by Juniper Gray
He wasn't sure if it was the effects of the interface on his mind, but he noticed something flicker across Meitou's face like he was beginning to lose control, letting himself go more than he ought to, like his agenda was slipping.
Meitou watched Therse's mouth work around his thumb and leaned in to kiss him, passionate and deep, like he was doing something he knew he shouldn't and had to do it quickly before he reconsidered. His fingers slipped up into Therse's hair, running frantic over his body and grabbing at the fabric of his suit for purchase as they moved.
Meitou groaned against him, and Therse could feel the man's thighs twitching, his kiss almost desperate as they wound up to climax. Meitou's hand went to his cock, fisting hard as they kissed, then he pulled away, teeth grit in frustration, thrusting hard enough down on Therse to shake the module. Therse watched his face intently as he reached orgasm, head snapping back, ejaculate painting Therse's chest in hot spurts. Therse was breathing hard. That had been one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. Hot enough to make him forget what a selfish asshole he was being right now.
Meitou looked exhausted as he came down from it, then regained his composure, panting in surprise at himself. He went to kiss Therse again, but thought better of it. “I'll be honest, it's been a while since I came that hard.” He ran a finger through the warm come plastered over the suit and seemed somehow satisfied to see Therse marked by his orgasm.
Then he pulled off, leaving Therse still wound up and flushed.
“Hurry up and fuck me already,” Therse spat, twisting as much as he was able.
Meitou chuckled. “That's more like it.”
He pulled down the suit flap covering Therse's groin and slipped his fingers in, reaching for Therse's prostate with lubed fingertips. Therse was in a bad way.
Meitou leaned in, pressing against him. “You want it?” he said, low and close.
“Yeah,” Therse all but snarled.
Meitou gripped his neck and ground his re-awakened erection against Therse's thigh. “Tell me how you want it.”
“Hard, fuck me hard,” he demanded.
Therse felt the harness hoisted under his leg, Meitou using his sheer brute strength to wrench it up. He cried out as Meitou slammed into him. “Don't hold back,” Meitou told him. “Give me a reason to fuck you this good...”
He was starting to lose it altogether as Meitou fucked him harder, driving in and out of him, riding over his prostate. “Fuck! Yes!” he yelled, tensing in the harness as he began to unravel.
Then Meitou stopped.
Therse writhed about, flexing as much as he was able, trying to get Meitou to start up again. “Fucking move!” he hissed. Fingers thrust into his mouth to quiet him down.
“You have a real dirty mouth when you're wound up this tight,” Meitou told him, voice thick with seduction. “I like it.” He moved again, slowly. “Unfortunately for you, that means I'll want to stretch this out.”
“Shit,” Therse said, licking, sucking, biting down desperately on the fingers in his mouth.
“Christ, you would have made a fantastic whore.”
Therse scowled up at him.
“I'd bet men halfway across the segment would've paid handsomely to ride your pretty ass,” he said, drawing out of Therse all the way and pulling back his foreskin before plunging back in. “And paid even more handsomely for the chance to break you in.” Meitou pulled his fingers out far enough so that Therse could speak.
“Tough shit, then, that I'm going to be a Navy Commander, eh?” Therse said, thrusting his tongue between Meitou's fingertips.
“Oh, so you made your decision? Shame, if you ask me. You could have been filthy rich trading on your assets.”
“I'm not cheap enough to sell my body.”
“That's not what they'd be buying, not really. They'd all want the chance to tame you.”
Meitou was rubbing him so good it was hard to maintain enough focus to speak. “Tame me?”
“All that rage you feel, all that anger. It's dripping up to the surface. If you wore it like you're wearing it now, there's not a man alive who wouldn't want to rein you in.”
“You don't know...what the fuck you're talking about...” he gasped.
“Sure I do. Right now you're helpless and you can't stand it, but it feels good enough for you to allow it.”
Therse smirked. “Are you saying you want to tame me?”
“You're already mine if I want you.”
“Wrong. That's not your place.”
Meitou grinned at him almost as though he'd been expecting that answer. “Oh? Then whose is it?”
Therse looked away.
Meitou increased pace again and Therse's eyes rolled back in his head. “You've already decided, haven't you? You put the bridle on yourself, you're just waiting for him to take up the reins.”
“That's not —”
Meitou removed his fingers from Therse's mouth, a little hesitantly. “Like I said, a shame,” he whispered, and thrust hard.
As Therse was about to come, Meitou looked up at the module surface and said, “I wonder what Gen's doing right now.” The bands changed color at the mention of Gen, just as Therse felt himself flood with guilt and lust. And then, right before the peak of his orgasm, he realized Meitou had known all along what the bands meant.
* * * *
By the time Therse had showered, changed and got to the mess, Gen was already gone.
On the table where they'd usually had their meals together, before Meitou arrived, sat a little white bowl full of delicious-looking things fresh from the biohabitat. Therse took a seat alone, rifling through the bowl with a faint smile on his lips. He pulled out a juicy-looking strawberry, inspecting its full, red color, then decided to leave those ‘til last and began with the washed half of carrot.
It tasted of when the trees turned autumn colors back home.
