[Open Log] Kinks and Freaks, Oh My!

[lightofdawn]

Hold on tight, hope you ain't scared...

Comments

[cryptos]

"I don't worry too much." Wash protested, albeit weakly and tightened his grip around Maine's cock so that he could exert more pressure. He had to be careful that he didn't accidentally scrape the sensitive skin with the calluses most soldiers ended up with even through heavy gloves from handling repeating firearms so much.

When he reached the head, the younger Freelancer trailed his thumb along the underside of the crown in one smooth arch before he reached the very tip. Wash leaned forward a little to press his nose into Maine's shoulder and swirled his thumb along the head and gathered up as much pre-cum as he could to help lubricate the hand job.

The shorter Freelancer huffed quietly, both amused and exasperated all at the same time by the growl which sounded distinctly like the word 'faster'.

"Are we really doing this?" Wash asked breathlessly as he sped up his strokes all the same.

[themeta]

Yes, Wash did. Not as much as the docs, but he worried probably more than the rest of the Freelancers. Or, at least, more openly than the others. Certainly more than Maine did, mostly because Maine went and did, rather than asked and deliberated.

Maine really wished he had his voice if only to say Yes, yes to all of it. Yes, they were doing this. Yes, he worried too much. Yes, he could handle it. Tiredness and pain were all temporary; they were trained to work through it, and this was a sweeter reward than any mission they could go on.

Wash's hands weren't that different than his own; smaller, sure, and calloused in the same familiar places. Maybe a little less so. Still, new hands, foreign hands, hands that weren't his own and knew exactly where to touch him, how to touch him... It made his thoughts scatter, lost away on each move of that grip. The hiss rattled, rumbled in that ruined throat, his large chest rising and falling in faster breaths.

Yes. There was a brief, little nod in case he didn't understand the growl, but he thought he was making his point clear. Hips rocked in time to the strokes, moving with them as his hand left the one he had been riding and going back to seek out Wash's cock again. His grip was warm, all-encompassing as he mirrored the movements, the speed the other used. They were partners, after all; they were trained to compliment each other.

Lips found Wash's hair as he turned his head, kissing his crown as he started to pant softly, ruffling the strands. Fucking hell, this felt good. Not as good as sex, but so fucking close.

[cryptos]

North probably took the cake when it came to fussing over people. Wash's problem was the fact that he was perhaps the youngest Freelancer and lacked the same level of confident self-assurance the older, more seasoned soldiers did.

That coupled with his almost pathological need to gain approval Command served to make Wash into a tangled little neurotic mess. He knew he wasn't the best fighter and was generally just middle of the road compared to the true stars of the Project.

"God, fine. Just...be careful." He had to struggle for coherence thanks to the warm weight of Maine's hand sneaking back inside his pants to wrap around his cock once again.

The blond man's breath feathered across that ruined and scarred neck in unsteady pants as he instinctively bucked up into his lover's grip.

[themeta]

Maine had won. He had known he would, if only because of history and persistence, but the victory still felt good. Be careful. Be careful and he couldn't help but laugh under his breath. What was he going to do, sprain a wrist? Like it was any worse than getting a clip emptied into his throat?

He rumbled. Yes, mom.. But he smirked a little as he rocked the hand, as he focused on the hurried breath against his neck, as he focused on callouses that brushed but weren't abrasive. His thumb slid along the other's head, and dancing over the slit before moving back down; he sped up if only to make it go faster. Wash probably wasn't up for something that could take an hour.

And Maine could draw it out if he was feeling like a dick.

It had been too long, though, and while he had jerked off in the lonely and bored hours waiting for this, it wasn't the same as being touched by someone else, by someone who knew him, who had learned his quirks, his likes, his dislikes. It wasn't going to take much time, his cock already twitching in the other man's hand, wanting but holding out. Not before Wash. He wasn't going to before his partner.

If he did, then Wash would know he really wasn't feeling well and he would never hear the end of it.

[cryptos]

"Don't be a dick." Wash grumbled into Maine's shoulder before biting down on it even through the thin material of his shirt lightly to further demonstrate his point.

In truth, the younger Freelancer was just too damned tired for marathon sex anyway. Getting off quick and fast sounded pretty good to him right now. Wash's breathing was becoming more and more unsteady as a groan worked its way up his throat.

