Taking long strokes through the water with his powerful metal arms, Silas followed.
* * * *
Silas had expected something sparse, a small house such as a dedicated surfer who spent all his time on the beach would live in. But Peter’s beach house was gorgeous, the interior complete with a hanging crystal chandelier and paintings of sunny vistas. The living room was decorated with green and gold, the color combination of the drapes, the couch, and carpet giving the impression of the sun shining on dune grass. Silas ran a finger over the fabric of the couch. Even with his metal hands, he could tell how high quality it was.
“What did you do in Eleport?” he asked.
Peter stopped by the door, brushing sand from his feet. “I managed a construction company that helped maintain the space elevator,” he said. “You know. Business.”
“It must have been a lucrative business,” Silas said. He remembered the long trips up and down the elevator, how scared he had been the first time and how it had been no big deal at all more recently. Fear truly did fade, if you let it go.
“You cyborgs make good money too, don’t you?” Peter asked, striding into the living room. He smiled, touching Silas’s arm again, and running a teasing finger up to his shoulders. “Selling your bodies to the government and all that.” It was clearly meant as a joke, although Silas had heard people say that before with scorn in their voice.
He took Peter’s hand and kissed it lightly, letting the arousal from before color his words. “My body is mine. But I will gladly take yours.”
Peter moved against him, and Silas took one step back, falling into a sitting position on the couch and pulling the other man with him. Peter ended up in his lap, water from his wet clothes dripping onto Silas’ skin and onto the couch.
“Oh... guess we’d better get naked, then,” Peter said, swinging off Silas. “I may be a beach bum, but I do like my space to be clean.”
Silas stood, feeling a little guilty about how soaked his clothes were. But the guilt burned away as he watched Peter strip, a clear invitation in his shamelessness.
Silas did the same. He’d already come into this man’s hands, and even if he hadn’t, he’d been naked around other cyborgs all the time during training and on Europa. Lack of shame was one thing that didn’t go away when he stopped taking libido inhibitors, but now it had a benefit.
“Nice,” Peter said, his blue-eyed gaze roving up and down Silas’ body. He knew he had a few surgical scars on his chest that would be more easily seen in the interior lighting, but Peter didn’t fixate on those, instead likely taking in the sight of Silas’s half-hard erection.
“Excited already?” Peter’s mouth quirked as he spoke. “How much of what they say about cyborgs is based in reality?”
“I don’t know,” Silas said, stepping forward and pulling Peter close, guiding the other man’s head up for a kiss. “What do they say about us?”
He slipped his tongue in the other man’s mouth before Peter could answer. He wrapped his arms around Peter, the kiss searing as Peter tried to break it for a moment, and then sank into it, returning Silas’s passion with his own. Peter moved in Silas’s arms, as though testing his strength by moving from side to side, and then gave up on that too, letting the cyborg hold him.
Silas ended the kiss, looking down at Peter’s flushed face and heavy-lidded eyes. He smiled. He didn’t want to be the only desperate one.
“Come to the bedroom,” Peter said. “I’m more than ready for you.”
The bedroom, too, was fancier than Silas expected, complete with a four-poster bed beneath a white-and-blue canopy. Silas didn’t have time to admire it, though, before Peter retrieved a vial of lube from his nightstand. He held it up, a clear invitation. “Do you want to apply it, or”—he glanced at Silas’s metal hands—”should I?”
Silas took a few steps forward, his cock throbbing at the sight of Peter sitting on the bed, the other man studying him as he approached. Peter was so gorgeous, full of lithe, taut muscle that probably served him well as he rode the waves. Silas wondered if he himself was as attractive to other men. Peter, at least, thought he must be sexy, Silas thought with a grin as Peter began dribbling the lube onto his fingers, reaching out for Silas’s cock.
“That feels good.” Silas put his hands on Peter’s shoulders, leaning down to kiss him while the other man worked the lube onto his erection. Pleasure soared, heat building below and coiling from where their mouths connected. He never wanted this to end, and it would only get better.
“You’ll be the first cyborg I’ve ever been with, and I can’t fucking wait,” Peter said when he broke the kiss and his hand left Silas’s erection. Peter scooted back on the bed and Silas followed on his hands and knees, careful not to disturb the carefully-hung canopy. The combination of the canopy and comforter brought the ocean to mind, and for a moment, even if he knew it was foolish, he pretended this was still the cave, the ocean all around them.
Peter lay back and spread his legs, using his finger to apply more lubrication. The sight was maddening, and Silas held back a moan of appreciation, precum dribbling out of his cock and mixing with the lubrication already there.
“I want you so bad,” Silas admitted.
Peter laughed, resting his head on a blue pillow and reaching up for Silas. “Me too,” he said. “C’mon and give it to me.”
Silas didn’t need to be told twice. He positioned himself over Peter, and when he entered him, Peter shuddered and gasped, his arms wrapping around Silas’s shoulders. He spread his legs wider, and Silas groaned as he filled the other man. Peter was tight and hot and absolutely, overwhelmingly wonderful. He didn’t want to go back to Europa, back to work, where life was sterile and libido inhibitors erased even the idea of arousal. He wanted this—the warmth and the closeness and the sheer ecstasy of sex with another man.
