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In the vague recesses of his mind, he knows he should slow down, that he should breathe, that he may be making a mistake. That he should reconsider or take a step back. That he should take a walk or go back to his personal quarters to sleep away the sinking feeling in his chest.
But, at this moment, Rover doesn’t care. There is a living thing inside of him right now, a ball of panic and dread and frantic anxiety, one that makes him pace in his room for hours before finally cracking, one that makes him creep across campus late at night and knock on a door.
He is desperate to feel someone, to forget, to expel the darkness that weighs him down right now, even for a moment.
Luuk opens the door, reading glasses on, hair a little messed up, and it drives Rover even crazier. He clenches his fist at his side.
“Oh! How might I be of assistance, Lord Arbiter?” he asks, moving to let Rover in.
Rover answers by pinning him against a wall, smashing his lips into the other man’s. There is a moment where Luuk stiffens and Rover hesitates, wondering if his instinct to come to Luuk had been wrong. Then, Luuk kisses back, gently, sweetly, tongue tentatively meeting his own.
“Okay…come on then,” Luuk says, pulling back with eyes glinting with something Rover can’t quite grasp. Luuk grabs his sleeve, leading him to the bedroom in the back. The anxiety threatening to drown him bubbles over and Rover can barely wait until the door is closed before he’s tossing Luuk onto the bed, ripping clothes off as quickly as he can. In no time at all, the other man is nude, sprawled out on his back, looking up at Rover with a patience that does not match the situation at all. Rover appreciates the view for a moment before settling his body on top of the other man’s. Luuk goes limp, compliant, letting him do whatever he wants, opening himself up without hesitation to his tongue, his hands, his fingers.
His hands shake as he inserts a finger, holding himself back from doing what he really wants to do, which is take the warm body being offered to him, not even caring if it hurt the other man. The thought repulses him as soon as he has it. Rover closes his eyes, taking slow breaths and desperately trying to rein in the frantic feeling in his chest.
Luuk pulls him closer, shushing him gently. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
Rover leans his head against the man’s shoulder, letting his hair tickle his face. He smells good, a gentle scent of vanilla from soap, but also a bit of antiseptic too, which Rover finds he doesn’t mind. It’s comforting. He pushes another finger in as fast as he dares.
“I’m ready,” Luuk whispers. “Take what you need from me.”
He’s not. He can’t be. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Rover responds.
And he doesn’t, even as he trembles and aches to sink inside someone’s body, to forget, to chase a feeling other than the one that has sunk like an anchor in his soul.
Luuk spreads his legs wider, body long and slender and everything Rover wants right now.
“It’s okay…come here, my leader. Let me help.”
He should slow down. He should be patient and sweet. He should spend more time prepping and more time on literally any kind of foreplay. But he can’t. His desperation is strangling him, causing him to take Luuk at his words and wrench his fingers out.
He had tossed his jacket off earlier, but remains clothed otherwise. Fully undressing feels like a delay he can’t handle right now so he just unbuckles his pants, unzipping and feeling disgusting as he does it. This is not how he treats people he sleeps with. Though, Rover supposes he doesn’t know how he treats people he sleeps with, not really.
He teeters on the edge right now between control and frenzy, grabbing at Luuk’s hips to pull him close. Settling between Luuk’s legs, he drives his hips forward. There is an abortive thrust or two, Luuk angling his hips to help and try to find the right position.
Then, he finally achieves what he wants, what he needs, thrusting into the other man.
Luuk is warm and tight and whimpers a bit when Rover enters him, and, for a beautiful moment, he doesn’t feel anything at all but the pleasure of sinking into someone else.
Some distant part of his brain prays for forgiveness as he pounds into Luuk, incapable of going slow or being gentle. That isn’t what this is about. It’s about…about…
A hand firmly tugs at his hair. “Stop thinking,” Luuk whispers breathlessly in his ear.
He shakes his head, clearing it, embarrassed. He needs to focus on Luuk right now, from his subtle smell to his surprisingly smooth skin. To the way he feels underneath Rover, to the breathless little whimpers that occasionally emerge from his throat as Rover hammers into him. He stops thinking, stops feeling anything but the man in front of him. Rover leans forward, nipping at his perfect collar bone, sucking on the slender white column of his neck.
Rover is pleased that Luuk’s hard, that at least the other man is getting something from this. He runs a hand down Luuk’s hip, to his thigh, slowly to his calf and then wraps a hand around his ankle. His legs are so long that he looks almost gangly underneath him, needing to fold himself in half a bit to allow for this position. Rover loves it, loves every inch of his legs.
He moves his hand upward again, bringing it behind Luuk’s knee and pulling upward. Luuk shifts and the angle allows him to reach even deeper. Luuk moans loudly, the first Rover’s heard tonight. It provokes him, pushes him to thrust harder, to give into the wild animal in him that needs this release, this distraction from his complete and utter failure.
He isn’t going to last. There is nothing in this world that could get him to last at this moment.
He starts to pull away, realizing only now that he didn’t even consider wearing a condom. He’s met with arms wrapping around his shoulders and a leg wrapped around him, keeping him anchored in place.
“My lord, please…”
Luuk’s legs wrap tightly around him and he knows what’s being asked and he also knows he shouldn’t, but there isn’t a force in the world that could stop him when Luuk looks up at him with a face so soft it makes him want to cry.
