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Alexander listened to Walter as he paced around the lab. He rarely allowed anyone into the isolated space, typically due to the nature of his research. For Walter, the infrequency of his permitted visits tended to be caused by his inherently destructive nature. If it was not bolted down, Walter would pick it up, examine it, and then place it in the incorrect position.
Today, he reluctantly permitted it. He had thoroughly humiliated Walter in a match earlier in the day, disorienting the older man enough that he had failed to land a single strike before being eliminated. Alexander had not won the match either, and he could not tell if Walter’s teammates had bothered to pick him up or not. What he could tell was that Walter had not taken this well, especially given the insult that Alexander had made when he saw Walter fall.
Walter paced back and forth, expression reflecting his annoyance. Jabbering in his malformed, accented English. It amused Alexander more than he cared to admit. He drank from his coffee cup as he reviewed the data from the match, deliberately ignoring Walter. The irritation, he found, could be fruitful.
Walter’s anger had led to interesting results in the past. The sort that resulted in barked commands and a distinctly pleasurable experience. Rarely repetitive, often delving into experiences that he would have never considered were it not for the more experienced man’s encouragement of such debasement. He found himself pondering what the events of the match might bring out in the Salvonian.
“You gonna sit there all bloody day or what?” Walter sat on the edge of his desk, on top of a stack of old reports. When he didn’t receive an answer, he shot Alexander a look. Whatever he saw when he did so appeared to give him a sufficient enough answer. He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment before hopping up and resuming his impatient pacing.
Alexander did his best to ignore the papers that flew off the desk in the process.
The data told a rather strange story of what had ensued during combat. Walter must have been expertly sniped through the fumes, as his vitals had unexpectedly cut short on his readings. A bullet that would have hit Alexander had it not been for Walter’s maddened flailing. That carried sufficient humor to force a breathy chuckle past his lips.
He set the print-out aside and chose to write a report. Simplified, as his computer had not been working for the past few days, but sufficient. He could feel Walter’s eyes on him, knew that the Salvonian desperately wanted to know what had been amusing to him. This only encouraged him to draw out writing the report in a more spectacular fashion.
The ball of his right foot tapped impatiently against the floor, a reminder that he had not used the restroom since before the match in the morning. Pettiness forced him to continue writing at first. However, his recollection of what the full reports on his computer asked for remained impeccable. Leaving it partially unfinished after documenting several pages would be unsatisfactory.
Alexander shifted in his chair. A minute position change, but one that would grant him a few more minutes before he would need to relieve himself. He knew that Walter would rush out in a hurry, anyway, beckoning him to join him for dinner. He rarely accepted, but the gesture remained appreciated.
Stubbornness began to twist into regret. The final few pages took longer than he had anticipated. Complex variables about teammate positioning, the unknown status of the sniper’s team or why they had not fired a second shot leaving him forced to revisit the events of the battle in his head.
Walter had been the key focus in that battle, swinging at him with a metal fist. The Salvonian had gone for an uppercut when he was sniped. A shot from the angle he had expected would have also struck him. Not from behind, then. From the side. Out of sight for Alexander. He realized what had happened in an instant. Crossfire. Walter’s incredible luck swung both ways, it seemed.
He finished the report with a satisfied smile, noting that Walter was already waiting by the door. “I have noted your patience.” Alexander pushed his chair back and prepared to stand, only to freeze in place. He had taken too long to write the report, forced to hand-write each pre-filled element from memory and the occasional glance at one of the print-outs on his desk.
His eyes darted up to find that Walter had sauntered over, pressing a kiss into his cheek. “Took ya long enough, mate. I was about to give up on asking if you wanted to go grab some grub!” Walter’s annoyance remained in his tone, but more importantly he physically remained. Did he intend to walk with Alexander?
“I will join you shortly.” His voice had a strain to it that he hoped would not be obvious. “There are a few tests that I had intended to begin today.” Not entirely untrue, but none of them required immediate action on his behalf. Alexander had hoped that this would convince Walter to scurry off, hunger overtaking his determination that they spend time together.
Instead, to his horror, Walter reached down to palm his cock through his pants.
The crude action would ordinarily elicit irritation, a half-serious effort to refuse the advance and insult Walter for being so blunt. Instead, a too-loud gasping groan escaped his lips, eyes widening. The pressure from his bladder mixed with the faint spark of pleasure in a way that had been entirely unexpected. And Walter certainly noticed.
“You uh, hard up mate?” Walter had a wicked grin on his face. “Guess all that writing was boring for you too, ay? No worries, we can push dinner back.” His hand insistently applied pressure, stroking his half-hard erection.
Alexander could hardly breathe from the ministrations, gasping at the added sensitivity. He squeezed his eyes shut and managed to bat Walter’s hand away. He could distantly hear Walter asking if he was alright, too focused on avoiding a humiliation that he would likely never hear the end of.
Once he had caught his breath sufficiently, he cracked his eyes open. Walter looked far more concerned than he had expected. “I am fine.” His relatively breathless tone and behavior did not convince Walter. Nor himself. “I need to relieve myself. However, I appear to have waited too long to do so without some complications.”
