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“Oh, are we actually using proper lube this time?” Rhys peeks back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Jack’s unexpected show of kindness As much as that meant anything considering it was Jack and he was barely giving Rhys time to adjust to one finger before he was adding a second and then a third, twisting them sharp enough to force a wince. “Oh, fuck, watch it, jackass.”
“Pretty sure I told you to shut up, kitten.” Jack slaps his ass, hard, and then bends to bite at the same area. “Besides, last time I didn’t you tried to have me assassinated.”
“Oh like you didn’t enjoy that.”
“Mmm, you know how to woo a guy, don’t'cha?”
“I’d like to think so since you’re in bed with me right now. Attempts at your life get you all hot and bothered, Hyperion?”
Jack snorts and twists his fingers again, rubbing over that spot that makes Rhys loudly gasp and try to force himself back on those wonderful fingers filling him. “I’d think about the situation I was in if I were you, Atlas.”
“The only thing I’m thinking about right now is that if you don’t hurry up and put your dick in me, I might just fall asleep here.”
“Someone sure is impatient.” Jack removes his fingers finally, wiping off the mess on Rhys’ thigh despite his scowling.
“I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t been inconsiderate enough to get shot up by bandits on the way here.” Rhys clutches at the sheets of the bed when he feels the head of Jack’s dick pressing into him, and he can just feel Jack’s grin at that. “You kept me waiting long enough.”
“Right, well,” Jack grunts, shoving his cock in fully in one thrust, “next time I’ll just invite them along. Throw a friggin’ party.”
Rhys nearly goes cross-eyed, barely biting back the yelp the sudden move has clawing at his throat. He doesn’t want to give the asshole the satisfaction of hearing him scream already.
Having sex with Jack wasn’t like having sex with anyone else, he’ll admit that privately. The rough, possessive way Jack’s big hands roam over his body, nails leaving tender red lines, are so different than the tentative way anyone else touches him. With Jack, Rhys is just someone to fuck and fight with. He doesn’t have any expectations for Rhys, and he sure as hell isn’t worried about being gentle and hurting him—actually, that’s Rhys’ favorite part.
They both hate each other as much as they hate each others companies, but they could match each other blow for blow. That was the biggest difference between Jack and Rhys’ other partners.
Rhys didn’t have to be anything that he wasn’t.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jack groans, leaning over Rhys’ body to bite into his flesh shoulder harshly. He can feel the blood from Jack’s wounds smearing across his skin, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find that hot.
He winces, but the pain is too good for him to complain about. Rhys knows—knows—Jack understands that because he bites down harder, growling and twisting his head a bit like a fucking animal until blood dribbles down his skin. He moans brokenly, pressing back into the hard thrusts that haven’t slowed down yet, and lets his head hang down. If he looks, he can see his cock bobbing between his legs, dripping wetly and so, so needy.
They don’t always get to meet up considering their unique… well, Rhys wouldn’t really call it a relationship, but it’s more than just casual sex and yelling. (Whether Jack admits it or not, Rhys can tell Jack is always excited to set up a time to come down to the shithole of a planet and meet up with Rhys.) When they can meet, though, it’s hours of mind-blowing sex that leaves Rhys feeling spaced out for days.
Jack is very, very good at that.
“Fuck, c'mon, harder!” Rhys pants, reaching back with his flesh hand to grip Jack’s hair tightly and tug hard. “Get your, ahh, ass in gear and fuck me already.”
Rhys lets Jack go and shuts his eyes, smugly grinning when Jack stops leaning on him and harshly shoves his chest into the mattress, one big hand keeping him pinned and the other on his hip with a grip hard enough to bruise. He nearly sobs when Jack finally hits a pace that has his body arching against the hand pinning him, writhing with desperation. This is what he needs. What he craves for. That feeling of Jack so deep, deep inside of him, taking what pleasure he wants from Rhys’ body and leaving him a complete wreck. The possessive holding, the bruising, being used to get off. It’s enough to make Rhys moan deeply.
Rhys is pretty sure he’s kind of fucked up, but he reasons that Jack is just as fucked up, so that’s okay.
“Yeah, yeah, just,” Jack groans deeply. Rhys can feel his hips press up against his backside as Jack grinds slowly, coming deep inside of him. He shudders at the feeling, and then whines when Jack slumps over him, the weight warm and comforting, but he’s still hard.
When Jack doesn’t move after a moment, Rhys squirms against him, panting, “Jaaack, c'mon, you’re not done yet.”
