“You’re going down, Lieutenant!” Brenna Decker cries, her fingers furious on the game controller as, onscreen, her avatar winds up for the killing strike.
But Lee Mallory isn’t ready to concede defeat just yet. “The way you say it makes it sound like you outrank me,” he mutters, gripping his own controller as he thumbs the buttons to position his avatar to make his own final hit.
Brenna laughs and shakes her bangs out of her eyes. “I was sworn in first,” she reminds him. As if that counts. “So technically, I do outrank you. And I’m about to kick your ass. Do yourself a favor and give up now.”
“You wish.”
They’re playing Owned, a 3D fighting game where heavily armored combatants spar in a cage fight before a live audience. “Live” means online—the cheering crowd consists of other players logged into the server to watch the gameplay. Each fight lasts three rounds; the player who wins the most rounds wins the match and ten thousand ril, the game’s money, which can be used to buy bigger and better armor and weapons. After three rounds, the game resets and two players from the audience face off next. It’s an addicting game—to play and watch—and Mallory’s lost many free hours staring at the screen. His hands might ache in the morning, and he might stifle a yawn when he’s on patrol, but he’s one of the biggest and baddest players in the game. He doesn’t go by the handle Maullory for nothing.
Brenna’s a good opponent, he’ll give her that. She holds her own in the cage, and usually takes down any challenger. Any challenger but him, that is. When playing, she goes by her last name, which Lee thinks is a little unoriginal, but it works. Her signature catch phrase, uttered when she’s lined up to finish off her foe, is, “I’m’ll deck you!” A kick spin aimed at her opponent’s waist, followed by three rapid bunny kicks in the solar plexus, each harder than the last, and she raises her hands in victory as her opponent hits the floor.
The first time Lee saw the move, he pointed out, “You know, decking someone usually means punching them. With your fist.”
“Pssh,” Brenna scoffed. “It means making them hit the deck. He’s on the floor, ain’t he? Therefore, he’s been decked.”
As stunning as it is to watch Brenna deck her opponent, Lee isn’t interested in being on the receiving end of the move. This is the third round and they’re tied, one win each. The winner of this round wins the match. Lee can see Brenna’s moving into position, readying herself to launch into that deadly kick spin, and he backs up a few paces. His own killing blow requires some space, anyway—at the last minute he rushes his foe, getting in close, and hits ‘em with a volley of uppercuts, left right left right, each fist battering the midsection. When his opponent staggers back, Lee punches faster, moving up the torso, angling for the chest. The final blow is a wicked right hook under his opponent’s chin, sending the poor loser back against the cage or down onto the floor. Then Lee crows, “You got mauled!”
His focus narrows to the computer screen and nothing else. The rec room onboard the starship USS Nova disappears; the roar of the crowd in his headphones drowns out the sound of soldiers’ laughter and downtime chit chat. Lee is in the zone, ready to strike, ready to wipe Brenna out. When she launches into her kickspin, he dances out of the way, and her bunny kicks connect with nothing but air. Then he closes in, ready to rumble—
“Ten-hut!”
Lee barely registers Brenna surging to her feet beside him. On the screen, her avatar stops like a deactivated robot, arms at the side, head down, waiting for the inevitable. “Got you now, Decker,” Lee mutters as he punches the combination of keys needed to execute his final move.
Brenna nudges him with her foot. “Lee,” she whispers, urgent.
“You can’t stop me now,” he tells her. In the game, his avatar begins the pummeling blows that will bring her down.
Another nudge, this one almost a real kick. “Lee!”
Then a shadow falls over him, and a sardonic voice drawls, “Apparently Lieutenant Mallory thinks he outranks us all.”
Annoyed, Lee starts, “I’m close to winning—” Then he glances up only to find Commander Jonan Thomas glaring back at him.
Suddenly the game is forgotten. Dropping his controller, Lee scrambles to his feet. “Sir, sorry, sir! I didn’t—”
“Didn’t what, Lieutenant?” This close, Thomas’s pale skin looks like fine porcelain in the solar simulation light. His dark eyes are so blue, they’re almost black, and hard as obsidian as he stares down Lee. Veins stand out at his temples, and throb across the top of his shaved pate. A muscle in his jaw twitches in anger.
