#bet you didn’t think you’d be getting walked in ON by jens huh robbe

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

is this considered sexual content? the mild kind maybe? this is the content warning just in case haha

Tuesday, 21:21

Song: Christian French - head first

Sander follows Robbe into the hallway without a thought, heart thumping as Robbe smiles secretly over his shoulder. He’d tugged Sander away in a quiet, sneaky manner, and neither of them talk now as they creep along. Robbe stops at a door, however, and turns around to face Sander first, drawing him down into a hard kiss. Sander hums in pleasure, opening up to the younger boy and letting his hands find their spot on his hips. He steps closer, backing Robbe up against the door. It makes Robbe laugh, and then he fumbles blindly until he finds the door handle, letting it swing open behind him.

He pulls Sander in after him, their lips never once detaching. Then Robbe’s closing the door and backing Sander up and their previous position is suddenly reversed. Sander shivers as his back hits the wood and Robbe boxes him in, laying an arm by Sander’s head and keeping the other hand on the back of his neck, slipping a leg between Sander’s.

Sander’s hum comes out as more of a moan, this time, but it would be more embarrassing if Robbe didn’t simply respond in kind, licking his way past Sander’s lips. Sander lets his hands slip down, just a little to start with, pinkies brushing over the top of Robbe’s back pockets. Robbe nips at his lip in retaliation, but he’s grinning as he steps back and pulls Sander with him once more.

The shock of the sudden distance surprises Sander into looking around and finally recognising their surroundings. His eyes go wide, but by then Robbe’s already pushing him onto the bed and following him down.

“Wait,” he protests, even though that’s the last thing he wants to do with Robbe now straddling him. But he recognises the glasses on the nightstand and the skateboard in the corner and alarms are blasting in his brain. Robbe stops instantly, stilling his hands and his weight as he stares down at Sander. “Jens‘s room? Are you kidding?”

Robbe raises his brows, tilting his head in a manner that is much too adorably innocent for the current situation. “Do you want to go back out? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…”

Sander stares at him incredulously for a moment, then squishes his cheeks. “Dummy,” he murmurs, then tries again. “Jens’s room. His bed. Where he...does things.”

Robbe widens his eyes exaggeratedly. “You mean sleep?” he whispers, mock aghast.

Sander shoves him.

“No, wait,” Robbe protests, laughing and clinging to Sander’s shoulders to stop himself from toppling. “Relax. You’re not gonna catch any Jens germs.”

“How do you know?” Sander demands. Then he narrows his eyes. “Or maybe that’s what you want.”

Robbe’s nose wrinkles, and he lets out a tiny incredulous laugh. “What?”

“Ah, ah, come on, don’t tell me Jens’s bed hasn’t come up in your fantasies before.”

“Oh, gross, Sander, it’s been years,” he whines. “Are you never gonna let that go?” When Sander merely stares up at him, maybe a little petulantly, Robbe pokes his cheek and lowers his voice as he kisses Sander’s nose. “I’m in here with you,” he points out. “That’s the only constant in my fantasies. Honestly, I feel like the surroundings are even more reason for you to feel smug about it.”

Well.

He’s not wrong.

Sander still narrows his eyes a little more. “Okay, fine, that’s not even the point. What about our germs?”

That startles a laugh out of Robbe, even as a flush creeps up his neck and he pinches Sander’s shoulder. “Sexy,” he teases. Then he takes a moment to actually consider before leaning down close to Sander, letting their lips ghost together teasingly in a very familiar move. “Guess we’ll just make sure we don’t leave any.”

His voice is still low, but his eyes are light as he raises a coy brow, and Sander can’t protest any more. He tugs Robbe down and instantly goes about getting a groan out of him. It doesn’t take long, and then Robbe is giving him a heated look and taking over. His lips move across Sander’s jaw and throat, his angel necklace falling against Sander’s chest as his hands slip under Sander’s shirt, and then everything’s a flurry of clothes and kisses.

Sander has managed to divulge Robbe of his shirt, as well, by the time Robbe’s hand finds its way into his hair and tugs. It’s punctuated with a sharp suck over his pulse, and he bites down hard on his lip to muffle the sound that’s punched out of him. His hair has grown out enough by now for Robbe to easily thread his fingers in, to clench them around a fistful at any given moment—usually when Sander is least prepared for it.

It’s clear, by now, that Robbe knows exactly what he’s doing.

But despite Robbe’s ability to take him apart with everything the boy knows he likes and well-practiced skill, Sander can’t help releasing a breathless laugh as Robbe settles eagerly at his nipples. The sound also falls apart quickly when Robbe actually sets his mouth to work, however, going so far as to look smugly up at Sander through his lashes.