Walter appeared confused by that. “Why didn’t you go, mate? Paper’d still be there, swear I wouldn’t muck about with it.”
“I had wanted to finish it in one sitting.” Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose, regretting his honesty. The urgency remained, stalled even further by the Salvonian’s interrogation. “While the information remained fresh in my memory, untainted by time.”
He glanced over to find that Walter had chosen to sit on his desk. Again. “Nah, that’s fair. Reckon I can see why you’d risk it.” He rubbed his chin, and Alexander felt his stomach drop as he saw the gears turning in Walter’s head. “Can you stand?”
Alexander shook his head after only a moment, averting his gaze. A cough made him freeze in horror, forcing his focus to shift to an involuntary unclenching of his muscles. He distantly heard Walter make some noise of acknowledgement that made his cheeks burn hotly from the shame of it.
“Well, then. Guess ya better get crawlin’, mate.” Walter had a smirk on his face when Alexander looked at him. He was enjoying it, enjoying seeing Alexander this way.
Yet he had few options. He could only sit at his desk for so long before his chair would be tarnished in a way that would make him never wish to sit in it again. The floor, at least, was tile. His eyes drifted to the side door of the lab that led to a supply closet and a bathroom. Private, mercifully, but the distance of it filled him with dread.
He scowled at Walter as he reluctantly slid off of his chair, squeezing his thighs together reflexively. The fact that he had actually gone through with it appeared to surprise Walter for a moment. He said nothing, however. Simply smirked and leaned back on top of the desk, leering down at him.
Alexander pressed his palms to the cold floor and began the slow shuffle towards the door, head hanging low from the horrific display of weakness. Any effort to move faster forced him to freeze in place, breath shaking from the effort. Occasionally, a wave of urgency would hit him with such force that he would need to stop and apply firm pressure to his dick, buying himself a few more minutes in his shuffle.
As he reached the door, he realized that he would be unable to open it. Already, his mind raced. Even the act of standing up to relieve himself would assuredly be a nightmare, but this had not been anticipated. Swallowing his pride, he managed to choke out a faint “help” . Walter’s boots entered his peripheral vision, but the door didn’t open. Instead, Walter turned to face him. He looked up, faltering at the expression on the Salvonian’s face.
Walter leaned back on the door, pulling his dick out of his pants. He casually stroked himself, a confident and lewd sight that left Alexander’s mouth agape. “Tell ya what, mate. You give me a blowie and I’ll help you out. Deal?” He grinned down at Alexander, knowing full well that there would be little room for him to argue or resist.
Alexander nearly surged forward, wrapping his lips around Walter’s cock with barely concealed desperation. He had one hand on Walter’s hip to steady himself, the other squeezing his own dick in a painful, vice-like grip. The sensation was overwhelming, and he found himself glaring up at Walter as he sucked.
Walter appeared to be content to move as little as possible, apparently greatly amused by Alexander’s frantic pace. He grabbed a fistful of Alexander’s hair and forced him forward. Through his gagging he could hear Walter moaning above him, a dizzying sensation that settled hotly in his stomach. His grip loosened enough that Alexander was able to yank his head back and gasp for breath, a thin trail of saliva connecting his mouth to the engorged cock that had been halfway down his throat.
“Please.” Alexander could not stop himself from begging for some scrap of mercy, realizing that Walter had likely chosen to capitalize on this as a means of revenge for his humiliation earlier in the day. His pleading did not go unnoticed, with Walter petting through his hair in a manner that could have been seen as kindness in any other situation. It only added to the mockery.
Walter hummed thoughtfully, then patted Alexander on the cheek. “Mate, I reckon you won’t get there in time anyway.” He pressed his dick against Alexander’s mouth, insistent, and smiled when he obediently took the length. “Besides, I’m not opening this door unless you finish me off, and you’ve not done that yet.”
That realization did nothing to slow his efforts, bobbing his head to attempt to finish Walter off quickly. The Salvonian gripped his head with both hands, the shock of cold metal sending a chill down his spine and momentarily forcing another panicked squeeze of his cock. He listened to Walter moan distantly, barely aware of his environment beyond the pounding of his heartbeat and the intensity of the pressure in his bladder.
Walter pulled back abruptly, his throat spasming from the absence of his cock. He stared up in time to see Walter jerking himself off, flinching as he came on his face. He sagged against the Salvonian, the pressure bordering on intense pain. Even the slightest movement felt as though it would result in him losing control, and the threat of a coughing fit loomed on the horizon. It had been miraculous enough that the urgency of how he sucked on Walter’s cock hadn’t forcibly triggered one.
To his surprise, Walter slid down to sit in front of him. Blocking the door entirely, although Alexander already knew that he would not be able to finish crawling down the short hall beyond it to the bathroom. He felt Walter drag him forward, a protesting sob escaping his lips at the jolt of painful pressure. Walter was stroking through his hair, soothing him with surprisingly soft spoken words of encouragement. They felt distant, underwater, utterly incomprehensible in his delirious state. His focus remained on still feebly attempting to maintain even the tiniest scrap of dignity.
