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“Go back to the ship, Max”, Gus pressed out in barely repressed anger, “I cannot stand to be around you right now. Send Nyoka.”
He had already turned away, signalling that the order was not open for discussion. In fact, he all but fled from the scene – Felix hastily hurrying after him. The boy nearly fell on the slippery rocks in the shallow water while trying to keep both Gus and the Vicar in his sight.
But Gus did not slow down for him. He walked as fast as possible without properly running. He steadfastly refused to look back.
Felix, bless his soul, kept his mouth shut.
He steered the two of them to the gates of Fallbrook, where he planned to wait for Nyoka. No matter how incensed he was, he wouldn’t step foot on Monarch wilderness without another adult on his side.
Felix fiddled nervously on his gloves, fidgeting where he stood. Gus tried his best to ignore him. His anger was turning him into a cold rod of steel.
“There you are, boss”, Nyoka called eventually and grinned – although the expression appeared a tiny bit strained. Gus assumed that she had either witnessed the scene before the waterfall or the Vicar had recounted his version of what had transpired. “Where are we headed?”
She was tactful and Gus cast her a minute nod of gratification. They left the thick walls of Fallbrook and set out to find the illusive Iconoclast-separatists. Wandering the hostile wilds proved a pretty nice distraction from all the stormy feelings in his chest. By quiet agreement Nyoka kept looking after Felix while Gus could vent some of his frustration on marauders and mantises.
When the day began to wane, they turned back toward Fallbrook and by nightfall they reached the gates. Nyoka sighed in relief: “What a day. Are we staying anchored or will we lift into orbit?”
They had found the Iconoclasts even if they had refrained from entering their settlement. Gus checked his portable log. He still had a minor thing to do on the Groundbreaker. And it would be safe to release Felix onto the station without having to worry. Parvati would surely love to visit her crush, too. Yeah. The Groundbreaker sounded good.
“We’ll lift and head for the Groundbreaker”, Gus informed, “You’ll hopefully enjoy it as your first off-planet experience. It’s pretty safe. And they have a bar.”
“Say no more!”, Nyoka grinned and clapped his shoulder.
As the docking platform grew closer Gus noticed himself growing more and more tense. He really hoped Max had retired to his cabin. It was difficult to predict how Gus would react to seeing him so soon after his betrayal…
The first deck was blissfully devoid of the Vicar. Felix and Nyoka bade him good-night. Before retiring to his own cabin, Gus made a quick detour to ADA to have her plot and set a course for the Groundbreaker. A part of him had dreaded her needling questions but she remained uncharacteristically formal. Gus made it to his cabin without any further incidents.
The door hissed shut and finally he breathed a little easier. He was alone and no one would witness all the other emotions aside from anger and frustration bubbling out of him.
*
They had docked at the Groundbreaker some hours ago and Gus was still too chicken to come out of his cabin. He hadn’t even showered yet. He felt distinctly… unwell. There was only so many times he could re-read his old messages. He also lamented, not for the first time, that he wasn’t enough of a liquor-addict to drink all the bottles on his table from Fey.
“ADA?”
“Yes, captain? How may I be of assistance?”
“Is Max still on the ship?”
“The vicar is still in his cabin. He’s been there since his return from your expedition on Monarch.”
“Ok. Thanks, ADA.”
*
Half an hour later, after a conspiring whisper-session between the nosy ship-AI and Nyoka, the huntress cornered Max in his cabin – much to the vicar’s annoyance. „Miss Wentworth, how may I help you?“, he asked with his typical blend of polite hostility. He had hovered over his personal journal, sitting at his desk, unable to either read or write a single word.
Every moment since his fallout with the captain had been an unparalleled torment. No book could possibly be worth this...
„Calm your vents, Vicar“, Nyoka said, leaning against the door-frame, „I just wanted to find out whether you‘ve come up with a plan to make him forgive you.“
„Do kindly shut up“, Max growled, ill-tempered. He was mostly angry with himself but had never been very good at sparing others from undeserved collateral damage. His fists clenched harder around the edges of his journal.