“Tease,” he mutters. Robbe’s hum reverberates through his whole chest as his hands now tangle themselves in Robbe’s curls. He can’t help letting one curl around Robbe’s ear, brushing his thumb over the lobe before gently tugging Robbe’s earring. Robbe’s startled breath morphs into a sigh that gusts over Sander’s skin, and Sander squirms in his impatience. It isn’t, however, in any way unpleasant, and he’s the farthest thing from annoyed. It’s so enjoyably infuriating that he does feel like crying in relief when Robbe finally tugs his jeans down around his thighs, though.

Sander sinks back into the pillow with a sigh, thighs clenching on either side of Robbe as the boy’s fingertips graze his hip bones to curl around the waistband of his underwear. He breathes slowly, one hand grasping at the sheets now with the other still lightly cupping Robbe’s head. He lowers it to mouth at Sander, and Sander makes a noise that is definitely not needy or anything like a whimper.

Then sound floods into the room and shatters the atmosphere like a broken glass, with a wide-eyed, swearing Jens as the culprit.

Robbe squeaks and attempts to cover Sander with his own body. “Jens,” he yelps. “Get out!”

But Jens is already backing away with his hand over his eyes, curses growing more colourful as he slams the door and calls, “Sorry,” in the same hopelessly embarrassed tone. “No, wait, Robbe, what the fuck?”

Robbe groans where his face is now buried in Sander’s thigh, and Sander squirms at the unrelenting sensations. He doesn’t embarrass easily, but, well.

This is really quite a lot.

“Jens, fuck off!” he shouts.

“No, you assholes, that is my room. You’re not having fucking sex on my bed. You’re not fucking on my bed! Get out, seriously, Robbe…”

Sander is going to kill him. It doesn’t matter if they bonded, or if Robbe would be upset, or whatever. He is a fucking disaster and he is going to die, at Sander’s hands. “It’s my birthday,” he calls back, which should really be an unnecessary reminder, but hopefully work to guilt Jens in his favour.

It does not work. “It’s my fucking bed! I have to sleep there later!”

“Well,” Robbe pipes up, surprising them both enough that neither snaps back. He’s looking up at Sander with a hint of his cheeky grin, even though he’s flushed right down to his collarbones. “Feel free to come in here and put a stop to it.”

Sander’s eyes widen, and then he beams and tugs Robbe up to him so he can kiss his cheek, and they wait.

“You can’t be serious,” Jens says finally.

“Try me,” Robbe sings back.

Jens even throws in some French swears, this time. Sander barely notices, because Robbe has gone back to kissing him and the slick slide of their lips is the only sound filling his ears. He sighs as Robbe strokes over his cheek and deepens the kiss, the cool metal of his pendant settling at the base of Sander’s throat. He can’t help but grin when he realises the silence is only making Jens more antsy, voice nervous as he bangs on the door.

“If you want this as your birthday gift, fine then, asshole, but I’m taking mine and Lucas’s back.”

“Cool,” Sander agrees, purposefully adding a tight, throaty tone to his voice that has Robbe smacking his shoulder and Jens smacking the door. “Bye now.”

“Clean up your own damn mess or I swear,” Jens warns, with another smack to the door. “I hate both of you, oh my god.”

This time they stay still and silent for a moment, and when they finally hear Jens’s grumbling retreat, Robbe rushes over to lock the door. He looks simultaneously terribly embarrassed and shamelessly debauched, cheeks red and hair a mess, chest bare and jeans tight. It’s a sight to behold.

Sander doesn’t want to know what he looks like, spread out on the bed with only his damn jeans up to his knees.

Robbe licks his lips while looking at him, though, even as he slowly pads his way back over and tilts his head. “How much did that ruin the mood?”

Sander raises a brow. Robbe already has enough visual evidence of the truth, which is somehow ‘not at all’. Robbe flushes further in understanding, clearing his throat as he kneels on the edge of the mattress. “You?” Sander asks him.

Robbe kisses him again in response, deep and dirty, and Sander’s pulse kicks back into hyperspeed.

For about ten seconds, after which Robbe is pulling away once more and saying, “Wait.”

Sander groans, but tears his hands away from his boyfriend obediently. His voice comes out sounding a little impatient, though. “What?”

“I want to give you your present.”

“Right now?” Sander demands, blinking. “Isn’t that what’s already happening?”

Robbe has the audacity to laugh at him, though it is more of a shy giggle. “No, just…” he trails off, blushing again as he sits away from Sander. “Do you wanna…?” He gestures at Sander’s waist, and Sander buries his face in his hands.

“You’re killing me, Robbe,” he mumbles through his fingers, before obediently pulling up his pants with a quiet huff.

“Okay, okay,” Robbe laughs. “Just, here.”

He holds something out above Sander’s face, and Sander lets his hands drop. He finds himself looking at a key.