He looked over at the comms point on the wall, feeling terribly guilty for neglecting his friend, but did nothing.
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* * *
6: AN EXERCISE IN DIFFICULT TRUTHS
The fog was everywhere, closed in so tightly around him he could only see a couple of feet in front of his face. The only sounds reaching him were the slap slap of his feet against the wet earth and the rushing breath in his chest. Everything else was stolen by the white blur.
The morning air was cruelly cold, nipping at his flesh and clawing at his lungs, but he pushed through it.
Gen strained to listen through the blank but there were no sounds besides those he was making himself, which meant he had a comfortable lead over the second jogging group. A twenty-mile run after a full fried breakfast; he hadn't suspected the officers would be so cruel. At the time they'd thought they were getting a treat, but really it was a double-cross. Explained the grins on some of the officers’ faces while they'd watched the squad eating. Gen was glad he'd taken the noble route that morning and stuck to his porridge and fruit. It wasn't long before the men and women jogging around him who'd eaten too much of the rich, fat-laden food had started vomiting.
They'd been released in two squads so the route wasn't overcrowded, and he'd been held back in the second, much to his irritation. Having to wait for other people and follow up behind them did not appeal to him in the slightest, stirring his competitive instincts, making him want not only to out-run everyone in his squad but to overtake those from the first squad as well.
He looked down at the monitor on his wrist to check he was still on course. He couldn't see a thing in this damn fog.
Then something appeared up ahead of him—a grayish amorphous blur that darkened and gradually began to cement as he got closer to it. Gen smiled and spurred his pace. He was about to overtake his first victim.
His smile broadened when he realized who was taking up the rear of the first jogging squad.
He passed Therse easily, sailing by him, holding himself broad and proud as he turned to smirk over his shoulder. But Therse k
ept his head down, not meeting Gen's eyes, not even acknowledging he was there at all. Not bothered or impressed in the slightest that he'd just been overtaken.
He had no idea why, but Gen found that both disappointing and infuriating at the same time.
Gen had gotten the fastest time, not that anyone was surprised. Athletics had always been one of his strengths. Therse had been the slowest runner and was one of the last to arrive in the changing rooms, looking exhausted. He avoided most people's eyes, making his way to his locker quietly as the men around him grinned. It was the first time any of them had ever beaten him at something, and the victory was sweet. Gen tasted it sweeter than any.
He sidled over to where Therse was standing, starting to pull off his sweats and beginning to change. There were amused mutters as the men realized where Gen was headed and what might follow when he got there.
He leaned in and they looked at one another properly for the first time. “You were looking good there in my rear viewscreen,” he said. Therse glared at him slightly but said nothing, pulling on his clean fatigue shirt. “Nothing you want to say?” Gen continued, trying to get something out of him at least. The room was quiet now, all eyes fixed on the two of them. But Therse said nothing as he tugged up his trousers. “Does it hurt to do badly at something?” Gen said softly, to stifled laughter from his audience.
Therse stuffed his worn clothes into his kit bag and walked out.
The next time the officers pulled the same trick was after a roast dinner. Only the really stupid recruits fell for it this time, but there were plenty of those.
Gen was in the second release again, only this time he wasn't too bothered. He'd enjoyed the satisfaction of passing people from the first wave. He was especially not bothered when he saw that Therse would be in the first squad, as before. He watched the first wave leave, jigging happily from foot to foot, the only one of them with a smile on his face in the pouring rain.
He was faster this time, he was sure of it, because he very quickly caught up with the stragglers of the first wave, powering past them with little interest. He sped past them all one by one, searching for the man he really wanted to see him as he overtook. To watch his back and know that he'd been beaten.
But it had been a while since he'd last seen anyone, and he was beginning to wonder if he'd passed Therse and not even noticed. Or gotten off track, but a quick check of the wrist monitor told him he was going in the right direction. He felt a kick of doubt. It would be a shame if he'd missed the look in Therse's eyes.
Then Gen crested a hill, and spotted Therse just up ahead. He felt himself grin. This was going to be good...didn't matter that Therse was out in front of his own squad, Gen was still gaining on him.
It took much more effort than he'd thought to catch up, though. Therse heard his footsteps and peered back over his shoulder just as Gen was rounding on him. Gen was surprised when Therse began to pull away.
He kicked extra power into his own heels and fought back, closing the distance between them again. Therse looked back at him and Gen gained immense satisfaction from the irritation on the other man's face. He was almost level with Therse now, could see the drained but determined look in his eyes, rain streaming down his face and plastering his clothes to his body. Therse was flagging badly, steps shaky and shoulders jittery, but he wouldn't give in. Gen had to push himself even further, almost reaching his limit to beat Therse to the finish line.
And even then it was only just. Once they were past it Therse dropped to his knees in the sodden earth, coughing as though his lungs were about to fall out. It took every ounce of strength Gen had remaining not to do the same thing.
Gen set a new record, eclipsing Therse's achievement in the eyes of anyone who'd noticed it at all.
Therse was still suffering in the showers, leaning forward with both hands against the wall and letting the water flow down his bare back as Gen wandered over to him.