In a way, Nyoka was right. He had to come up with a way to make things right. It wouldn’t do to simply wait out the captain’s… temper? No, his rightful anger. It was his part to fix this. The only problem was, he had absolutely fuck-all idea as to how? He wasn’t used to apologizing. He never apologized…
And the huntress was still leaning in his door-way, smirking at his misery: “Was there anything else you needed?” It was a special talent of his to make such polite words sound so awfully vicious.
“Naw, not particularly”, she drawled, “I mean aside from the obvious: fixing this mess you made. You could start by giving him a little space. He’s been scooped up in his room for ages. Bet he wants to at least shower after having spent a day hunting the lawless and the feral.”
Max rolled his eyes but he had to agree. The captain would not come anywhere near him. He rose to his feet: “Fine. I’ll take a stroll along the promenade. Maybe inspiration will hit me over the head? Or one of those overly colourful ad-bots will induce a stroke. Either way, this situation will hopefully be liable to be resolved once I return.” He checked the ship-time. “I’ll be out for at least 2 hours. Should give him enough time to use the facilities to his heart’s contend.”
“Mighty nice of you, preacher-man.”
*
“Captain?”
“Yes, ADA?”, Gus mumbled into his pillow. It was questionable whether the AI would be able to glean any sense of it.
“Vicar Max has just left the ship for an errand”, she reported, “He should be off-board for at least an hour.”
Gus’ head shot up: “Really?”
“I’m not one to falsify reports, captain. Bolt’s honour.”
“Thanks, ADA.”
*
“Captain, how’re you feelin’?”
“Gah! Ellie! For fuck’s sake!”
Gus had enjoyed a long and hot and thorough shower and had just left the bathroom, with a towel hanging over his still dripping wet hair, when he had apparently been set up for an ambush by his ship’s physician. His trousers, not fully done up yet, nearly slid down his hips. He was a rather inelegant sight – trying to both hold up his trousers and keep the towel on his head.
“Smooth, boss, really smooth”, she smirked, “Worried for your virtue?”
“Maybe a little!”, he gasped frantically and finally managed to gain footing. With his trousers fully done up and the towel secure around his neck, he glared at the woman. “What is the meaning of this?”
Ellie chuckled and leisurely followed him: “Feelin’ better?”
“As a matter of fact, yes”, Gus sniped and headed for the refrigerator to snatch himself something to eat. “Anything else?”
“Yes”, she chirped, “You gonna talk to the vicar? Anytime soon?”
Gus halted in his plan to bite heartily into a pilfered mock-apple. Slowly he turned toward her and glared. Hard. “None of your business, Ellie. Now leave me be.”
Naturally, she did anything but and kept slinking after him: “It’s been a pretty tense past two days. You gonna forgive him anytime soon? Because otherwise why not simply throw him off the ship?” She sounded awfully amused.
They had reached Gus’ cabin. “It’s been only two days, Ellie. Give it a rest. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m going to do. Now shut up and butt out.”
The door hissed shut before her face. She slunk away, smirking triumphantly to herself. The way she saw it, it was unlikely the captain would evict the vicar. Now she could update Nyoka and ADA on their shared recon-project and maybe they even had news for her on how far Max had come in his plan to grovel for forgiveness.
Men were so slow on the uptake sometimes…
And also, it was always hard on the kids when mommy and daddy are fighting.
Her laughter rang off the metal walls of the ship.
*
“Ooooooh, what’s that?”, Felix’ giddy voice filled the galley – immediately raising Max’s hackles: “Those are decidedly not for you, Mr. Millstone. Hands off.”
“Spoilsport…”, Felix whined and craned his neck to chance a glance into the medium-sized metal container standing on the corner of their large dining table. “What’s inside?”
Max had been washing vegetables in the sink but his fundamental distrust of the young and foolish made him abandon his
every-evening duty of helping to prepare their dinner. Parvati allowed his shirking benevolently.
“Mr. Millstone, I’ll not repeat myself!”, Max warned and bodily inserted himself in-between his freshly bought assortment of mag-picks and the boy in question, “Sam! Would you please deposit this in our dear captain’s cabin?”
