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Sweet Robot	By : varenoea Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2075 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse, any of the characters, settings or plot elements. No financial profit is being made with this story.

Chapter List
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Pickles chuckled and pulled his shirt over his head. He smelled of skin and sweat and anti-perspirant, and while he was throwing the shirt over his head, he was stretching like a cat. Charles couldn’t take his eyes away from the thin red hair in his armpits. Pickles bit down on his lip and cocked his head.

“Come on, Charlie. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“You’re not naked enough”, said Charles, and grabbed the hem of Pickles’ jeans. The studded-in button was ripped off and flew somewhere else, and the zipper was nearly torn out. Before Pickles could say a thing, Charles had pulled his legs up and was pushing his jeans over his feet.

“Oh. I see. You need a good shag”, said Pickles, but Charles could hardly listen. There. Pickles’ privates. He had seen Pickles naked, of course. In the tub. Or running around in underwear. Why did he have underwear if he hardly ever wore it underneath? What a useless question. Charles dropped onto his belly and buried his nose in Pickles’ pubes. Doubtlessly fresh from the shower. Good thing.

Pickles was grinning happily. Charles began at the top of Pickles’ belly. He kissed his way down, slowly, some kisses with tongue and some just breaths. He breathed on the tip of Pickles’ cock and looked up. Pickles had closed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

He took half of the cock in his mouth, closed his lips around it and sucked his way upward slowly. He poked the slit with his tongue. He sucked on the tip, only the tip, with his lips, up and down.

Pickles’ voice was hardly more than a breath. “Oh God, Charlie… you’re good at that!”

Charles lifted his head. “If I remember correctly, you just said something about sticking your tongue in my ass a minute ago. And now you’re here, just receiving head.”

Pickles grinned his crooked grin. “Just a little longer?”

“You don’t want to come now, do you?”

“Nnno.” Pickles raked his hands through Charles’ hair. “There. I like it like this. You need some more mess in your life.”

“Eh, no, I don’t think so. Not really.”

Pickles pulled Charles up to face him and kissed him again, deeply and passionately. Charles thought he could taste Pickles’ arousal as their tongues slid along each other. He came to lie on Pickles, between his legs. Their erections were sliding along each other too. Charles felt Pickles’ hands on his own behind, and grabbed a firm hold of one of Pickles’ thighs.

Pickles poked him in the nose with a finger. “I gotcha. Hehe.”

Every sarcastic word was stuck in Charles’ throat, and it finally seemed to come through to him who was in bed here with him. A slight giddiness began to take control of his head. He dropped his forehead on Pickles’ chest and kissed the flesh like there was no tomorrow.

Pickles sighed happily, but then he shoved Charles off. “That’s enough, let me do something!”

Charles didn’t put up a fight. He felt in good hands. Pickles had him prone on the bed and was starting to bite the back of Charles’ neck tenderly. That felt good. Letting go of control. He was tired. So tired. But not physically.

Pickles was heavy on his back, his erection pushing into Charles’ buttocks slowly. He was biting Charles’ neck softly. “You gonna let me go all the way?”

“Maybe”, Charles replied with a lazy grin.

Pickles sucked and bit down hard. Charles didn’t flinch. He held still. He wanted a love bite. Or a dozen.

Pickles’ hand was stroking his balls from behind. Felt good. The thumb was brushing the line where the cheeks came together. It was getting painful to lie on that erection, and Charles had to shift and try to get comfortable.

Pickles had a hand in his hair and pulled his head back to bite him on the side of his neck. “Man, you don’t even know how gorgeous you are.”

“I don’t get told often”, mumbled Charles.

Pickles slid down lower and kissed the small of his back. “You don’t get a lot of rimming either, do you?”

“No”, whimpered Charles, trembling with anticipation, when Pickles lay between his legs and put his hands on Charles’ buttocks, and spread them. Hot breath was washing down his cleft.

Sleeping with rock stars might have some advantages. They didn’t fear the dirty stuff, it seemed.

When Pickles started running his tongue over the sensitive pucker, Charles pressed his face into the pillow and tried to worm forward. Too much. Overstimulation. He hadn’t had it in such a long time, he wasn’t sure his body could take this much good stuff at once.

Pickles held him in place. “You ain’t going nowhere, dude!”

Charles’s eyes fluttered shut. That soft, hot, wet tongue was circling, prodding, lapping, underside, upside, and then there was a little suction on the flesh around his hole – and then it was making its way inside. Charles tried, he honestly tried to loosen up, but he was too giddy to take control of these muscles right now.

This was Pickles doing this. Pickles’ nose poking into his upper ass crack and Pickles’ chin on his balls. Better not think about later, or tomorrow. Now and here, everything was alright.

Pickles’ fingers were now seeking entry. Charles swallowed. “There’s lubricant in the box under the bed”, he mumbled, and his voice cracked.

He listened to the rumbling as Pickles threw over a few boxes, let the contents fall onto the floor and finally found what he was looking for, with a victorious shout. Charles wasn’t going to be bothered by a bit of mess. Oh no. He couldn’t care less.

He idly rubbed his cock into the sheets, waiting for Charles to come back. There he was again, leaning over Charles’ back. “That’s now I like my managers. Naked, and in my bed.”

“It’s my bed really.”

“And gagged.” Pickles’ mouth brushed a point behind Charles’ ear, and then suddenly bit down on his shoulder. “Oh… and here you have rubbers! Until today, I didn’t even think you had a dick to put them on!”

“I can show you exactly how much I have, in a very physical demonstration, later when we’re done with this, and I hope you don’t try to chicken out. Things always feel a lot bigger than they loo…. Oh… oh!”

“Good, huh?”