Lee’s voice drops to a barely audible murmur. “Didn’t see you’d come in. Sir.”
“Didn’t see…” Thomas growls in irritation. “I guess you also didn’t see Captain Strickland either, did you?”
Lee dares to look past his commanding officer. Now he sees the ship’s captain, Aurora Strickland, the bemused look on her face a stark contrast to the thinly veiled fury on Thomas’s. Standing straighter, if that’s even possible, Lee snaps off a belated salute. “Captain. My apologies, sir.”
She holds his stare a moment longer. Then, with a barely perceptible nod, she sweeps the rest of the room with her gaze. “As you were, soldiers. The commander and I are only here for a drink.”
Everyone visibly relaxes, but before Lee can move, Thomas is in his face again. “Not you, sunshine,” Thomas says. “Drop and give me twenty.”
Lee sighs. “But Commander—”
“Make that fifty,” Thomas amends.
An unconscious sigh of annoyance escapes Lee. “Sir—”
“Do you want a hundred?” Thomas counters.
Lee doesn’t. What he wants is to go back to his game—the highest ranking officer in the room already gave the command to relax—but he knows better than to go toe to toe with Thomas. The man’s had it in for him ever since he was assigned to Thomas’s command. For some reason Lee hasn’t been able to figure out, Thomas rides his ass harder than any other soldier in their unit. Lee’s always getting extra laps or push-ups, for relatively minor infractions. Hell, he’s just trying to play a damn game, is that too much to ask?
Apparently so. Without another word Lee drops to the floor, landing on his palms and toes, and he starts to roll through the push-ups quickly.
But that isn’t good enough for Thomas. “Count ‘em off,” he orders.
Lee draws in a deep breath to keep from saying anything that will get him into further trouble. On the next push-up, he counts out loud. “Four.”
“From one,” Thomas tells him.
Jesus Christ! Lee keeps his head down so Thomas won’t see him roll his eyes. That’d probably earn him five hundred push-ups, if he isn’t careful. Through gritted teeth, he bites off, “One.”
Thomas stands in front of him a moment longer, until Lee’s up to four again, then turns to join the captain at the bar. Brenna resumes her seat on the cushions beside Lee, grabbing her controller with a smirk on her face. “Guess I’ve got you now, huh, Mallory?”
“Shut up,” Lee grumbles. Louder, he calls out, “Ten.”
“Where were we?” Brenna asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. She arches her brows and takes her time setting up for the killing blow. “Ah yes, I remember. You’re going down.”
“That’s not fair! Wait ‘til I’m done.”
But Brenna laughs. “Too late. I’m’ll deck you. Oh, wait. I already did.”
“Girl,” Lee warns.
From across the room, Thomas hollers, “I don’t hear you counting.”
Lee yells out the next number. “Twelve, sir!”
“No, it isn’t. Start again.”
Fuck me, Lee thinks, biting back an acrid reply. If he isn’t careful, he’ll be on the goddamn floor all night at the rate he’s going.
What’d he ever do to get on the commander’s bad side?
* * * *
To be honest, things between Lee and his CO started off on the wrong foot, and have only gone downhill ever since. Lee’s been assigned to the Nova for five years, but Thomas came aboard about ten months ago, transferred when the squadron’s previous commander was promoted to a position offship. Lee had known they’d be getting a new CO, but figured there would be some sort of official ceremony welcoming and introducing the commander.
The last place he expected to make his new CO’s acquaintance was at the gym.
In Lee’s defense, when he first saw Thomas, he didn’t even know they’d been assigned a new commander yet. At that time, he thought someone already onboard would be promoted to the position, and secretly suspected it would be Brenna. He knew he didn’t have a chance at it—there were more than a handful of reports written up in his file about his lackadaisical attitude, and the old CO had caught him more than once playing games on his tablet when he was on duty. He didn’t know they were sending in someone offship, and even if he had, the guy on the pull-up bar looked more like a new recruit than a seasoned commander.
From where he stood by the bench press Brenna was using, Lee watched the guy openly. There was a feline fluidity in his movements, a sensuous motion in the way he lifted himself almost effortlessly head and shoulders above the steel bar. Ankles crossed, knees bent, knuckles white where he gripped the bar. His face was ruddy with exertion, making the faint smudge of hair across his scalp appear so light, it almost glowed.