The automechanical eagerly jumped into action, taking the container from the irritated vicar and stomping off to finish his task.
“You’re such a tightarse, Vic….”, grumbled Felix but obediently hurried to start his own job of putting out plates and spoons and glasses.
*
When Gus returned from his calculations with ADA there was a previously not present metal-box on his desk. Quizzically he looked about but no one was around. He was almost positive that it couldn’t be a bomb. ADA would have noticed. And hopefully warned him.
The door slid shut behind him as he approached the new thing warily.
He chanced a look inside and his expression immediately fell. There was absolutely no hint as to where this box could have originated from but Gus had a fair inkling. His mood soured appropriately.
For a few moments he considered what to do. He couldn’t possibly simply ignore this, or could he?
Fuck it all!
He growled under his breath and re-opened his door to shout: “MAX!”
There was a distinct clutter of dish-ware and subdued curses but soon enough he heard approaching footsteps. Moments later the vicar descended the stairs, greeting him pleasantly enough: “Captain. It is nice to see you. How can I be of service?”
“Get in!”, Gus snapped and immediately locked the door behind the vicar. “What’s the meaning of this!” He was aware of his lack of inflection but his gesture should theoretically transport his meaning.
Max answered evenly: “It was a first, most probably feeble attempt at swaying you into forgiving me.”
“With mag-picks?”
“Yes.”
Damnation but he did love mag-picks. One could never have too many mag-picks. Still. „And you think material presents are going to make me forgive you?
“Not at all but I was fumbling for an overture to make you at least talk to me once more.”
“Well, here I am”, Gus crowed sarcastically and threw his arms wide.
Max realized that nothing short of begging would get him out of this situation: “I am truly sorry.”
„You lied to me!“, shouted Gus – practically exploding.
„Did you expect me to reveal to a stranger the details of my endeavour?“
„We might have been strangers at the beginning, but we‘ve been travelling for weeks now, months. And not once during that time did you begin to consider me as your friend! A friend you could confide in! A friend you could tell the truth!“
That seemed to take the vicar quite by surprise. As if the idiot had not realized that such an option had existed.
„There it is“, Gus said bitterly, „While I thought we were on the same page, that we were something like friends, you saw me as nothing but a means to an end. A means, not a friend.“ He thrust his arm to the side, hand already reaching for the door-lock. Max had to go.
He had not really expected physical resistance but suddenly he found himself with his back pressed against the door and a bewildered vicar caging him there.
„That is not true!“, the man said, fierce, „I may be an idiot and I may also be an insensitive jerk but I did not...“ He faltered there.
Gus felt his pulse hammering in his veins. This was certainly not a good moment for a surge of entirely misplaced feelings. He focused instead on his anger and the vicar‘s inability to string together even one simple sentence. „You did not what, Max?“, he hissed testily.
„Would you have taken me to Fallbrook knowing that I would want to kill Chaney?“, the man tried.
„I don‘t know“, Gus said honestly, „Probably not.“
„See-?“
„No, I do not see!“, he reared, so furious, „You expect me to help you kill someone simply for the sake of petty vengeance? While you‘re on a self-proclaimed quest for enlightenment? Do you hear how ludicrous that sounds?“
That seemed to baffle the vicar once more: „Eh...“
„There! You are an idiot“, Gus repeated, „But according to your very own logic you will keep lying to me if you suspect me not to go along with your wishes. That is not a friend. Let me go.“
Max did not. His fingers curled around Gus‘ arms forcing him to remain where he was. His temper was rapidly rising once more: „Just because I have apparently been a bad friend to you, doesn‘t mean that I don‘t consider you mine. In fact, you are even more than that. You are my salvation. Despite not being offered any reward, you set out to help me. You took me in and helped me find that law-damned book and that fucker Chaney. And you stopped me from making a grave mistake. And then, even in your deeply justified anger, you did not cast me out. I am still here. And I know now I did you wrong and deceived you, that I could have gone about it differently. I am sorry and I am begging you to forgive me.“
Gus’ sole reaction was a very deliberate raising of a single eyebrow: “You’re begging me?”
Max nodded solemnly: “I am. Please forgive me.”