“Oh shit yes…” Charles was writhing on the mattress while one finger gingerly slipped in and out of his ass. Slowly. “Yes… this is so nice… I haven’t had this in such a long time…” He lolled his head back against Pickles’ shoulder.

“’nother finger?”

“Yes please…”

“That flush suits you.” Pickles’ free hand carefully lifted the glasses off his face. “I can’t kiss you with that thing on. So. There you are.”

Charles turned his head towards his lover (now a blur of pink and red), and their lips crushed together again. “Fuck. I’m ready. Get it in me.”

“Oh yeah, talk dirty to me!”

“PICKLES!! I’m dying for a fuck here!”

Pickles rubbed his cheek against Charles’. “How long did you not get fucked?”

“Two years, or two and a half, what difference does it make? Just go slow, and we’ll be fine”, Charles whined.

Before he could complain any further, Pickles had stuffed both pillows under Charles’ belly. His ass was up in the air. If anybody could see him like this! About to get buggered by this little man with his ridiculous braid-over… oh yes. He wished anybody could see him like this.

He snorted when he imagined their faces.

“What’s funny?”

Charles laid his hand over Pickles’, on his hip. “Nothing. Just thinking. Everybody thinks you’re doing a dozen groupies now, and you’re really doing me.”

There was no answer. Just a wet, hot pressure against his hole. Not enough to press in, but enough to be noticed. “You have to ask nicely.”

“Please. Fuck me.”

“Nicer?”

“Please. I need it now.” Charles chuckled into the sheet as he drawled on. “Please fuck me, fill me up, rip me a new one, I don’t care, just do it, please!”

“Better.” Pickles’ hands on Charles’ hips pressed in more firmly, and slowly, the tip was easing and opening him up. He swallowed, winced a few times, but took it like a hero. He was slowly being filled, and it was too fast and not fast enough at the same time. He began pushing against Pickles on his own accord, and wasn’t satisfied until he had every inch he could get inside him, and had savoured the feeling for a while.

Pickles was breathing heavily. “Uhm. Can you please stay tight like that, always? Without not getting fucked for two years, I mean?”

“Oh, don’t worry. With that tool, I don’t see how you want to stretch me too much… uh!” Pickles had simply shoved him forward into the bed.

“We’ll see about that, my friend”, he hissed into Charles’ ear.

There was a slow trust, and another, and then faster and harder thrusting. Charles’ witty response never came out, he couldn’t have remembered it anyway, he was too busy moaning and wiggling his hips to find a perfect angle.

That little man was fucking just as energetically as he would play his drums. Charles began to fear for his vertebrae as his face was smothered in the pillow. But then there was Pickles’ hand worming through the pillows under Charles, and grabbing Charles’ cock, and then a cramp in the neck was the last thing on his mind. He leaned back into the thrusts and gasped.

“Don’t stop, right there… Right THERE!”

This sped Pickles up. Charles felt like his prostate was attacked by a battering ram. He squirmed and tried to stay in place at the same time. It was so good, it was more than he could take. He felt the wave build up in his abdomen. This was way too early to come, finally getting it from Pickles should have lasted longer in his head cinema, but now here he was, and he couldn’t hold it back. It was too good.

He slammed his hips back against Pickles and arched his back and came, letting out all the sounds in him, along with a stream of obscenities.

“It’s the quiet ones, eh?” Pickles chuckled.

While Pickles finished behind him, Charles was lying (or rather, hanging) there in perfect calm and serenity. Life was good. Pickles was fucking him, and he was spent.

Pickles’ cock inside him became rock hard, and then Pickles groaned and held still. “Oh God… oh Charles…”

“Charles is good enough at the moment, thanks.”

Pickles laughed breathlessly and slapped Charles’ backside. “I liked you better when you were sucking, that kept your mouth shut at least.” He flopped out of Charles, fell on the bed beside him, and reached out for his trousers to pull out a packet of cigarettes.

It was too good to be true. He knew his boys, and he knew their views on quick sex.

“Well then… I better get going.” Charles swallowed, rolled over and began to gather up his clothes. Not looking at Pickles. Definitely.

“Dude, this is your room.”

“Yeah, anyway… I’ve got… uhm, papers to work on.”

Pickles, the lighter frozen in his hand, was blinking at him. “What the fuck?”

“Look, we don’t need to… this was sex. You don’t have to hang around if you don’t want to.” His hands were trembling too much to button up his trousers.

On Pickles’ face, disgust was slowly rising. “Ah, so that’s what it is? You tell me you like me and shit, just to make me spread for you??!”

“As a matter of fact, I…”

“Oh shut up, you selfish prick! Just because you can have anybody, that don’t mean you can fuck with my head!” Pickles sat up angrily. “You really ARE a robot. Nobody means anything to you, right? And we’re just the people who make money that you can calculate and have your fun with? And me? Just a wham, bam, thank you mam, and then you leave?”

Charles opened his mouth a few times before he managed: “Are you really demanding your groupies to cuddle with you after sex?”

“Sometimes, but you’re not a groupie!” Pickles’ face looked so desperate and defiant. “I believed you when you said you liked me.”

Sometimes there are moments when you got yourself into a corner you can’t get out of without admitting defeat. “Think about it. You’re a rock star. Why would you fall in love with me?”

Pickles sat on the edge of the bed and looked up. “’cause you know me as I am. And you like me as I am.”

“Can’t say that you know much about me. As I am.”

Pickles’ hand reached out and pulled Charles down by the front of his shirt. “I found out a lot just now, and I want to find out much more.”

This was it. Charles’ knees got wobbly as his stomach started to spin. Pickles had captured his mouth in a kiss again before he could think.

“Come back to bed. Sweet robot, you. Thinking I don’t really like you.”

And this time, he really gave in.
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Sweet Robot