Work Text:
“Hey. Hey.”
Robin looks up at him, shivering. His eyes are hazy, mind making it hard to focus. Nix grabs his upper arm, pulling him forwards, one hand slipping up to cradle the back of his neck. “We’re busy. Just a little longer.”
He casts his eyes down—but he’s already on his back, so he just ends up crossing him, hoping it’s an acceptable display of subservience. “’M sorry.” Nix strokes his arm, making him shiver. He has to bite his lip so hard that he tastes blood to stay awake. The bed is warm, and soft, and it smells like his Masters, and there is nothing more he wants to do than fall back into it and rest. But he can’t, he’s not allowed, so he squirms instead and shivers. Nix keeps a hand on his cheek as he moves back.
“You’re blocking the camera,” he hears Nix say. It’s far away and hazy. Not his concern, as he blinks up at the two shadows over him. There is warmth on his cheek but he cannot fall into it because he would be bad and he would be punished no matter how much he wants it.
“No fucking reason to record it,” Slade mutters. “You have it right here. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”
“Move,” Nix tells him, and the both of them shift, Robin falling in the bed towards the center of gravity. He feels his Master’s warmth against him, leaning into it. A heavy hand spreading his thighs, pressing on the plug in his ass. He can’t help arching onto the sheets, whining, feeling it move with the seed already buried inside him. Then fingers dip into his cunt and he forgets about falling asleep as he spreads his legs. He wants to be good. This is about being good, being obedient, letting his Masters use him as he’s supposed to be used.
If being good feels good, then, well, he’s just lucky.
“Fucking slut,” Slade says, but it has no bite to it as his fingers keep moving inside with wet noises.
“Whose fault is that?” Nix mutters. Robin doesn’t hear the next words because the head of Slade’s cock is against his slit, pressing inside, buried deep. His hands fist in the sheets as he moans, hips bucking up and thighs shuddering as he lets the pleasure take him over. Slade laughs.
Robin looks back up at him when the orgasm lets him think again, curling his toes in the sheets. Slade’s fingers rub against the slick rim of his cunt, clenched tight around his cock. Robin shudders as he moves in now-oversensitive insides, blinking back tears of feeling. Nix’s brushes it away with his finger, cooing slightly.
“C’mere, kid,” he says. Nix shifts. Robin lets out a whimper as he feels Slade’s finger press in under his rim, stretching the skin further. He rarely has to take anything thicker than Slade’s cock but when he does it burns, a stretch he is not used to. He lets out a pained whine as another thick finger stretches him every wider, pressing against Slade’s cock and slowly moving deeper. Robin can only shut his eyes as tight as they will go and spread his legs to try to relieve the ache.
“Closer,” Slade says. “Here.” He pulls out just a little, the awkward angle making Robin moan with half-pain half-pleasure. His eyes narrow at Slade as his thighs shiver, wondering why Slade seems to be leaving him. When he feels so good, too.
Nix’s hand slides up his thigh, smoother, rubbing fondly at the dark bruises there. His smaller fingers shove in beside Slade’s, beside Slade’s god. Robin lets out a cry of protest, breathing through the pain and shuddering. It’s big, and there’s so much.
“Look at you,” Nix murmurs. “Shhh.” He leans over, breath hot on Robin’s face. “Look at how good you are. We’re gonna fill you right up.” He moves another finger in. Robin sniffs, hands digging into the sheets as his he tries to keep his thighs open, to let his Masters at his insides.
Every stretch aches inside him, pressing him open. All he can do is stare up at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears leaking out of his eyes. He bites his lip, because he was told to shush. It’s a relief when the fingers slip out but Robin knows—knows—that it is just preparation for something worse. He shivers.
“Slade, we’re going to—”
“Pet, do you want to be good?” Slade’s hand strokes his hip. Robin nods fervently, lip bitten raw, looking up at the familiar face as it leans over him. “You can take what we give you, can’t you?”
Robin nods again, muscles fluttering around Slade’s cock as he feels almost loose. “Yes, Master.”
“Good pet,” Slade purrs, and Robin shivers with satisfaction at being useful.
