirely hands. Worse, his only direct experience with this had been over a decade ago; a mortifying encounter with a woman that had left Heard unsatisfied, uncomfortable, and convinced he simply wasn’t interested in sex. But then he had met Hector, and the experience of lust as overheard being discussed in locker rooms by peers with too little self control suddenly sounded less like lies made up exclusively to promote social cohesion.
And now here he is, years after having accepted celibacy in the absence of Agent Squire’s attention ( inappropriate, fraternization; if they’d have had the opportunity it would have been wrong to do anyway), with no concept of where a mouth might go that didn’t have the distant memory of unwanted lipstick and cooling saliva attached to it.
He’d hesitated too long. Hector has begun to soften, and the light touch of fingertips on his cheek snaps his attention back where it belongs. The playfulness has almost entirely dropped from Hector’s expression, and his speech is slow and deliberate when he says, “Heard, you don’t have to push yourself. We can take it slow.” He looks at the state of them both, Heard’s hair a mess of gray spikes and no clothes to be seen, and chuckles, “Slow er , anyway.”
Hector’s hand cups his cheek and Heard, Robber , allows himself the indulgence of turning into it, enjoying the way the edges of calluses catch on his stubble as Hector continues, “there’s no protocol for things like this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone by moving faster than you’re ready.”
Somewhere in his mind Heard wants to appreciate the sentiment, but over top of it all he hears the word stunted and resolves to take Hector into his mouth. Robber doesn’t panic at just how flaccid Hector has become (though Heard’s heartbeat increases significantly, confident it’s a sign that he's already ruined this), and instead takes advantage of the ease at which he can roll his tongue around the whole of it.
With his nose pressed into the soft flesh and wiry hair of Hector’s lower belly, Robber tentatively applies suction, the vacuum sealing Hector between the flat of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Nervously* (* intentionally - Robber would know to do this ) he swallows, the simple action of it working his tongue over Hector.
Hector flinches and his fingers drop away from Heard’s face where they’d still been resting as though Hector had been considering pushing him away. He swallows again and suddenly Hector is quite a bit heavier on his tongue. He feels the shake of Hector laughing and distantly hears, “ Well . If you insist. ”
So Heard does his best to be insistent. Hector fills out alarmingly fast (Heard is of course familiar with the process but it’s something else entirely to observe it so intimately from the outside), and soon Heard can’t rely on the relatively easy task of holding Hector’s flaccid penis in his mouth. He finds that he almost can’t open his jaw wide enough to take him at all, but Robber does his best.
Eventually the hand returns, smoothing down his hair before ruffling it again. Gripping and bracing against Heard’s skull to pull sharply without actually moving him away from Hector’s body. Heard is surprised that it feels good, and in the moment when he pauses to realize he likes it, would like it to happen again, Hector’s voice breaks through a haze he hadn’t realized he was floating through.
It praises him, tells him he’s doing good; that for Hector he’s, personally, been good. Heard knows that this is at least half a lie: there’s no universe in which his clumsy attempts could be interpreted as skillful - but Hector is right to think that Heard is being good for him. Heard would be anything for him.
Anything including Robber Twig, a man he might have been. Robber Twig who believes Hector Hu when he tells him he’s more than proficient at his current task. Robber Twig who takes this encouragement and runs with it. Heard considers Robber’s options, pulls away to assess Hector’s expression and is almost grateful that Hector’s eyes are closed, suddenly self conscious of how wet his mouth and chin are. But Robber wouldn’t think twice about it; perhaps he’d luxuriate in being made a mess, even.
Heart thudding in his chest, Robber takes Hector in hand and waits. Hector, predictable in his curiosity if nothing else, slowly blinks open his dark eyes as if having to manually focus them on Heard. Once Robber has his full attention, but before Hector can say anything, he dips his head and takes as much of Hector as his body will allow.
The urge to cough is strong, but Robber’s a stubborn man, Heard decides, and he holds himself there until his eyes are watering and he can feel Hector’s belly tremble from the effort of holding still. His nostrils flair and he fills his lungs with air before pushing himself further onto Hector.
