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Koby knows he could get into a lot of trouble doing this. He could see how it goes left. One of Smoker’s subordinates knocks on the door to his quarters and just pushes it open. Maybe Smoker’s got a call coming in on the snail. Maybe pirates are attacking the ship. Maybe it’s something benign, like asking if they want a cup of tea since the canteen is making a round anyways.
They’d see Smoker lounging on the small couch against the far wall, knees spread wide, mouthing his cigar like he always does. Then the coffee table pushed askew. Then Koby here, on his knees. His face shoved between Smoker’s legs. Smoker’s free hand twisted in his hair as he tries to help Koby swallow that last inch of his cock.
Koby moans, and the sound is muffled and weak in his own ears. There’s not a whole lot of space left in his throat that isn’t taken up by the girth of Smoker’s arousal. Whoever barged in here would think it was weird, right? Koby was just a SWORD officer hitching a ride between bases. Supposed to be casual ‘how do you dos’ and ‘what are you up tos’ even though Koby generally isn’t authorized to divulge the latter. They probably don’t even realize he and Smoker know each other. Never would have guessed that Koby had wasted four days at port and turned down free space on two other battleships because he knew Smoker was coming through. There’s no reason for anyone to know how badly Koby had been aching to get his mouth in Smoker’s pants again. It’s been two months.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Smoker grumbles above him. His fingers tighten further in Koby’s hair, and the sting is enough to finally get one of the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes to spill over his cheek. “Up.”
Koby obeys, but slowly, dragging the flat of his tongue along the ridge of Smoker’s cock. He pants hard, darkness prickling briefly across his vision as he licks across the dripping head. Smoker’s ragged gasp makes Koby’s belly feel like it’s going to cave in around the emptiness. “Just…” he croaks. Clears his throat. It burns a little. “Can’t help thinking someone will catch me in here.” Fraternizing. It’d get out quick, right? Smoker had a… certain reputation and an attitude that let him shrug off just about anything. But Koby knew he himself was fairly famous now. Not like he thought much of it, but that wasn’t the point. A lot of people would think a lot of things about him if word got out that he was into sucking Smoker’s cock.
“I locked the door,” Smoker hums lowly. Koby digs his tongue gently into the slit, listening to Smoker’s deep sigh. He braces himself when Smoker’s chest tenses and the older man is tugging his hair again, leading Koby into his lap. “Stop thinking about anyone else.”
“But-” Koby starts. Smoker’s got a rowdy crew at G5. He can hear them sometimes, tromping around on the deck above them. Smoker’s fingers slide out of his hair to the nape of his neck, pulling him into his chest and biting at his ear. Koby hears him tamping out the cigar in the ashtray on the side table, then his other hand is pushing down the back of his open pants.
“Stop.” Smoker mutters in his ear. So Koby sighs, closes his eyes, brow furrowing as he focuses instead on Smoker’s fingers prodding at his ass. He only presses lightly, rubbing back and forth until heat coils in tight anticipation in his hips. Koby leans into Smoker’s chest and tips his head for Smoker’s teeth as he ghosts them up the side of his neck. Smoker licks at the corner of his jaw and Koby’s hands grip fistfuls of his jacket, the zipper biting into his palms as he tries to roll his hips back into that taunting pressure.
Thick fingers dissolve into nothing and Koby can’t quite swallow his frustrated sigh. He ducks away from Smoker’s mouth to return the favor by laying a string of kisses along his collar.
“Awful eager for a boy worried about making too much noise,” Smoker rumbles. One hand spreads across the small of Koby’s back, rucking up his uniform shirt to his ribs. The other thumbs the cap of the lube resting next to Smoker’s ashtray.
“But-” Koby huffs. He shifts up, shoving his slacks down around his thighs as much as he can without getting out of Smoker’s lap. The other man’s broad hand drops to squeeze his ass, pulling Koby in to rut around his navel as now slick fingers return to trace tantalizing circles around his hole. Koby shudders .
“It’s been too long,” he huffs. Smoker leans his head down again, pressing open mouthed kisses at his temple as he eases the first thick digit in. Koby gasps and feels Smoker’s cock twitch against his belly. Koby reaches between them and wraps his fingers around him, stroking slow, with shaking fingers, as Smoker works deeper.
There’s no replacing this. Sure, he can take care of himself over the long weeks they’re apart, but nothing matches the wide, rough press of Smokers fingers inside him, the promising weight of his cock in Koby’s hand or mouth. Body heat and muscle and the dizzying scent of tobacco.
“Good?” Smoker mutters in his ear. The deep whisper raises goosebumps on the nape of Koby’s neck and when Smoker squeezes in a second finger all Koby can muster is a thin, greedy whine. He answers more with his slow drag of his hand over Smoker’s arousal. The low groan he gets with the wet smear of precome over his fingers means that Smoker got the message.
Someone stomps across the deck above them. Koby stiffens, biting into Smoker’s skin when he flinches.
“Told you,” Smoker rumbles. His fingers sink into him to the last knuckle and for a moment Koby’s world narrows to the aching stretch. “Stop worrying about them.” The tip of a third finger traces around the rim and Koby’s thighs shake in anticipation. “I’ve got you,” Smoker hums into his mouth.
“I know, just-” Koby pants. He busies himself in stroking Smoker’s cock, pulling deep moans from the other man that reverberate from his chest.
“What, I gotta do this to you on shore next time?” Smoker grunts as Koby’s hands work over his length. “This is about as private as it gets on a ship.” Koby huffs and presses himself tight against Smoker’s chest, shuffling near as he can as he reaches back to pull Smoker’s fingers from him.
“Guess I need a better distraction then,” he says. Smoker chuckles.
“Guess so,” and he’s leading the blunt head of his cock slowly into him. Koby can’t swallow the thick moan that rises from his chest the moment Smoker eases in. It’s been too long and Koby aches in the best way, belly clenching, thighs quivering where he’s presses them tight around Smoker’s hips. He grips either side of Smoker’s collar in a white knuckle grip.
Smoker purrs, somewhere distant, just beneath his ear. He’s pressing soft kisses over his jaw, his thumb stroking the small of his back so sweetly even as he presses his cock steadily deeper.
“You’re rushing,” Smoker accuses as he bullies his way in. Koby’s whole body shudders as Smoker bottoms out and he rests flush in his lap.
“Wasn’t-” Koby insists. He rests only a moment, his hand squeezing between them. He pants as he trails his fingers over his own leaking cock, then past, pressing at his now heavy feeling belly. “But it was hard to wait so long for this.”