Gus shifted a little, haughtily: “I’m not feeling very swayed here.” He felt it justified to play hard to get.
“I fuckin’ hate to admit it and you probably know already but I have a bad knee, I cannot get down on it to grovel properly”, the vicar pressed irritably.
And before Gus’ brain-to-mouth-filter had any time to boot up, he had already retorted with: “You shouldn’t anyway. It would only give me ideas.” Immediately, his head fell back to thud hard against the closed door. Fuck.
“I beg your pardon?” There was an unmistakable lilt of mirth to Max’ voice.
“Leave it, Max!”, Gus warned without lowering his head.
Naturally the vicar had no such intentions: “No no, this sounds rather like a confession and who better to tell it to than me.”
“Max”, Gus warned again, still not looking down. A moment later he felt hot, moist breath against his throat: “I gather from your involuntary admission that you were not only pissed off at me for lying but, more than that, hurt.”
Gus still refused to look at him. Of course he had been hurt. Was still.
Unfortunately the vicar had set foot on home-turf and refused to relent. Instead, he pushed closer, pressing his body flush against Gus’. This close, their usually negligible difference in heights was blatantly obvious. Gus had to turn his face to the side in order to keep avoiding eye-contact but with the vicar looming over him it was mostly a futile effort.
“I wasn’t aware that my sour disposition had ensnared you so”, Max’ voice was a deep baritone in his ear.
“Yeah, well, you don’t know my type”, Gus groused to the side. Still testy.
“I am all the more sorry for it”, confessed the vicar and as he spoke, Gus could feel his lips brushing his cheek. “It was never in my intention to hurt you. I honestly haven’t considered you caring for me so much.”
Gus shut his eyes: “Oh kindly shove it. I’m still very, very mad at you.”
“Duly noted. But, if I dare say so, I’ll wager that I could make this up to you. Although, proving that it’ll never happen again can only be done over time.”
“What the fuck are you going on about?”, growled Gus, still attempting his best to avoid the man plastered against his body. He failed miserably when Max only pushed deeper into him, caging him between his arms and pushing his bad leg between his thighs. Gus refused to gasp but the vicar seemed to notice his reaction anyway: “I wish to reconcile. And I think seduction might be my best strategy here.”
Gus rolled his eyes and wished his body weren’t such a damn traitor. But unfortunately there was no way Max could mistake his hardening cock against his leg for anything else. Just to keep up the pretence of his annoyance, he averted his face and groused: “And how do you plan to do that? What with your bad knee and all? The way I see it, I’ll be the one doing all the work.”
Max wouldn’t be impressed. All he did in response was rubbing the bridge of his nose along Gus’ jaw: “Not at all. You’ll see. But if you want to ride me later, you’re more than welcome.”
That cocky bastard! Gus couldn’t help his grin any longer. He grabbed the vicar’s lapel and issued one last warning: “If you ever do anything like that again, I’m going to kick you off this ship, you understand? I don’t want you to keep plans like that from me. I don’t want to kept in the dark. I don’t want to be played for a fool. Are we clear?”
Max was already leaning further forward. He nodded his full assent against Gus’ lips. His verbal acceptance was barely comprehensible: “I understand. Never again.”
Gus threw himself into the kiss, threw his arms around the vicar’s neck and threw his resistance over-board. Max caught his weight and intensity easily. “Please tell me you’re not just doing this for me?”
The man laughed into his mouth and ground his hips forward – making Gus feel his matching erection. Relieved, the captain launched himself into another steamy kiss. Max’ hands were stroking up and down his sides, making him shudder and moan.
Eventually the vicar transferred his kisses to the captain’s neck and, after pulling at his worn shirt, his exposed shoulder: “Shall we continue this to a carnal conclusion? Or would you rather wait?”
If only Gus weren’t so damn attracted to that arrogant, superior attitude with the poetic way of words… But he was. He so damn was. Fuck that stupid cleric!
“You really like the way I talk, don’t you”, Max drawled, having somehow read the other’s thoughts, “Suddenly all those grins and smiles whenever I speak make up an entirely different picture.”