Robber is an impulsive, stupid man.
Heard doesn’t even get the chance to feel satisfied by the low groan he’s wrung out of Hector before he gags. Then he’s head down against Hector’s hip, alternating between gasping for breath and desperately swallowing the saliva that’s flooded his mouth.
Hector sits up and gives him space that he doesn’t want, but the hand on his back is a comfort, and when he eventually feels well enough to look up, Hector is studying his face - stops him from trying to wipe it clean. His already dark eyes are black now, and he’s still hard, so Robber judges the maneuver, technically, a success.
Then, despite his obvious arousal, Hector frowns and sends mixed messages as he brushes a thumb across Robber’s cheek and says, “Heard… you didn’t have to do that.” His thumb presses in, rubbing a small circle into Heard’s temple, “It was too much.” A lopsided grin as he scans Heard’s ruined face, “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort.”
Where Heard would be cautious, Robber is reckless; so he meets Hector’s eyes briefly before turning to catch Hector’s thumb in his teeth. There’s a quick inhalation and a mumbled, “What’s gotten into you?” as Robber closes his lips around it and sucks. He traces the edge of a rough callous with his tongue, slowly pulls away until his lower lip just barely brushes the pad of Hector's thumb.
His eyes drift closed, struggling to balance how completely ridiculous he feels and the confusing desire for more when Hector drags his thumb down, pulling Heard’s lip with it and causing what saliva had gathered to run over his chin. He shudders, imagines Robber explaining that this must be erotic, somehow, and opens his eyes in time to see Hector leaning in to kiss him.
Heard is too overwhelmed by the desire for contact to worry about the state of his face, and finds himself pushing Hector back into the bedding without any need for direction from Robber. He’s already breathless, and when Heard finally remembers that he’s a physical being in addition to Hector, that he can fit his body against Hector’s , their kissing quickly becomes desperate - more sharing air than moving against one another.
Or, not moving with mouths.Their first time had been relatively restrained; their bodies nearly still as Hector’s hand worked them both. But Robber isn’t patient enough to learn how to use his hands effectively, and Heard wouldn’t willingly allow space enough for that anyway. Hector’s hands are on his back, encouraging, and Heard would like nothing more than to share bodies, to press and slide and feel Hector shaking with the effort of pressing back until they simply phased into one another.
Robber, a vulgar man, suggests several ways for them to join bodies and Heard experiences the most intense wave of arousal as his hips stutter with the barrage of images Robber has conjured up. But he’s too aware of how tight the space between their bodies is, so much so that his skin catches and pulls his foreskin back with each forward motion, exposing his glans to Hector’s wiry body hair and it’s too much - too much -
Until the hand on his lower back guides him to reposition and they slide together in the soft hollow below Hector’s belly. The sensation is less intense, but there’s no sharp edge of pain to distract from the pleasure building in him.
They continue until Heard is making embarrassing sounds, cheek helplessly plastered to the side of Hector’s face by sweat. Then Hector’s hands move again, guiding him to shift down farther between Hector’s legs until Hector has room to lift his hips and grind up against Heard suggestively.
Heard can hear his own heartbeat, can barely speak, “H-Hector, I don’t - we don’t - don’t we need - ah,” Hector rocks against him. It’s difficult to think between the anticipation and the panic, “- Don’t we need some sort of lubrication?” Christ, he’s such a square. Lubrication?
Hector laughs and taps at Heard’s knee until he lifts it enough that Hector can bring his legs together. Heard awkwardly straddles him, is confused until Hector guides Heard into the space between his thighs and squeezes . Hector clarifies, laughter still in his voice, “An intermediate.”
“Oh!”
“Oh,” the soft smile again.