Walter reached down and managed to pry Alexander’s hand off of his own dick, the last thing that had been a crutch for him. He looked Walter in the eye, panicked, lips parted in a silent plea. Walter’s expression had something inscrutable behind it, some domineering hunger that killed any further pathetic attempts at begging for mercy.
This was the mercy being offered to him.
“It’s alright, mate. You’ve got spare clothes in here, ay? And a shower.” He smiled. Alexander trembled. “I’ll help ya get cleaned up, no one’s gonna know about this. We can get delivery, pack it in early. Don’t need to go hurtin’ yourself, mate.” Walter kissed his forehead. “I’ll take care of ya.”
He closed his eyes tightly, his hands gripping onto Walter’s vest as he surrendered. The relief was immense, leaving him breathless. The spreading warmth was not entirely unpleasant, although the fabric of his clothes appeared to feel icy cold only moments after, cutting harshly into the relief and leaving him instead to feel mortified. He felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, unable to properly temper his own emotional reaction at the combination of conflicting emotions.
When the flow finally ceased, he was uncertain of what to do. His legs and stomach ached from the effort of holding back for so long, and the cold dampness extended down his pant leg in a way that made him physically ill from the horror of it. He tentatively opened his eyes to find Walter staring down at him. Amused.
“Feel better?”
He nodded weakly, unable to tear his gaze away from the complexity of emotions shining in the Salvonian’s eye. Alexander felt numb as Walter pulled away, sagging down onto his hands and knees. He felt Walter tugging his boots and socks off, momentarily grateful that he had remained in the same position and avoided having any urine leak too far down. Hands tugged at his belt, removing it delicately and tossing it aside. The smell when his pants and underwear were peeled off made his nostrils flare. The shame returned anew, hanging his head low enough for him to feel the cool tile on his burning forehead.
Walter whistled behind him, apparently impressed. “Bloody hell, guess you weren’t joking about how bad it was. Can ya lift your legs?” He obliged, feeling the cold material slide over one knee, and then the other when he lifted the other leg. He turned his head to watch Walter fold the fabric carefully to attempt to lessen how much it would come in contact with the floor. A pointless endeavor, as Alexander would ensure that he thoroughly cleaned every centimeter of the room after this.
He was abruptly hoisted up, the metal arm easily keeping him upright despite his wobbling legs. Alexander was forced to be partially bent over, in part to make it easier for Walter’s arm to properly hold him up, and in part from the lingering discomfort. He had to direct Walter to go to the opposite door in the lab to go to the shower, each step feeling difficult and uncertain. He leaned heavily on the smaller man, breathing still labored from the ordeal. Walter murmured encouraging words into his ear, some of it nearly inaudible and some bordering on such filthy vulgarity that Alexander wanted to beg the Salvonian to leave him be.
Alexander removed his shirt numbly, staggering into the shower and letting his thoughts catch up to him. The experience had been revolting, yet he could not deny the sickening arc of pleasure that had coursed through him at being under someone’s thumb in such a degrading manner. The pressure had provided an unexpected thrill of pleasure, too, one that he did not readily want to admit. An assortment of variables that he had not considered before weighed heavily on his mind.
He jumped when he felt Walter’s hand on him, realizing distantly that the Salvonian had removed his clothing and his metal arm to join Alexander in the shower. He rested against the tiled wall, facing away from Walter as he scrubbed him down. It carried an element of tenderness that settled pleasantly in his chest, adding to the array of emotions he had suffered.
A moan escaped him, shocked as Walter’s hand enclosed around his neglected cock. He rested his cheek against the tile, closing his eyes as he bucked into Walter’s hand. The sensitivity from before no longer remained, but the tension in his muscles did. He felt Walter’s lips on his ear, whispering a soothing array of words that had him panting. His orgasm hit him abruptly, knees buckling and forcing him to grip tightly onto the wall to remain upright.
Alexander dimly heard the shower shut off, remaining glued to the wall as he felt Walter rub a scratchy towel against his damp skin. He finally moved his arms to grab the towel and wrap it around his waist, relaxing as he felt Walter’s arm snake around him.
“Talk to me, mate. You alright?” He felt Walter’s lips on his shoulder. One of his hands reached up to rest over Walter’s, the other still gripping the towel. “You’ve been quiet for a bit.”
He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. “I am fine.” Alexander considered his words carefully. “More than fine. Thank you.” He could feel Walter’s mouth split into a grin against his back.
“On ya.” He started to pull back, Alexander reluctantly letting go of his hand. “Righto. Let me go order some food, I can toss your clothes in with mine. Reckon no one’s gonna notice or give a toss if there’s some funky smell comin’ off me gear.” Walter winked at him, only pausing briefly. “You do have a spare set of clothes in here, ay? I can swing by your room if you need me to get you some.”
Alexander considered everything that Walter had said carefully. “Thank you. I have clothing here that will be sufficient.” His throat felt dry, uncertain how to process any of what he had experienced. “Are we dining in your room, or mine?”
Walter laughed, nasally and abrupt. “Yours for sure, mate, me table’s a bloody disaster. I’ll meet ya there. Give a ring if you need any help, ay?”