“Now give him a try.” Weight shifts and Robin braces. Fingers slip into him, holding him open, rubbing against Slade’s cock as he breathes. Tries to breathe. Tears squeeze out of his eyes as something blunt and hard presses against Slade, starting to move inside him, against his rim. He whines as it pushes in, deeper, rubbing against Slade and stretching him wider than he’s ever been. Nix moans loud and long as he presses in, against Robin’s too-dry walls. Despite the pain he can’t help but feel a burst of happiness at Nix’s pleasure, at how good he’s making him feel. He feels more full than he ever has been, stretching to take them both, inhabiting his insides like they belong there.
“Hey, c’mon,” Nix murmurs. His lips dip into the salt of Robin’s tears. Robin shivers, grabbing onto his forearms for stability as Slade starts to move. Every thrust jolts him, even though they’re slow, rubbing against his insides. Nix feels it too, gasping breath hot on Robin’s face. He twitches, hands on Robin’s side, his own hips twitching.
“Don’t spoil it,” Slade grumbles.
It’s too much. They start slow but get slicker, moving faster against each other and in him. Some of it feels good and some of it hurts but all of it is so much, deep and opening him up and moving, asynchronous. Robin can only pant as they move in him, his legs open for them to have him, pushing him to the side to take their pleasure.
“Fuck,” Nix hisses, moving faster—then outpaced by Slade, as if they’re racing, Robin clinging ever tighter to Nix as he whimpers. It’s too much, so much, hands going white-knuckled as he loses himself to pleasure and a long reedy moan. He can only sob after, pressed into the bed by the both of them, pressing against his oversensitive insides.
“S’good,” Nix murmurs, “Good boy. Robin. Good.”
Robin doesn’t know the word but he knows when he’s being referred to, whines and clings as Nix’s hips snap into him, not quite bottoming out as Slade fucks him too. The senseless noise drips from Robin’s lips as he feels himself being used. The wet noises are eclipsed by nothing until Nix is buried in him, gasping loud. He’s finished in Robin, dripping out his seams and down his thighs.
Slade still moves. Robin’s sobs are louder now, but Nix is leaning over him, petting his hair and cooing things Robin can’t hear. He whimpers, still full, Slade still fucking him, harder and deeper. Wet noises fill the room, Nix still grunting before Slade comes, just as hot, and Robin feels more filled than he ever has.
Nix kisses him and Robin arches up into him, shivering from the pleasure that pools in his gut. It feels good, to be full. To be useful. Slade rubs his hips, digs fingers into his ribs, cock still lodged in his wet hole.
Robin’s fingers are peeled off of Nix’s forearm. “What the hell is this?” Robin sobs, feeling Slade begin to bend his fingers back. He’s sorry. He’s wrong, he knows he is, and he opens his mouth to beg for punishment but Nix’s voice is low when he chimes in.
“I let it do that. Chill. It makes him feel better.” Slade bends his finger back until Robin cries out but doesn’t break it and Robin is grateful. He would have deserved it to be broken. Deserved to be hurt. Robin runs fingers over Nix’s forearm and wonders if it will be bruised and sobs at the though.
Nix’s larger fingers take his. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have let you if it bothered me. I’m fine, see?” He holds up his forearm and Robin looks away, ashamed, sniffing. Nix sighs. Slade has already moved on.
“Told you it could take it.” He shoves two fingers in his cunt and Robin whimpers as Slade’s hand presses him down on his ribcage, filling him up more. This is how he’s useful, how he’s good, how he can be . . . worth something. Instead of being bad and hurting Nix. He doesn’t deserve how Nix touches him gently, now. He spreads his legs further, trying to make him feel good, to apologize.
Nix kisses him again, quickly on the lips. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” Slade’s fingers move and Robin gasps, but he still feels filthy.
They slip out and Slade’s cock impossibly starts moving again. Robin whines. Nix makes a displeased noise.
“Slade, you don’t have to—”
“You’ll be good for us, won’t you, slut?” Slade asks. His hand is on Robin’s collar bone now, close to his collar. “Apologize and keep your hands to yourself?”
Robin seizes on the opportunity to redeem himself. “Master, please, I’m sorry, thank you Master.” He looks desperately at Nix as he says the last part. Nix strokes his hair.
“Good boy,” Nix tells him as he starts to move again, ready to fill his body again with his seed, to use Robin like he knows he is meant for.
He’s stuffed with them, with their pleasure, and Nix smiles down at him and even Slade’s lips have a quirk to them as he starts to snap his hips. Robin shifts slightly, mewls as he buries himself further in the sheets, the both of them using him. Making him useful.
Making him good.