“You’re big,” Peter said, his words breathy. “Ooh, yes...”
Peter moved under him, and Silas understood his need. He began to thrust, grateful for the hand job he’d gotten before. If Peter hadn’t jacked him off, he almost certainly would come far too soon.
The canopy began to ripple with their movement, the bed shaking as Silas snapped his hips, driving himself into Peter. The blond man met his eyes, his face flushed red and his breaths coming in fast gasps in time with Silas’ powerful thrusts, but he still managed to give Silas a warm smile.
This was a fling, something Silas would look back on as a happy memory on Europa. But he wished it could be more. He wondered what it might have been like in another life, if that accident hadn’t happened. Maybe he would have met Peter sooner, two surfers living by the beach, living the dream.
Pleasure coiled in Silas’s loins, and dreams gave way to the pleasure of reality. Peter, too, was becoming overwhelmed, and he lifted his chin. Silas arched his back and kissed the other man while still thrusting, the connection of their mouths adding a different dimension of closeness, one twisted with physical desire and mutual desperation.
Silas could feel his orgasm build, and his kiss grew sloppy. Peter’s was too, and their tongues trailed together, seeking any sort of contact, their breaths heavy with lust, breaking the kiss every few moments. Silas began to thrust harder, careful to monitor Peter’s reactions, but he only seemed to like it more, and he broke the kiss with a groan that was full of need.
“Oh yes, Silas...”
Silas lifted one metal hand, then put it back on the bed, thrusting hard. He couldn’t touch Peter with that, it would be too uncomfortable. But Peter didn’t seem to want to touch himself, the other man arching beneath Silas, his neck and chest flushed, sweat beading on his body. His eyes were shut tight. He was clearly close.
He could at least tease. Silas supported his weight on one hand and touched the head of Peter’s cock with the other, the other man’s heavy erection bobbing at the touch and at Silas’ thrusting. Silas worried, through the haze of a looming orgasm, that his touch
would ruin Peter’s experience, and he prepared to move his hand away fast if it did.
But instead Peter moaned, his blue eyes flashing open. “More of that, please,” he said between gasps.
His words drove Silas’s pleasure to greater heights. If Peter didn’t come soon, Silas would lose it inside him. He obeyed, teasing the head of Silas’s cock with careful metal fingers, all too aware of the power in his hands and arms. He wondered if Peter knew just how strong they could be.
If he did, it was either a turn-on or it didn’t matter. Peter moaned again, and then tightened around Silas, cum fountaining out onto his stomach and chest in long, voluminous spurts.
The sight was too much. Silas’s eyes fluttered closed as the second climax of the day took him by surprise, boiling out of him into Peter in wave after wave of physical bliss. His whole body shuddered, the orgasm much more intense than the one earlier in the day, and a million times more satisfying than any time he had jerked off alone since leaving Europa.
Silas took deep breaths as he recovered, still kneeling above Peter. He really had needed that.
Peter’s breathing slowed, the rush of orgasm fading into a pleasant warmth between them. Silas lay down, and Peter let him, turning on his side so they faced each other. Peter entwined his fingers through Silas’ metal ones.
“Pretty damn good, Silas,” he said. “Clearly ten years on Europa didn’t ruin you for that.”
Silas smiled. “I may have been gone a while, but I remember how things go here.” He took a breath, hoping what he was about to say wouldn’t sound weird. “Thank you for showing me the ocean again.”
Peter raised one eyebrow, and then nodded. It was clear he understood.
* * * *
Two days later, Silas watched the waves ebb and flow, the ocean dark against the pink light of dawn. A small dark figure bobbed on the waves, and Silas waited at the edge of the sea.
“Hey, you really did come back,” Peter said, emerging from the water. The breeze was cold, but the other man clearly didn’t care. “Back in the sweater and long pants, huh? Off to space again?”
“I’m leaving this morning,” Silas said. “The last sixth months of the assignment.”
“Right.” Peter ran a hand through his hair, water dripping down his neck.
A flash of heat went through Silas as he watched it, and he sighed. He would need to take his first dose of inhibitors soon.
“No waves on Europa, you know,” Peter said.
“There might be. But no surfing.” Silas let a wave wash past his shoes, soaking his pant legs. “I’ll miss it.”
“Will you come back?” Peter asked.
Silas glanced at his metal hands, and then back at the ocean. He let the memory of his accident go through his mind again, and remembered the fear almost ten years ago that had paralyzed him when he had tried to swim, the fear of his old life that had driven him so far from the ocean that he’d left the planet.
“I will be back,” Silas said. “Once my ten years are up, in just six months, I’m leaving government employ. No more assignments.” Silas met Peter’s wide blue eyes. “When I do... can you help me relearn how to surf?”
Peter broke into a victorious smile. “Of course. And I hope you can teach me a few things, too.”
Silas grinned. He had a feeling his last sixth months in space would go quickly.
About the Author
Ravon Silvius lives in a tiny apartment with two tiny cats in a tiny town in the United States. Despite the cramped living quarters, Ravon enjoys coming up with big ideas for novels, with some plots coming from Ravon’s findings as a neuroscience researcher and others coming purely from Ravon’s imagination.
A Brief Vacation Page 3