Cautiously, Heard fucks ( fucks, this is an intermediate to fucking, Hector wants me to-) into the space where Hector’s thighs and body meet. The position is awkward, and it’s a little dry, but it’s good, too - it’s so good - and when he flexes forward he slides against Hector’s hole - and Hector is holding him close and breathing encouragement into his ear - and - and -
And he’s lost control; barely present enough to muffle his cry into the pillow over Hector’s shoulder as he peaks.
Heard lays panting for a blissful few minutes, until Hector shifts just enough that the head of Heard’s penis brushes against bedsheets and the mess he’s made there. But when Hector shifts he also squeezes just enough to pleasantly echo what they’d been doing moments before and Heard can’t bring himself to move.
Brain full of static, he mumbles, “Oh, the sheets..” into the nape of Hector’s neck, who shivers and clutches Heard close before chuckling.
“Lucky for us this room has two beds.” The rumble of Hector’s voice resonating between their sternums feels wonderful, but the words themselves make him burn with embarrassment and the mild panic of an agent trained to leave no evidence. And to leave this evidence - but Hector continues breezily, “We can just move to the other bed when we’re done, it’s really nothing to worry about.”
Heard holds himself up on arms that shake and threaten to fail him, looking at Hector. He swallows and says, “When we’re - We’re not done.”
He peels his body away from Hector’s, realizing in the process that Hector is still hard, “Oh - You - Of course! Here,” Heard begins to shuffle back down the bed, “Let me -“
But Hector catches him before he gets too far, slides his hands down Heard’s back to grip him by the ass and drag him back up, grinning, “No, if it’s alright with you, Heard ,” he pulls Heard apart, lightly brushing the tips of his fingers down Heard’s cleft in emphasis, “We’re not done . ”
Heard is trapped, trying to convince his jaw to unclench enough to respond in some way when Hector circles his hole, pushing in just slightly with the pad of his finger. Heard reflexively jerks away before Robber regrets it and presses back against Hector again while Heard struggles to process what’s happening and his mouth opens of its own accord to make an undignified sound.
Hector squeezes his ass with one hand and, using the flat of a finger on his other, breaches Heard shallowly; stopped only by the angle of entry. It’s a foreign sensation, but it’s one that sends a pulse of pleasure through him, too. Confused, he rocks back against it and there’s the pulse again along with a radiating warmth he inexplicably wants more of.
Hector denies him though, leaving Heard feeling shockingly bare to instead give him a sharp squeeze with both hands. A lesser man would have yelped, but Robber only whines a little bit as Hector repeats the action harder, enough that it would hurt if the hungry ache afterwards didn’t make up for it.
“Well?” Hector asks quietly, almost hesitant, “What do you think?”
Heard swallows, staring wide eyed at Hector until he becomes self conscious of how awkward this must be. He nods in affirmation but Hector doesn’t move, so on the verge of a heart attack ( 43 years old and facing this situation for the first time? Mistakes have been made ) he manages to say, “Yes, I,” a deep breath and Robber continues in a perfect approximation of Heard’s clipped cadence, “I don’t think I could fall back asleep just yet.”
There's a pause before Hector laughs, bright in the dim room.
Heard, a practical man, interrupts him, “Is it difficult?”
“No!” There's laughter in Hector’s eyes, “Nothing could be easier,” a smile in his voice and a hint of mischief in the glint of lamplight in his eye, “You just have to want it.”
Do I want it? Heard thinks on it as Hector slips off the end of the bed, leaving Heard naked and vulnerable in the cool room.
He watches Hector digging through his luggage long enough for Heard to consider pulling up the blankets. His search must be difficult, because when he finds what he’s looking for, Hector actually says “Ah-ha!” out loud before zipping things back up.
He makes it halfway to the bed before pausing and looking toward the window across the room. He says “Here, catch!” after tossing Heard a glass bottle, and instead of returning to the bed he goes to the bulky climate control unit under the window and turns the thermostat down, pausing and turning it farther until the air conditioner kicks on.
Heard is already on the cool side of comfortable, and is amazed that Hector can appear so at ease in his nudity, erection bobbing proudly as he walks, unbothered by the cool air or by Heard’s gaze.