“Hmm,” Lee murmured with appreciation. “Check out the fresh meat.”
Brenna let the barbell drop back into its cradle. “Hello? You’re supposed to be watching me. That’s sort of what spotting means.”
“You’re doing fine.” Lee leaned on the barbell with both hands before she could lift it again. “Who do you think that is?”
Sitting up halfway to look, Brenna shook her head. “Don’t know. He isn’t in our division.”
“No shit.” Lee ran a hand through his hair, then patted it to make sure it was flat. “What do you think? Should I go talk to him? What’s your gaydar say?”
Brenna rolled her eyes and laid back on the bench. “It says stop salivating over a fellow officer and spot me.”
“Officer?” Lee watched the man release the bar and drop to the ground. In one fluid moment, he was on hands and toes, cranking out pushups. Nothing he wore indicated any rank. “How do you know he’s an officer?”
She frowned up at him. “Does he look like he’s enlisted to you? Besides, idiot, we’re in the officers’ gym. Now spot me.”
Before Lee could reply, she aimed a fist above her head and punched him in the thigh.
“Hey!” he cried, jumping back. “Watch the goods, will you?”
“Only if you watch me,” Brenna snapped.
So Lee kept an eye on her as she benched the weight, but most of his attention was diverted to the sexy guy now doing side planks. Lee toyed with the idea of approaching him, but how would that look? Hey, I saw you exercising. You’re kinda hot. Any way he played it out in his head, he knew it sounded like nothing more than a bad pickup line.
The guy jumped up from the plank and ran in place, feet a blur, knees pumping double time. Then he started doing lunges, alternating legs and turning a quarter turn with each set.
As he turned, Lee admired the way his little gym shorts pulled taut across his pert ass. When he added arm crunches to his routine, the muscles in his arms stood out, veins cabling in relief.
Lee watched, entranced. He liked this one—so energetic. What would that energy be like in bed? His dick stirred at the sight of the guy’s buttocks flexing beneath the thin fabric. He imagined them both naked together, in his quarters, that round ass clenched tight and waiting beneath him. He could almost feel that pliant flesh in his hands as he massaged those ass cheeks, kneaded them, then pushed them together to ease his cock between them. He could almost see the dark tip of his dick peek out between the juicy twin mounds as he humped them once, twice, God. Just thinking about it made him hard.
Below him, Brenna made an exasperated sound. “Dude, you’re tenting. Chill.”
Lee shifted his legs to hide his budding erection. Budding? Hell, a few minutes more and he’d get off on his fantasy alone.
The barbell clanked back into the rack and Brenna sat up. Then she grabbed her towel off the bench and wiped the sweat off her face. With a sigh, she said, “Look, I know when I’m being ignored.”
“I’m not ignoring you!” Lee jiggled the barbell. “Come on, you need to get in your reps. I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m done. Go talk to him already, will you?”
Sudden fear lurched in Lee’s chest. “What? I can’t. I don’t know him.”
“But you want to,” Brenna said. “So go over there and introduce yourself.”
“No!”
Across the gym, the guy they were discussing stopped exercising abruptly, as if he’d heard them. He raised his left leg, then reached back with his right hand to grab his foot and pull it back into a slow stretch. After a moment, he switched legs. Then he twisted at the waist, and he caught Lee staring.
Lee felt his face flush. God.
“He knows you now,” Brenna said. “Go on, man up.”
Before Lee could gather up his courage, the guy grabbed a nearby towel to wipe down and headed their way.
“Go on,” Brenna hissed.
The pressure was on. Lee’s palms grew slick, his cheeks burned. This was it, his moment, go for it. But what should he say? “Hey baby,” was a bit too blunt, but “Sup” sounded too informal. The guy was coming closer, he was almost close enough to speak to, damn.
Suddenly Lee’s mind locked up, and his mouth moved on its own. His tongue curved over his teeth, his bottom lip curled, and he let out a randy whistle.
The guy froze and stared at them. His eyes were dark—blue? black? Lee wasn’t sure, but they flashed under heavy brows knit together in confusion or anger, one of the two. Not exactly the reaction Lee had hoped for.
“Was that directed at me?” the guy asked.