“Mmm, see that’s where you’re wrong. I am done.” Jack pats his flank harder than necessary and finally moves, pulling out of him and flopping back on the mattress.
Rhys absolutely gawks at him, and all the jackass does is grin lazily at him.
“Wh- hang on, I haven’t come yet.”
“Sounds like a personal problem, Rhysie.”
Rhys narrows his eyes and snarls at him, ripping himself from the bed to stand beside it. Jack just looks at him with that devious glint in his eyes, but Rhys isn’t in any mood for arguing. Instead, he reaches with his metal hand and grips Jack’s hair, pulling hard enough that Jack yelps and kicks at the bed, pushing himself to the edge to keep Rhys from ripping his hair out.
Whatever angry words he’s about to spew are halted when Rhys’ flesh hand smacks against his cheek and the metal one shoves his thumb into Jack’s opened mouth. All Jack does then is glare at Rhys, the threat of it diminished by the fact that he was staring upside down at him.
“Open your damn mouth, and if you bite me, I’m going to knock your fucking teeth out.”
For a moment, Rhys thinks Jack is going to argue with him, but he eventually relents and obediently widens his mouth for Rhys’ cock. In fact, he licks at it once Rhys gets closer and, almost too eagerly, takes the head of it in his mouth to suck on it. What an asshole.
Rhys isn’t satisfied with just that, though, and wastes no time sliding further in, removing his thumb as he does so. He can feel Jack sigh through his nose, and almost snorts when Jack crosses his arms over his chest like Rhys is difficult right now. It should like completely ridiculous if he’s honest, the way Jack is laying on his back, head almost fully off the edge, with his arms crossed over his bloody chest and Rhys’ cock halfway in his mouth.
It should look ridiculous, but it’s incredibly hot to Rhys. That probably doesn’t say anything good about him, but he can’t find it in himself to care right now. Jack’s mouth is entirely too inviting.
“Don’t gag now. Or do. Might be nice.” Rhys huffs a little laugh, thrusting fully into Jack’s mouth. The way Jack’s throat spasms around him is so, so nice, and it ruins Jack’s nonchalant attitude.
Really, that’s one of Rhys’ favorite things to do, ruin Jack’s casual attitude.
He leans over Jack to prop his flesh hand on the bed and rests his metal one casually over Jack’s throat. At first Jack stiffens, but as Rhys slowly pulls out some and then starts an easy pace of thrusting, Jack loosens up a bit. It’s not too often that Jack goes down on him, but Rhys knows how well Jack can deepthroat, so he’s not worried about him not being able to handle it.
Of course, Rhys isn’t exactly going to make it easy on him, either. Once Jack seems to settle more, Rhys starts thrusting harder and squeezes his hand. It’s enough to make Jack gag and—oh, Rhys groans, grinding against Jack’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that, Jacky.”
Unfortunately, Rhys is too close to the edge already to really make Jack’s mouth work for too long. It isn’t for too many thrusts before Rhys starts to lose himself to the motions, and he doesn’t even warn Jack before he shoves in hard again and grinds. He comes with a deep groan, enjoying the way Jack gags again and tries to swallow it all, but he splutters around Rhys’ cock. Rhys barely has time to remove himself before Jack’s hands come up and shove him away so Jack can roll over, coughing and scowling at him.
“Trying to kill me with your dick, kitten?” Jack’s words would be a lot more threatening if his voice didn’t sound so hoarse. Rhys just gives him a similar, lazy grin he had given Rhys earlier.
“If you die sucking me, I’m making sure that gets put on your tombstone.”
“See, I’m not even sure if you’re kidding. Knowing you, I don’t think you are.”
Rhys snorts and collapses on the bed beside Jack, reaching to dig his fingers into one of the bullet wounds and then pull it away when Jack hisses and slaps at him. He sticks the fingers in his mouth, licking away the blood with a smile. Jack shudders and Rhys just raises an eyebrow at him smugly.
“Want to find out?”
There’s no hesitation when Jack moves to straddle him, bending down to growl against his lips, “You are so fucking lucky you’re a good lay, babe, or I’d have had you killed a long time ago.”
Rhys just laughs against Jack, meeting the harsh, bloodied kiss eagerly. Oh, he hates Jack just as much as Jack hates him. The funny thing about that, though? He knows Jack won’t kill him. Make attempts at his life, sure, just like he does with Jack. But that’s just a rival company thing.
Here on Pandora, secreted away from the world? This was different. This was hate of a different kind. The kind that made desire and lust so much sweeter between two fucked up guys. This was just another addiction for them.