“Don’t be so smug.”
“But you love that, don’t you”, teased the vicar and pressed his grin against Gus’ lips.
“Less and less”, the captain lied. Max only laughed. “Over there is my bed. Will we be using that? What is your plan?”
“That depends on how… romantic you want this to be”, purred the other.
Gus almost slapped him: “I’m not in the mood for vanilla sex.”
“Then how about I take you over your table? Would that be acceptable?”
“I’m about to slap you, Max. Don’t coddle me.”
The vicar grinned: “I would never.” Lies, so many lies.
Gus pulled him in harshly – for another kiss. Sometimes he worried about his taste in men. But he absolutely loved Max’ sarcastic attitude. He was still hungrily kissing the vicar while he blindly started taking off his clothes. For a split second he had to break their contact to extract himself from his shirt, which allowed the vicar another smug grin – which he smothered only a moment later.
His belt made a metallic noise when he unfastened it and another when he dropped his trousers altogether. Thankfully, he could toe off his boots without having to bend. Then he was nearly naked – only wearing his black briefs. Before he could reach for those, though, Max’ hands were on his hips – rubbing his flesh and wandering farther until he was grabbing Gus’ arse-cheeks.
“Give me a moment to catch up, will you”, the vicar purred and began opening the clasps on his robe. Gus watched him attentively, biting his lip in desire. The blue robes dropped to the floor and Max continued by taking off his shirt. When his upper body was bare, Gus gave in to the temptation and ran his palms up and down the vicar’s chest.
Max kissed him while he finished opening his trousers. Then he paused: “I’ll need a moment to take off my boots.”
Gus followed his receding lips: “I’ll help you.” He was fully aware of Max’ bad knee and didn’t mind helping him. Especially if it would place him on his knees before the man – hopefully that would further arouse the vicar.
“No”, Max stopped him gently, much to his surprise, “You’ll not. This time you won’t kneel. I’ll do this myself. I am trying to repent.”
It sounded very cheesy and kind of sweet but Gus was still a tiny bit disappointed. He watched, leant back against his table, as the vicar crossed over to his bed, sat and laboriously fought off first one, then the other boot. There was something unbearably hot about the way the man’s broad shoulders and strong arms flexed and how his scowl increased into proper annoyance over his debility.
Gus couldn’t care less. About the bad knee. He cared a lot about everything else. For example, about how the sinews in Max’s arms moved. How his big hands set down first one boot, and after a second fight, the other. He was huffing a little – maybe from the effort or, possibly, from his anger. He looked up at Gus, reflexively preparing to snap. But whatever he saw on the captain’s face, it made him pause.
Hopefully Gus looked as aroused as he felt.
His cock certainly stood at the ready.
“Are you really taking pleasure out me me wrangling off my boot?”, Max grinned.
Gus nodded, unashamed. Well, maybe a tiny bit embarrassed but he wouldn’t offer any more vulnerability than he already had. “You’re really hot when you’re angry.”
The vicar lowered his head, shaking it in incredulous laughter: “Considering that I am angry a lot, I should feel very lucky that you found me. Not a lot of people withstand my temper willingly for long. I’ll make sure to never upset you this badly ever again.”
“You’re not done making up for it, vicar”, Gus groused, not wanting to ruin the mood by being reminded of what had transpired. “Get on with it.”
Max huffed another laugh: “I apologize.” He dutifully stood and shoved down his pants, stepping out of them with minimal swaying.
Fuck. He was fully naked now. Gus had to lift his gaze to the ceiling, feeling the tingling in his cock growing stronger. For a vicar, Max was certainly fit. His broad shoulders and muscular chest would haunt Gus’s dreams for the weeks to come. As would his cock.
“Is there a specific reason why you’re staring at the ceiling?” Max had returned and was suddenly plastered along the captain’s front. His warm palms took hold of Gus’s waist, squeezing. Their cocks were pressing against each other – only separated by Gus’ briefs. Those quickly fell to the floor when the vicar’s hands slid them down, down, down. “Is it more captivating than me?”