“Nice run. Have you been training?” Gen goaded.
Therse ignored him and began soaping up.
Gen punched him lightly in the mid-back, getting soap from Therse's firm body on his fist. “Don't fucking ignore me.”
Therse glared at him over his shoulder and spoke to him for the first time. “Why not? Doesn't sound like you've much worth saying.”
Gen sneered back at him. “You just can't handle the fact that someone is better at something than you. You think you're so fucking good just because you've gotten a few decent test scores. Well let me tell you, that doesn't count for shit out there, and I don't want some asshole who should be a pencil-pusher getting in my way, holding us all up because he doesn't belong on the battlefield.” He leant in, watching Therse's expression. “And trust me, you don't belong.”
There were mutters of agreement as Gen walked away.
Later in the mess, Gen was surprised to see Mal and Vice talking to Therse. They were both smiling, chatting away, all jokey and friendly like they'd known one another for ages. He considered joining them and seeing him off, but noticed Byrn sitting oblivious in the middle of the hall and joined him instead.
“Hey,” he said, setting his tray down.
Byrn looked up momentarily from his screen and waved a hand at Gen.
“I can't stand that guy.” Gen muttered.
Byrn looked up at him for a puzzled moment then turned to follow Gen's gaze. He turned back, none the wiser. “He's just some guy, what the hell is your problem anyway?”
“Everything he does pisses me off.”
“You know he's been approached for taking early access?” Byrn said, taking a bite of his food.
Gen went stone-faced. “What?”
Byrn nodded. “They're going to let him on the real fighters. A year early.” Byrn himself didn't seem particularly perturbed by the notion.
Certainly nowhere near as much as Gen. “What the fuck?”
“Apparently he's one of the smartest candidates they've ever had. He can read the battle sims even better than Mal can.”
“But he has no idea about commanding. There's no way a squad would follow him, what are they thinking? That should be me...”
Bryn shot him a tired glare. “Look, would you stop being such a shit to him? I was there earlier in the changing rooms when you were being a dick.”
“Why should I? He rubs me the wrong way, it's not my fault —”
“It is entirely your fault. Look, I don't know what you've got against him, but you have to get it out of your system.”
Tennar joined them, slight apologetic smile riding his face as usual. “I think I can guess what you guys are talking about. I can see it from the look on your face,” he said, pointing at Gen.
“Whatever.”
“Byrn was telling me about your little outburst. You're going a bit overboard, don't you think?”
Gen held his hands up. “Why have you got such a problem with me railing on this guy? It's not like he gets it any worse than anyone else does. Or much worse, at least.”
Byrn and Tennar exchanged glances. Tennar cleared his throat and turned to Gen. “Look, Iss was telling me yesterday that she came across his file while she was sorting some corrupted data after the storm. His history...it's not pretty. He doesn't deserve to get shit from you.”
Gen was intrigued. “What kind of not pretty?”
Tennar scratched at the back of his head and looked uneasy. “Rough background,” he said, blowing on his soup and taking a sip. “He came to the Navy on a scholarship to escape his home life. Mother was a prostitute, father was a drunk who used to beat them both up. So back off, okay?”
* * * *
“I've got their records if you want them.”
Meitou considered this, but didn't look up from his screen. “That would be cheating.”
“I thought you liked to act on the most complete intelligence,” his ship observed.
“Ordinarily yes. But they're both so damned easy I feel like having any extra information would be an unfair advantag
e.”
“They're an interesting read, but suit yourself. You're running out of time, though.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Don't blame me, I was just the one ordered to get you there faster.”
“And you couldn't possibly have told Command it was impossible to modify the engines of this ship.”
“And make enemies of the Branch bigwigs? Not likely. Even worse if they thought I was simply inept because of it.”
“You really are under their thumb, aren't you?”
“We both are. Everyone is. We're all just pawns; better to accept our place in society and thrive in it than resist and be cast aside.”
“Whatever, under the thumb or not I'm still going to have my fun.”
“Is there anything you care about other than fucking? Honestly, when exactly do you plan to start behaving like a Fleet Commander?”
“Maybe when you start behaving more like a warship and less like a melancholy observational outpost. Then you'd see that it isn't just the fucking that's the fun part, it's the manipulating other people to do things. If that has to happen through fucking, then all the better. There's something between them...something that binds them together and I can't quite figure it out...”
The ship made a noise that gave the impression it would have been rolling its eyes if it had them, and left him alone.
* * * *
Meitou stepped into the low light of the mess hall and headed towards the vendors. The ship had told him what to avoid, but still every time he'd used them the results had been unpleasant. He noticed Gen sitting over on a table near the screen windows, staring out at nothing. He looked over, scowled, and turned away again.
“I take it you two haven't made up yet then,” Meitou called, thinking better of whatever had dropped into his bowl from the machine and tipping it away.
Gen didn't respond.
“I'm probably seeing more of him than you are at the moment,” he laughed. Gen glared at him, though he'd hoped for a little more vitriol. He walked over and leaned against one of the tables nearby. “I like him. He's smart. Smart enough to be an Imperial, if only he had the right genes.”