Instead of commenting on the cold, Heard squints down at the bottle. It’s a lubricant, some sort of ambiguous-use body oil with roses on the label. Logically he’d already known what it was. But to hold it in his hands, to anticipate -
Hector says, “We’ll appreciate that later” and Heard doesn’t know if he means the oil or the thermostat. As the bed dips under Hector’s knee, Heard feels his stomach drop with it. He frowns and Hector responds to it as if it were a question, “The air. I don't want to burn up, you know.”
Heard neither knows nor asks; he just concentrates on handing Hector the bottle without dropping it. Hector sets it on the side table and gently pushes Heard back down to the mattress.
They kiss, but it’s brief. Heard feels like the last thread holding together a seam under pressure. All too soon Hector is sitting up and asking Heard to roll over, leaning to reach the side table and unscrewing the lid of his bottle while Heard lays stiff and nervous, not sure what to do with his arms.
Hector laughs a warm laugh and as he pours some oil into his hand he says, “Relax, Heard. We’ve just got to loosen you up a bit first, you’re tighter than a guitar string,” which only serves to string Heard even tighter. Hector leans over to kiss the base of Heard’s neck and murmurs, “Tell me right away if anything hurts.”
His hands are warm and so is the oil; a mild floral scnt accompanying the firm press of Hector’s palms. Heard is spread apart and he counts his blessings that he can stop himself from shaking while Hector kneads the meat of his ass.
But then the hands slide up, following his spine, one on each side with fingers splayed wide to distribute even pressure. Hector grunts a little with effort as he applies force up and out along Heard’s shoulders, down again to press into the taut muscles of Heard’s mid back. Confused, Heard makes a questioning noise, unable to put words to his anxieties.
Hector puts all his weight behind a smooth push up to Heard’s shoulder blades and Heard’s back audibly cracks. Heard loses tension he wasn’t aware he’d been carrying, and he knows he carries a lot. The next stroke is down and out to his sides; Hector’s hands finding the knots in his muscles and focusing his attention on working them out. It hurts. It feels amazing. Heard fails to notify Hector of the pain, unwilling to risk him stopping.
Hector leans down again, applying weight and kissing the sweat-soaked hair at Heard’s temple, “I told you you needed to loosen up. I want this to be good for you, too.”
The reminder that Hector plans to take his pleasure from Heard almost makes Robber dizzy with arousal. He groans and breaths out, “Oh my god” when Hector finds a particularly tender spot. It’s a stupid thing to say to a priest, but Hector only laughs.
When Heard begins to feel bonelessly relaxed Hector hooks a leg over the back of his thighs. It could be practicality - Hector’s pressure is more evenly applied to both sides of his back now, not that Heard had noticed an imbalance before. He does notice, however, the heavy weight of Hector’s erection resting against the cleft of his ass.
He thinks that he does want it after all, and when Hector leans over ostensibly to dig his thumbs into the meat of Heard’s shoulders, Robber arches his back to push his ass up and increase the pressure of Hector’s cock between them.
Hector’s hands faulter for a moment, but return to their task after a long deep inhale and a short huffed exhale. He says, “Careful, I don’t want to -” Robber rolls his hips and Hector groans, long and pained, “God grant me strength, I want to fuck you.” He sits back abruptly and the sweet promise of his cock against Heard is gone.
Heard tries to follow, but is stopped by a commanding palm on his lower back, “Don’t.” Hector lets out a shuddering breath and moves to rub circles just below Heard’s tailbone. He repeats, “I want to fuck you,” and spreads Heard bare before him for a moment before pulling away entirely to reach again for the bottle of oil.
Heard turns his face into the pillow, listening to the wet sound of Hector warming the oil in his hands and willing himself to remain calm. He swallows, tries to inhabit the roll of Robber but finds only himself, alone, as a slick finger circles him.
Hector must see or feel his shaking because he runs his other hand down Heard’s side and soothes, “You’re alright. You’re doing great.”