Gus wanted to punch his nose. He shuddered, all over, when he felt the other’s cock sliding alongside his own. Max was thrusting languidly, keeping a firm hold on his hips. Gus moaned. “You’re so full of it…” He wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders, shuddering all over again when gentle kisses were peppered down his throat. “Ah~!”
He was suddenly lifted onto the table surface. Max’s broad palms on the back of his thighs simply nudged him up and he reflexively circled them around the man’s hips. It was so hot. “Ah~!” For a few moments, the vicar would continue to thrust their hips together while biting bruises onto the captain’s neck.
This was about to end very badly, Gus worried. He would come like this if Max didn’t hurry up. His cock was leaking, ready to spill over. It felt so good. The vicar’s body was warm and strong in his embrace. And he smelled so nice – of his trademark cologne, dark whiskey and smoke. Leather. Book dust.
“Nnngh~!”
Ok, he was fine with embarrassing himself further. He was on cloud nine and if he came right then and there, he would survive it. His cock was exquisitely squished between their bodies, rubbed laterally by the vicar’s own member.
Unfortunately, Max seemed to have different plans. Gus issued a displeased yell when he was unexpected pushed backward until he lay flat on his back on top of his desk: “What the-!”
Before he could scream abuse all of his objections evaporated into hot air as Max’s mouth closed around his cock.
“Oh~ fuck~!” He jerked, his thighs clamping around the vicar’s waist, his fingers clawing into his hair. “Fuck! AH! F~uck! Max!” The fucker hummed around his dick and Gus nearly convulsed: “OH!”
He came.
He hadn’t even had enough time to warn the other. From one moment to the next he simply felt all control ripped from him and his cock spurted several rows of pearly liquid right down Max’s throat. “Gnnnhh~!” Fuck. This was such bad etiquette. He huffed and panted and sweated and still trembled from the after-shocks of his orgasm.
Max, the smug fucker, pulled off of him – grinning like the cat with the canary: “Are you still with me, captain?”
He slapped him then. But with his arms feeling like jelly, it was hardly strong enough to count as anything but a loving caress. Max laughed at him for it. “Do you wish to continue?”
He’d rather cut open his belly before calling in defeat now. “You’re not leaving this room before I’ve had your dick in me.” A second later he realized what he had said and groaned in embarrassment, slapping his hands over his face. It didn’t help at all with how Max was laughing above him. “Shut up!”
The vicar was well and truly laughing then.
Gus stared morosely at the ceiling: “You know, this isn’t doing it for me.”
“What do you mean?”, the other man nearly wheezed.
“You’re killing the mood. You need to be sour and annoyed. Grumpy. Bitchy. You being this happy is not getting me hard.” He was sulking but he couldn’t help it. He shuddered when Max’s palm slowly wrapped around his not-quite-flaccid cock.
“Are you sure, captain?”, he drawled haughtily.
“Ah~!”
“Because the evidence attests something entirely different.”
“Nngh~!” Fuck.
“Also, I do not see you being prepared to take things further. Where are the necessary utensils?”
His back arched off the desktop.
“Have you anything at hand?”
“Fuck!”
“Did you prepare at all?”
That horrible, horrible fucker! Gus was fully hard once more and worried for his sanity. Normal people probably shouldn’t get off on some holier-than-though lecture. But Gus’ thighs trembled and his cock wept pitifully. His hands had come to cover Max’ hand as it kept stroking him slowly. He was still sensitive.
“I assume your silence can only mean that you didn’t. Well, how lucky for you that I’m trying to make amends. Let me help you.”
From one moment to the next, Gus found himself bent in half. His legs lifted, spread and pressed to the table on either side of his belly. He had never particularly rejoiced at his flexibility but in this moment he praised his daily morning routine of stretching exercises.
He nearly shouted.
Max was kissing down the underside of his cock, over his twitching balls and down still until he found his goal and licked a broad, wet strip over his hole.
It was a close call.
“Max! You-! Ah~! Fuck!”
Gus’s thighs quaked. His fingers were pulling at the vicar’s short hair. He groaned and gasped and sobbed as he felt the man’s tongue inside of him. He hadn’t expected their steamy make-up session to take quite this detour. He had expected a quick and dirty and rough fucking over his table. He had expected… Not this. “Ahngh~!”