His voice was level, calm. Maybe Lee was misreading the situation. Still, just to be safe, he gave a one-shouldered shrug and made a noncommittal noise he hoped could be read as either yes or no, depending on how it was interpreted.
The guy looked unimpressed. “What’s your name, mister?”
Maybe he was interested, after all. Lee tamped down the flicker of hope in his chest. “Lee. Lee Mallory with the 58th. This is—”
“Lieutenant Mallory.”
The blasé way he drew out Lee’s name set off all kinds of warning bells. “How’d you know my rank?”
Rubbing the towel over his close-cropped hair, the guy sounded casually disinterested as he replied, “You’re right. We haven’t been formally introduced. But I’ve heard all about you, Lieutenant.”
Beside him, Brenna groaned. “Oh no.”
Lee still didn’t get it. “What do you mean?”
“He’s our new CO,” Brenna moaned.
Now he smiled, a cold, hard slash across his face. “It’s Thomas. And you’ll address me as Commander or sir, is that understood?”
“Sir! Yes, sir!” Lee snapped to attention, as if that might help dig him out of trouble.
It didn’t. “So I’ll ask you again,” Thomas drawled. “Was that whistle directed at me?”
Lee didn’t know how to answer, what to say. What could he say? “Um…”
“Wrong answer.” Thomas nodded at the track lines on the floor. “Give me eight laps.”
Two miles, ugh. “But sir—”
“Make that twelve.” Thomas stared Lee down.
It didn’t help that he only looked sexier, his jaw bunched with anger, his muscles still sheathed in sweat. His gaze latched squarely on Lee, whose dick was beginning to throb in the confines of his sweats. “Sir…”
“Do you want sixteen?” Thomas asked.
Lee shook his head. “No, sir. No.”
With a slight nod, Thomas acquiesced. “Then twelve.” When Lee still hesitated, Thomas nodded again. “Sometime today, Lieutenant.”
“Fuck,” Lee muttered under his breath.
“Your own fault,” Brenna whispered back.
Thomas leaned forward, one hand cupped around his ear. “What was that?”
With a sigh, Lee muttered, “Nothing. Sir.”
“Then get running.”
As Lee began to jog, he wished he could somehow make a better first impression. But he couldn’t, and Thomas has had it in for him ever since.
* * * *
A few days after the latest incident in the rec room, Lee catches up with Brenna on the mess deck. She sits by herself, picking at a salad while reading on her tablet. Lee drops his lunch tray onto the table in front of hers, then hooks his long legs around the attached stool before sliding onto the seat. Without looking up from her tablet, Brenna says, “Whatever you want from me, the answer is no.”
Lee tries to look surprised and hurt at the same time, and fails miserably. “Can’t a guy have lunch with a friend without having an ulterior motive?”
“A guy can, sure,” Brenna admits. “But I know you. And the answer is still no.”
“You haven’t even heard me out yet.”
Now she glances at him, a knowing smirk on her face. “Hm-mmm. No ulterior motive, my ass.”
“Look,” Lee reasons, “all I want is a do-over. You and me in the cage like before, but this time without any interruption. Unless you’re scared I really will win in a fair fight.”
Brenna scoffs. “Yeah, like you were playing fair when I snapped to attention.”
“I was already winning,” Lee hedged, but to be honest, they’d been dead even with one round each. Still, if Thomas hadn’t interrupted…
“Bullshit.” Brenna stabs a forkful of lettuce and shoves the whole thing in her mouth. Around the food, she mumbles, “I beat you fair and square.”
“You did not.” Lee can’t believe they’re arguing over this. He was the one who’d been winning, at least until Thomas came along. But arguing about it won’t get them anywhere. “Whatever. Let’s just do it again, please? The last one didn’t really count anyway—”
She gives him a wide-eyed, innocent look he wants to punch off her face. “Why? Because you lost?”
“I did not—” Lee takes a deep breath, reining in his emotions. She’d love to see him lose it, throw a childish fit or, worse, beg. It’s just a stupid game, a voice inside him whispers, but he doesn’t want to listen. His Owned record was undefeated until she took advantage of him while he was down…literally.
So he forces a smile that feels pasted on his face and tries to sound nonchalant, as if it isn’t all that big a deal she doesn’t want a rematch. “Come on, one more time. What do you say?”