Heard breaths in and when he breathes out one of Hector’s fingers is inside him. He gasps more in surprise than anything else. Reflexively he clenches up and that’s when the pleasure hits him. Hector pushes in to the knuckle, quick, easy, and a soft moan escapes Heard.
Distantly he hears Hector laugh, but all of Heard’s neurons are focused on Hector inside him. Hector inside of him . He moans and breathes out, “Oh my god,” again; in awe of the circumstances of his life.
Hector says, “See? Easy as can be, as long as you want it.” he pulls out as he says it, and asks “Do you want it?” as he pushes back in.
It’s not fair that Heard should be expected to speak just then, so he breathes out a nothing-noise and rolls his hips back, pushing Hector deeper, harder. He imagines Hector’s cock inside of him instead and doesn’t dwell on how full he feels already, his previous anxiety having dissipated like it was never there to begin with.
Hector hums, curls his finger and pushes a knuckle firmly on the space behind Heard’s balls. Stars explode behind Heard’s eyes and he grits his teeth to dampen the cry torn from him by the sudden shock of pleasure that shoots straight through him.
And then the pressure and fullness is gone and he whimpers, pathetic, as Hector reaches again for the oil. He returns with the bottle in hand and spreads Heard’s cheeks to slide his cock directly against him, “Is that a yes?”
Heard nods vigorously and hears the pop of the bottle opening, feels the cold oil in stark contrast to the heat of Hector’s cock resting in the cleft of his ass. There’s a long pause before Hector firmly says, “I need you to say it, Robber.”
Too aroused to be properly mortified, Heard whines in frustration, nodding again while Hector slicks himself up. “Yes,” he gasps, lifting his hips in reckless invitation, “Please, I -” Hector’s cockhead is against him but there’s no real pressure. He whines again, tries to move but Hector has his hands on Heard’s hips, pinning him. His throat feels tight but he rasps out another “ Please ” when Hector doesn’t indulge him.
With one hand braced on Heard's lower back and the other guiding his cock, Hector huffs, “Alright,” and pushes in. It isn’t quite as effortless as taking one finger, but between the oil and the desperation it’s only a momentary discomfort as Hector breaches him, and then. And then .
Hector gives him a heartbeat to adjust, then pushes deeper. Heard hadn’t realized there was more, realizes that Hector hasn’t bottomed out yet, and collapses against the blanket with a sob. How could he take more than this? Heard feels delirious - he knows that Hector isn’t any larger than average and so his body must be able to handle it. People do this all the time. But in his mind’s eye he’s full to bursting already.
Hector shifts above him, splaying one of his legs out to give himself more leverage. He’s not really done anything intentional, but in the new position Hector's pelvis aligns with Heard’s and he slips in farther almost by accident. Hector groans and his hips twitch forward before he stills again. He asks, “Doing ok?” and it sounds like a struggle.
Heard can’t talk. He nods, hoping that Hector will accept his silent answer this time.
He does. Hector pulls out just enough that Heard can feel the beginning of loss before rolling his hips forward and grinding against the resistance of Heard’s body when he meets it. He repeats the action without retreating at all, pushing impossibly deeper into Heard; driving Heard’s hips forward and his over-sensitive cock into the bedding with the force of it.
Heard’s head is swimming. Hector withdraws slowly, letting Heard feel the beginning of the crown of his cock pulling at him from the inside before snapping his hips forward, fast and hard and unexpected. Heard feels as if the air has been punched out of his lungs, and can barely hear Hector over his own ragged breath.
Hector drapes across his back to better reach Heards ear, and repeats himself, “Still doing alright?” Heard thinks that the addition of Hector’s body weight isn’t helping his breathing, but then Hector begins rolling his hips in slow deliberate circles, and Heard’s aching pleasure grows stronger, spreads wider, with each rotation.
All he can do is gasp ineffectively and push his own hips back to meet Hector’s. There’s no more of Hector to take, but the change in angle is worth the burning lungs and straining muscles, his pleasure amplified tenfold.