He tried to muffle it against Maine's shoulder because he didn't want to risk any unwanted attention but it was hard to bite back on his sounds of pleasure when the taller man was digging his thumb into his slit and clearing it of the pre-cum which was steadily starting to leak out of his cock

The blond matched Maine's pace and soon enough he was stroking the other man closer to completion. "M'close," He mumbled and all it took was another couple of strokes before his dick was twitching in Maine's hand. He promptly made a mess inside of his underwear and all over Maine's hand.

Wash couldn't remember the last time he'd come in his own damned pants. What a damned mess.

[themeta]

That bite... that bite was enough to get him to rumble, to get him to feel something. Teeth bared themselves as he tipped his head back, halting only when the skin on his throat protested in a way that stopped adding to it and instead started to take away. Fuck. It seemed he was still human, even if he liked to pretend that he wasn't.

But then Wash was practically using him as a gag, and he couldn't help but smirk. Worth it. That was going to be his thought at the end of this, all of this, and that was good enough.

There was a companionable rumble at the admission, and Maine bucked his hips to signify that he was, too. It was always fun to feel Wash's body tense up, to feel the seconds before he was coming, all over Maine's hand and in his clothing. Warm. Sticky. Thick. A reward for the closest thing he'd get to a mission any time soon.

He might have laughed, if he wasn't waiting for the same thing. After Wash, it was just a matter of seconds, a minute tops with his labored breathing, quick, hitching, before he was coming, too, in the same place. And damn if he didn't care, because after laying there for a moment to calm down, he was simply kicking off pants and underwear alike.

It wasn't as if he was worried about sleeping naked. Anyone who had ever been in a locker room with him knew that he had nothing to be ashamed of.

[cryptos]

Coming felt awesome, even more so when it was at the hands of the taller man. Wash struggled to find the brain cells required to keep up his own stroking pace of the other Freelancer's hard length. Soon enough however, Maine was coming all warm and messy over his hand.

The guilt that filtered through him at both making a mess in his pants and the fact that he and his barely-healed lover couldn't keep their hands off on another was insidious and powerful.

"I need another shower. Ugh, haven't come in my pants like a damned teenager." Wash pulled his messy hand free of Maine's underwear and looked around for something to wipe it off on. But the other Freelancer sort of beat him to the punch by kicking off his now soiled garments so he surreptitiously wiped his hand clean on them before pulling his own sweats and pants down over his hips.

"This was a terrible idea." He accused without any real heat and used his boxers to wipe at the smears of semen streaked across his skin and dick. A flush was steadily turning him all the more pink with embarrassment att eh indignity of their actions.

[themeta]

Maine grunted, because even growling felt like too much effort now that he was sated. Tomorrow. In the morning, they could shower. In the morning, he could try to see if Wash would go again, would stop treating him with kid's gloves, would accept that he was a Freelancer and probably the physically strongest on the team. Wounded? Yes. But he had just proven he wouldn't break apart at the touch of a feather.

Or of another Freelancer.

A large arm slid around Wash as soon as he finished wiping himself off, pulling the smaller man against him as he sighed. This would look really bad if someone should come in. He was sure that some had their suspicions, some wondered why the two of them worked so well when they seemed almost...opposites. And while York had one time brought it up, Maine had simply rolled his eyes and walked away.

It was frowned upon by the Director. Explicitly stated against. Written in by-lines with several different footnotes attached and taught in classes and--Maine had skipped it. Maine had skipped all of it, slept through the lessons, because it seemed stupid and he hadn't cared. It hadn't been a consideration, a thing...

...until Wash was recruited.

Now, they were sleeping in bed together, and one intrusion, one loose lip, one stray bullet, and this could be gone. They would be separated, thrown up with different partners, and trusted to have their backs covered by someone else. It would be better, though; after the implant. Everything would be better...

His fingers tightened as he snorted in that short hair. Tomorrow, they'd take a shower, and tomorrow he would try not to fuck Wash in it, though he made no guarantees. It wouldn't have been the first time he heard moaning echoing off the tiles, barely masked by the roar of the water.

He rumbled in the other's ear. Sleep.