Robbe’s key.

To his house.

“What?” Sander says, lost.

Robbe looks nervous. It’s incredibly endearing, how he tilts his head and bites his lip but makes himself hold Sander’s gaze. “I obviously got you stuff too, but, that’s at home. So. I’ve just been meaning to give you this, as well, and now seemed like a good time?” He pauses. “Well, maybe not right now. Sorry.”

“Robbe. What?”

“So you can come and go whenever you need to,” Robbe says, quiet and hesitant. “If I’m not there and you want to wait for me, or if you ever need me during the night, I figured this is better than waiting for me to come let you in, just in case it’s…raining, or something.”

Sander stares at him.

Robbe’s expression drops slightly and he bites his lip. “It doesn’t mean you have to use it, obviously, just that...you can. If you want to. Mama is completely fine with it, too.”

Sander is speechless. He doesn’t think words actually exist to describe it. The...the amount of trust Robbe puts in him through this small item is ridiculous. How he had described the offer is completely insane. He’s happy to let Sander allow himself into his house in the middle of the night, simply if the desire takes him. He’s happy to give Sander, who has been labeled everything from annoying to downright crazy, the freedom of his home. His own sanctuary. He’s opening all of it to Sander with the only doubt being that Sander wouldn’t want it.

As if it isn’t the best thing anyone has ever given him.

He can’t speak, so he reaches, pulling Robbe in to offer his gratitude and reassurance and disbelief in a kiss. It’s still a hard press of lips, still hungry, but it’s slower and softer than any of the others they’ve shared tonight. It means something else, something beyond the basic desires they’d been indulging in minutes ago. It means something more.

“Robbe,” he breathes, heart fluttering at his boyfriend’s responding happy hum. “Thank you.”

Robbe strokes his cheeks so softly, and smiles so lovingly down at him, and Sander feels cracked open and laid bare beyond his near nudity. “I may have an ulterior motive,” Robbe admits. “I didn’t bring another key, so if this is to be yours, I guess I can’t get home without you.”

Sander huffs a laugh, lips spreading in a too-wide smile as he stretches up to kiss Robbe again. “Clever,” he praises.

Robbe hums again, equally pleased, and holds the key out to Sander. Sander takes it, closing his fingers around it carefully, watching the light flicker over and dip into the ridges as they press into his skin and imprint on him. He rubs his thumb over the rough metal, just admiring it for a moment, before looking at Robbe again.

He is the easiest thing to admire. He’s still flushed all down his neck, though it’s happy nerves more than embarrassment now. It’s enticing enough that Sander has to lean in and kiss the bare skin, has to feel Robbe’s heartbeat reverberating through him. He draws Robbe closer, back into his lap, into the circle of his arms, and pulls him close enough that they are entirely pressed together, chest to chest with heads tucked over each other’s shoulders. Robbe’s angel pendant presses into the skin near Sander’s own heart, which feels incredibly fitting.

“I love you,” Sander murmurs, because it’s the only thing he feels in this minute—the only thing he feels every minute, regardless of everything else.

Robbe presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I love you too. Happy birthday, Sander.” He allows Sander to hug him tighter for a moment before adding, “You should be able to find one of your other gifts now, too.”

“Find?” Sander pulls back just enough to look at Robbe quizzically. His eyes widen a fraction and he pats the pockets of Robbe’s jeans, feeling a smirk play at his lips. “Did you come prepared?”

“No,” Robbe yelps, batting him away. “You’ll have to search for it online.”

“What? What do you mean online? Do you know how vast ‘online’ is, Robbe?”

Robbe rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “YouTube, then. You have to look on YouTube.”

Sander tilts his head, baffled. “Did you rejoin a Broerrrs video?”

Robbe shrugs, all wide-eyed innocence, as if he’s not the one who put it wherever it is.

“Okay,” Sander announces. “We’re not doing anything here.”

He admits to feeling a little smug when Robbe’s face falls. “I thought you wanted to?”

“Oh, trust me,” Sander reassures, “I definitely do. But neither of us actually came prepared, and I’m realising this isn’t all I want to do to you tonight. No, we’re going to go back to yours and I’m going to find this mysterious online gift and then, then this will be made worth it.”

Now Robbe’s wide-eyed gaze holds a very different vibe, and his flush has darkened alongside his eyes, and he nods just a little too quickly. “Okay,” he agrees.

Sander grins, and does, however, spend a little more time kissing him, still clutching the key in an incredulous grip.

And, well, the thought of making out on the bed of Robbe’s old crush with Robbe is oddly satisfying. He might feel a little smug. And if it makes said crush squirm a little because he thinks they carried through on their threat with a little more commitment, well, that’s even better.

~^~

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