It’s not long until Heard feels near to weeping. His body shakes with the effort of moving under Hector, and he’s begun sobbing a long string of pleas into the damp pillow that he would be mortifying if he could hear himself over the growing static in his brain.
Unheard and registered by Heard only for the break in contact, Hector huffs a laugh and says, “I’ll take that as a yes,” before peeling himself off of Heard. He pulls out entirely to change position, ignoring Heard’s complaining cry to kick his legs apart and stretch his own out long and straight between them.
Heard is less able to move in this position and he’d be frustrated at his own lack of leverage if it weren’t for the oxygen returning to his brain that allows him to appreciate Hector’s hum of approval as he slides back in after pouring an excess of oil over his cock. The stretch is easy, the return to fullness welcome. Heard finds himself answering Hector with a satisfied sigh before Hector pulls almost entirely out again and punches a shocked gasp out of him on the return.
Without any more warning or hesitation, Hector begins fucking Heard in earnest. He starts with a short set of sharp fast strokes that hit Heard hard before falling into a rhythm of long smooth strokes; quickly returning Heard to an incoherent sobbing mess of “ yes ” and “ please .”
He’s hard again, and between the oil and god knows what else, the sheets are almost slick beneath him. It feels too good to be upsetting in the moment; being fucked into the matress and thereby inadvertently being made to fuck the mattress.
Hector has become erratic in his movements, the push and pull of him harder to predict, harder in impact. He’s not collapsed onto Heard, but if he had the presence of mind to notice Heard would feel Hector’s arm’s shaking. If he had the presence of mind he’d be able to hear Hector’s mumbled warnings over the rushing of blood in his ears.
But he’s been reduced to a creature of sensation; aware only of movement and white-hot pleasure and a mounting need for release. When Hector slams deep and stays there the suddenly-constant pressure is almost enough to send him over the edge - But before he tips over the knife’s edge Hector pulls free and falls to the side with a strangled moan. Heard reflexively pushes back against nothing, chasing the lost pressure, but all he feels is Hector frantically fisting his own cock.
Heard gasps, “No -” Begs, “Please - I’m so -” just as Hector comes across his lower back.
Mindless in his desperation, Heard grinds his cock into the mattress, nearly sobbing in frustration. Each time he grows close to release again His hips keep jolting away from the bed with the practiced expectation of meeting Hector behind him, preventing the buildup of pressure he needs.
Then Hector’s hand is gripping his hip, and for a moment Heard reflexively resists the guiding pressure that rolls him onto his side - unwilling to lose the guaranteed friction of the sheets beneath him - but then Hector is wrapping a tight hand around Heard and pulling their hips together - pulling Heard back onto his cock.
Hector holds steady as the taller man begins to shake apart in his arms, full-body twitching forward into Hector’s fist and back onto his cock, stroking him relentlessly even as Heard spills over his hand, until he’s oversensitive and begins to curl inward on himself, gasping “enough - enough!”
Hector releases his grip on Heard’s cock but doesn’t otherwise break contact, allowing Heard to pace their separation. Heard rests for a long while, comfortable with Hector’s softening cock inside him and Hector’s forehead pressed to his back while he catches his breath.
Eventually Hector moves his hand away from Heard, laying his arm across his side instead and Heard, boneless, leans into the loose embrace, his chest heavy with sleep.
—----------
He doesn’t remember being moved in the night, but Heard wakes in the clean bed with his cheek stuck to Hector’s skin. The air conditioner is loud and constant, and so is the steady rise and fall of Hector’s chest.
Heard smells coffee and thinks that Maggie will probably be expecting them, but Hector grumbles in his sleep when Heard tries to check the time and he goes still. Hector rubs vaguely at his nose before half-stretching and rolling onto his side, towards Heard.
Heard’s awkwardly resting on Hector’s shoulder now, and Hector’s hand is hot where it comes to rest on Heard’s back, but the room is cool and Hector’s snores are soft.
Heard sleeps in for the first time in years.