Rover comes, finishing inside, holding himself flush while shaking through the aftershocks. Luuk strokes his back through it, willing to be the receptacle of all of Rover’s failures and pain and mess. He goes limp for a moment, reveling in the feeling of Luuk laying his head on his shoulder.
Another issue makes itself known, however.
Luuk had not finished. Rover immediately backs away, running a hand down the reddened skin of Luuk’s chest, down his stomach, downward even more, then leans over.
“You don’t have to…” Luuk says, realizing what he is about to do.
Rover isn’t exactly sure what type of person he is, but he knows that if someone is nice enough to let you inside them, then they deserve to come too.
He does not bother to answer verbally. Instead, he wraps his hand around Luuk’s dick, kissing the tip before wrapping his lips around him. He sucks, swirling his tongue around the head, on the underside, just how Luuk likes it.
Just how Luuk likes it.
How does he know?
But he does. Luuk moans and squirms, and Rover drinks up the noises, ready to see it to completion, to give something back after only taking. Instead, his head is pulled firmly off by Luuk’s hand as Luuk spills across his own chest with a cry.
Rover frowns. “I would have…”
“I know, but it’s…” Luuk’s hesitates, looking to the side, not meeting Rover’s eyes.
My leader.
Not leader of the black shores. Not just leader. My leader.
Rover stands up quickly, clenching his hands. “Hold on a second. I’ll be right back.”
He walks to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and some wipes, taking a moment to steady himself in the quiet of the bathroom. Luuk is still lying there when he returns, one arm thrown over his eyes.
Rover begins wiping him, cleaning his spend, frowning at the bites on his neck.
“We’ve done this before,” Rover says quietly.
There is a moment of silence. “We have.”
“How many times?”
Luuk laughs. “Does that matter?”
“You said we were friends.”
“So to speak.”
“We were more than friends.”
“Perhaps more. Or perhaps less.”
My lord.
Rover doesn’t like it. An unsettling feeling creeps across him now that he’s had his release.
“You can sleep here. You look exhausted.” Luuk gets up like he’s about to leave his own bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“Couch?”
Rover shakes his head, grabbing his hand. “Stay?” He should say more, about how if anyone is sleeping on the couch its him, or maybe he should just leave, or maybe Luuk should never, ever call him his Lord again. But, for right now, sleep is already pulling him under. He needed the welcome stillness of sleep right now more than anything else.
He doesn’t think he imagines the look of relief crossing Luuk’s face. “Of course.” The other man carefully climbs back into bed, hand close to Rover’s, but not quite touching him.
They need to talk, Rover thinks. Actually talk. Not just vague non-statements.
But he can’t fight the rollercoaster of exhaustion and emotion he felt for the last day or two. Sleep claims him sooner rather than later.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning Rover wakes alone. He quickly gets ready and walks toward the living room. He opens the door just a crack and sees Luuk standing, gazing out the window, arms crossed over his chest. There is a brief moment before Luuk hears him and Rover is able to observe Luuk as he is rather than as he wants to be.
He trusts Luuk, mostly, but he also knows that there is a layer of performativity to everything he says and does. He’s keeping information from Rover and he’s always careful about what he says and does, except for certain slips.
My lord.
At this moment, the veil of performance seems lifted from Luuk. His face seems remarkably unguarded, staring out the window, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders, wearing an angry, complex facial expression, one that seems to look beyond the view of the window into history itself. But, also more importantly, Luuk looks sad.
“Is everything okay?” Rover asks, fully opening the door and walking over. “Are you okay?”
Immediately, the veil lowers again and Luuk’s smile returns. It’s like watching a door slam shut. “Everything’s fine!” he turns abruptly. “Should I make us breakfast? I don’t have much. I can get delivery for you?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m not hungry. Look, last night…I’m sorry.”
It’s only slight, but Luuk’s shoulders fall just a bit before he straightens back up.
Rover readjusts. “I’m not sorry it happened. I enjoyed myself. It’s just…I feel like I used you because I was upset and that’s not fair.”
Luuk perks up. “Lord Arbiter, trust me, I am here for you in any capacity you need.”
Rover searches his face. What exactly were they to each other? Why won’t Luuk tell him?
Luuk turns, putting his gloves on, perfectly easygoing and relaxed now that Rover is in the room.
“I will always be here for you, however and whenever you need me.”
Rover shakes his head slowly, opening his mouth before being cut off.
“Now, my shift starts in a few minutes. You can lock up when you leave. Feel free to use anything you want,” Luuk says, smiling.
“We should talk,” Rover answers.
“Of course. You can come find me anytime.”
The sound of Luuk moaning in his ear feels like a dream or like it was someone else compared to Luuk’s professional, detached, polite demeanor now. Rover hates it. He also suspects that Luuk’s version of “come find me any time” to talk really means that Rover would only receive vague statements and double talk if he did try to press for information.
Why won’t Luuk talk to him?
Rover looks slowly around the now empty and largely sterile living quarters before taking a seat. He puts his head in his hands and tries to pull himself together.
Rover doesn’t really know who he is, but he also senses, or perhaps even knows, that he may have just done something very cruel.