Max was messily stretching him out, having added several of his fingers by this point.
He paused eventually, though: “No matter how much I enjoy you losing your wits by means of my tongue and fingers alone, if you really want to sit on my cock, we’ll have to procure pleasure oil. Anything less will unnecessarily hurt you. A prospect I am in no mood to tolerate.”
“Fuck…” The vicar needed to stop talking or Gus would slide right over the edge for a second time.
“Captain”, came the stern reminder, “are you listening?”
“Yeah but I’m not really… processing…”
“I’ll keep in mind, for the days when I cannot physically please you, for whatever reason, to simply read a book to you. For now, tell me where you keep your pleasure oil.”
Gus groaned and blushed: “Why would you think I keep something like that here?” He did. He just wanted to be difficult.
“You are a virile, young man. Of course you do.”
“It’s tucked beside my pillow.”
Max nodded and limped away to fetch it. Gus’ legs were free and hanging over the desk’s edge. His chest was heaving, already. His heart beating a forceful staccato against the inside of it. Fuck it. He’s had enough.
The vicar had just found the little glass bottle with the Auntie Cleo sticker peeled off when he felt hands push at his shoulders. His knee twinged and he twisted so that he landed with his arse on the mattress. Only the blink of an eye later, Gus was straddling him, seating himself onto his lap, and kissing him.
“Captain?”, Max managed to query around hungry lips, “This wasn’t the plan.”
“Fuck the plan”, Gus moaned, writhing his pelvis just so that he could rub their erections together. It sent a delicious spark of pleasure through his entire body. “Just gimme the oil.”
Max surrendered, falling back onto the pillow. Gus made quick word of coating his fingers into the cool and slick oil, warming it a little, and unceremoniously wrapped his so prepared palm around the cleric’s hard cock. Max hissed and his head stretched back, pressing into the pillow. His hips bucked, nearly dislodging Gus, who only grinned in triumph.
A quick shuffle and Gus had slid forward enough to now feel the vicar’s cock between his buttocks. He writhed a little, for good measure, and spread the oil where it mattered. If he kept stroking Max’ every now and then to gather more oil, well, he needed more, didn’t he? He bit his lower lip and grinned when the man grabbed his waist and thrust up against him.
“You’re… a veritable tease, captain”, Max ground out between grit teeth.
“Good”, Gus grinned wider and then simply angled the cleric’s cock just so before sinking himself down on it. He only managed slightly over half, then he had to pause. It had been a while. And his favourite holy-man wasn’t exactly on the modest end of the spectrum. Moaning under his breath, Gus lifted a bit and sank further. “F~uck…”
Thankfully, Max seemed similarly strained. His fingers were pressing angry red bruises into Gus’ hips and his breath fell his harsh puffs from between his pressed teeth. Drops of perspiration had gathered on his temples, making his short hair stick to his skin.
Gus finally, finally sat firmly on the man’s lap. He felt wonderfully full, indecently stretched and happy. With a soft grin and rushing heart, he leaned forward and kissed the vicar, hungrily. At first slowly but bit by bit picking up speed and strength, he undulated his hips. His body trembled upon every other move. It felt so good. Max felt so good. His cock rubbed him in all the right places, in just the right way. Everything was smooth and so deep.
“Nnngh~ fuck… Max…”
The vice-grip on his waist had lessened somewhat. Max in general had relaxed and was thrusting at just the right moment to meet Gus’ backward stretch.
“Fuck… ah~… Max…”
Gus’ forehead dropped to the other’s chin. This felt no longer refined or sexy… Instead, he seemed to consist of only fulfilled longing and pleasure. His pulse was pounding in his ears and cock. With nearly every thrust Max hit him right where he need it most. Electric sparks of ecstasy shot alongside his pulse through his entire body, making him shudder and twitch and moan. His rhythm could barely be recognized as such.
Beneath him, Max had planted his feet, widening his own stance to further spread Gus’ thighs. It afforded him better room to drive into him. His arms had wrapped around the captain’s back; one holding his hips in place, the other pushing over his neck – practically cuddling him. Gus’ own arms had given out. He was lying flat on the vicar’s sturdy body, his fingers curled into the man’s hair.
