Mr. Robot, "recovery.boot" Mr. Robot/Tyrell Wellick, rated Explicit

[paynesgrey]

Title: recovery.boot (1135 words) by paynesgrey
Fandom: Mr. Robot (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Submission, Sexual situations
Relationships: Mr. Robot/Tyrell Wellick, Elliot Alderson/Tyrell Wellick
Characters: Mr. Robot (Mr. Robot), Tyrell Wellick
Additional Tags: Obedience, Blow Jobs, Consensual Kink
Summary: Mr. Robot wasn't done with Tyrell Wellick yet.

Tyrell Wellick stares out the large windows over the breathtaking view of the city. He knows he should take pleasure in it, but anger still boils inside of him and just knowing his fate is enough to strike unhinged rage in him.

As the new CTO, this large office is his reward. He has menial, management tasks that he can do during the day. It’s his choice. Mostly, Tyrell stares out the windows, thinking of plans, wondering where Elliot is, and regretting not finishing the job and punching him into a coma.

Sometimes his mind wanders to Johanna, wondering if maybe she’s still alive somewhere, that her death is one of the many lies that have been painting his world. He’s still looking for his son too, and at least that outlook is promising.

Still, he can do nothing. Even expressing his anger does little to appease him. On his first day back on the job in his new title, he destroyed many of the blase decor and items. He even tossed his laptop across the room at the window, trying to see how strong the windows really were.

When the time comes, he wonders if the windows are strong enough to take a human body with enough force to break through.

The next day his office is pristine again, with the same office items and decor like they were cloned, or he never ruined them at all. The day resets itself and even a new laptop is waiting for him, mocking him to do the menial work that is expected of him.

Life is boring, which is probably the worst punishment at all. Tyrell wonders if he would rather be in jail again or dead, but wondering about what ifs does nothing either.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely hears his secretary let the visitor in. Or, the visitor comes in and the secretary is a figment of his imagination. He doesn’t investigate. He’s staring out at the overcast. It snowed yesterday and he’s hoping for it to do so again, just so he can get lost in the shapes of falling snow and clouds that form outside his window.

“Great view,” his visitor says, and he turns slowly and sees Elliot Alderson. It’s definitely Elliot’s body, but he knows it’s the other personality. The real Elliot, the one that he’s had little contact with, does not speak as much and barely knows him.

This is the one that has tortured him despite his loyalties. This is the one he should have killed.

“How did you get in here,” he asks, and after the words leave his lips, he doesn’t care about the answer.

“We were having a conversation the other day before we were interrupted by your new boss,” he says. Angela told him that this personality is known as Mr. Robot. Tyrell thinks that’s a stupid name.

“So you want me to continue beating your ass again?” Tyrell asks with a humph. “Fuck off, Elliot. You’ve done enough.”

“Not quite,” he says with a sigh. “I’m here to teach you some damn manners.”

Tyrell snaps his head around, eyes wide with shock. “Excuse me?”

Elliot comes forward, hands in the pockets of that ridiculous coat. “You heard me. Now get on your knees.” He’s undoing his pants, and Tyrell’s ears focus on the loud sound his zipper makes.

“You told me, one time, that this is what you wanted. Obedience is how you escape. I need you for the next task, and right now you’re useless to me. But you don’t have to be.”

Tyrell slowly circles his desk, watching Mr. Robot with interest. After all the malaise he’s felt for anything lately, Mr. Robot’s stern tone begins to invigorate his blood. Tyrell watches as his visitor’s cock springs free. He’s never laid eyes on it before, and now the sight of it makes his mouth go dry.

He licks his lips, and his knees feel weak.

“On your knees, Tyrell,” says the voice, and it sounds like they’re caught in an echo chamber. Soft yet fierce are his words. Tyrell approaches him, wishing he could wake from this trance and continue punching him. But Mr. Robot’s right, this is exactly what he needs right now. Unshed tears form at his eyes.

“Yes,” he says, and he flops down in front of him, his face a breath away from the erect cock. He opens his mouth slowly, his warm breath over the soft skin. He takes a tentative lick, and Mr. Robot leans into him harshly, first rubbing him on each cheek, pulling away from his outstretched tongue in a tease. Tyrell lets out a desperate cry. He snaps his teeth together when Mr. Robot leans away.

Tyrell lifts up an impatient hand and takes him into his mouth fully, the salty taste of his cock sliding against his tongue. It hardens at his touch, and he sucks, closing his eyes in delight.

“Look at me.”

He doesn’t want to. He wonders if a little bit of disobedience will get him punished, and maybe set him up for more of him. Maybe he’ll turn around and take down his pants and take him from behind... Mr. Robot slaps him on the head, his hair flailing wildly.

“Look. At. Me,” he says again. Tyrell looks up, and seeing Elliot’s serious face and slight smirk makes his own cock twitch and begin to harden. Tyrell reaches up with his other hand and strokes Mr. Robot’s balls, massaging them and twisting them. Mr. Robot finally moans from the touch, pushing his cock farther into Tyrell’s mouth.

Tyrell slides his mouth and tongue up the shaft, playing with him, teasing him with bites and kissing the tip lightly with a hot breathed kiss. After a groan, Mr. Robot shudders with ecstasy in Tyrell’s grip. Tyrell lets the cum fill his mouth just a bit, and then the rest slide down his chin and neck.

He pulls away, letting the scent of Elliot envelop him. Mr. Robot shifts and puts himself together. He pulls on Elliot’s tie as the man watches him, and after the tie is free, he cleans himself up with it. He throws the tie back to Elliot’s face, who still gives him the same somber expression.

Tyrell feels invigorated, holding onto these emotions with all his might. He hasn’t felt anything  of worth since he became the new CTO. Even anger does little to satiate him anymore, but having Elliot give him this -- no, Mr. Robot, gives him new purpose again.

“If you need me again,” Tyrell says, and it feels like he’s begging. He doesn’t care. “I’m ready.”

Mr. Robot nods once. “I’ll contact you.”

Tyrell nods and he watches the man leave.

Outside the window, it’s snowing again. He smiles.

END

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