“Hhhn~ oh Max… nnh, fuck…”
Eventually Max’ bad knee gave out and his leg broke away. He cursed, hurt physically and in his pride. His rhythm faltered. Gus huffed a dry laugh and kissed him with fervour, refusing to let this upset the proud cleric. When his reassurance had hopefully come across, he sat back up, leaning slightly back and thus sinking himself even farther down onto the other’s cock.
“F~uck!”
Gus let his head fall back into his neck as he began a writhing, circling motion. His one palm reach behind him to find balance against Max’ thigh. The other wrapped around his own dick.
“Fuck!” He bucked his hips and moaned loudly. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Drops of sweat ran down his neck, his hair stuck to it. His muscles were tensely coiled, ready to squeeze his climax from him. “I’m gonn~ ah come… Max~… Tell me you’re close! Tell me-!”
The vicar was back at clutching his waist, angrily: “Been trying not to come!” As expected he sounded very annoyed over it and that pulled a breathless laugh from Gus: “Ridiculous… come on, Max -ah! Fuck! Give it to me!”
Never one to back down easily, Max made use of his good knee and thrust fast and hard up into Gus while keeping him rooted to his cock by pressing his hips down. With tiny leeway Gus rode his pounding as best as he could. It did not take long. Barely a handful of nudges to his firework-spot and he was coming. His body tensed and jerked, toes curling. Pleasure exploded from his loins into every corner of his body, beating stronger with every beat of his pulse.
He gasped and moaned, curling forward. He had to catch himself by planting his palms onto Max’ chest. His thighs veritably quivered. Fuck. He might have blacked out for a moment. Hopefully he wasn’t drooling.
Max was panting heavily beneath him, similarly tense and pressed so fucking deep into him, it was possible he would stay there forever. Gus felt his cock twitching inside of him and it made him moan all over, collapsing onto the other. He needed to breathe. He really needed to remember how to breathe. His heart was trying to beat a path out of his chest.
Warm, somewhat calloused palms rubbed over his buttocks, squeezing, then stroking up his sides and back and shoulders. The gentle caressing provoked more shudders and sighs and moans from Gus who fully relaxed and almost became a fluid on top of Max. He all but purred.
Finally, Max relaxed as well. Gus could feel his muscles uncoiling and a long, drawn-out sigh fanned over the side of his face.
He would fall asleep. Any moment.
Max’ cock was still inside of him, taking its time to become flaccid. The feeling was kind of nice, even if, with its softening, Gus could feel warm liquid trickle down the insides of his thighs. He writhed were he lay, snuggling more comfortably against his vicar. Warm arms wrapped around him in response, embracing him.
“Am I forgiven?”
Gus shuddered. Max’ voice so near to his ear, so unfamiliarly deep and raspy, made goosebumps erupt along his limbs and back. The cleric must have noticed, because feather-light fingertips followed their wake. Gus sighed and pressed his head more closely into the crook beneath the other’s chin. He wriggled his own arms beneath Max’ body, somehow, hugging him back.
“No.”
The resulting laugh made Gus shake where he lay on the holy-man’s chest. “Really?”
“No”, the captain sighed and shook his head although it ended up to be more of a nuzzling into Max’ skin. “You should keep begging for forgiveness. This was spectacular.” It had been. Even more than that. If he were only a little less… worn out, he would have the vicar fuck him all over again.
More exhausted but fond laughter.
“Or, for a change, I could piss you off and you could vent your frustration on me.”
„I must admit“, the Vicar rumbled, „so far you have been the one to annoy me the least. In fact, every step of the way you‘ve surprised me with your education and insight and creativity.“
This sounded rather sincere. Not at all falling into the playfulness Gus had been employing. But the admission warmed him. He squeezed the vicar’s body where he had his arms wrapped around him. “Then have a little faith in me. And be my friend. Don’t lie to me.”
He was squeezed as well and felt a gentle kiss against his forehead: “Never again, my captain.”
END