Turning off her tablet, Brenna rolls her eyes. “I say no.” When he opens his mouth to protest, she points her fork at him. “One, because I’d just beat you again—”
“You would not,” Lee snaps.
Brenna ignores him. “And two, because Thomas has banned all video games in the rec room after your little stunt.”
“Stunt?” This time Lee’s wounded surprise is real. “I didn’t hear him come in.”
“I tried to tell you,” Brenna counters. “You were too busy trying to win.”
“Another minute or two and I would’ve.”
“Yeah, well.” Brenna turns back to her tablet. “Thanks to you, none of us can play anything now. At least nothing multiplayer. He’s blocked the game server on all public terminals, and threatened a global ban if he finds anyone trying to access it on their own devices. I don’t know about you, but I sure don’t want to get caught just to prove to you I’d still win.”
“Stop saying that,” Lee growls.
Ignoring him, Brenna adds, “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you like it when Thomas busts your balls, but personally, I’d rather not do a hundred push-ups or two miles around the track, thank you very much.”
Lee slouches back. “I don’t know why he hates me so damn much. All because of one stupid little whistle. He isn’t even really all that hot. He acts like I’m the worst officer ever, and I don’t cut up any more than anyone else does, you know?”
Brenna gives him a sardonic look that asks, Oh really? Aloud, she says, “Yeah. poor you. Never doing anything wrong and still getting knocked down for it.”
“I didn’t say that,” Lee protests. “But he’s had it in for me since day one, and you know it. I can’t do anything right.”
With arched brows, Brenna says, “Your words, not mine.”
“He hates me,” Lee says. “End of story. So are we going to fight again or not?”
“Not.” Brenna shakes her head in disbelief. “I won, end of story. If you want to log into the game server and get in trouble, go ahead, but leave me out of it.”
“Chicken.” Lee knows she’s right—he shouldn’t tempt fate, Thomas doesn’t like him as it is—but part of him chafes at being told what to do. Newsflash: then the military isn’t for you.
Returning to her tablet, Brenna says, “Whatever. But if you get caught and Thomas bans all of us from the server, he won’t be the only one who hates you after that.”
Lee picks up his tray, no longer hungry. “You’re just scared because you know I’d win,” he mutters, then hurries off before she can contradict him and get in the last word.
* * * *
When Lee gets off duty at 2100 hours, he skips the rec room—why bother going if he can’t play? At least in his quarters, he’s able to connect to the games server on his tablet, even if Owned is slow to load on the handheld device. Thomas hasn’t yet banned all games, but he knows he’ll have to be careful. After logging in, his first stop is the main chat room, where he scrolls through the usernames looking for any he recognizes. Brenna must’ve been serious about staying away, though, because she isn’t listed, and when he clicks on her name in his list of previous opponents, it shows her as offline.
Figures. She beat him once and now she’s too scared to try him again. In a fair fight, she knows he’ll win.
He goes back to the chat room, looking for someone with stats comparable to his. He wants a challenger, not someone he can knock over in a minute and a half. Someone worthy of fighting him. Someone—
Suddenly a private chat request appears on his screen. New message from JoTho: Accept or Reject?
Lee taps Accept, even though he doesn’t recognize the username. He’s used to such requests—he’s a damn good player, in the top fifty on the leaderboard, the top 5 onboard the Nova, so he always gets offers whenever he logs on. Just because Bren doesn’t want to fight him doesn’t mean he isn’t in high demand.
A small window appears in the center of his screen.
JoTho: yo dude u wanna fite?
Lee rolls his eyes. Spell much? he thinks. This JoTho’s probably some twelve-year-old kid back on Earth, hiding his tablet under his blankets because he’s supposed to be asleep. His parents will be in for a rude awakening when the data bill arrives. Probably isn’t even worth fighting. Lee clicks on JoTho’s avatar to see his stats.
Then he changes his mind.
Not bad, he thinks, scrolling through the numbers. Not as good as his own, but then again, few are. A glance through JoTho’s past opponents reads like roll call for the Nova—he’s played most everyone on the ship, including everyone into the game in Lee’s squadron except for Lee himself.
And beaten most of them, too.
The handful of players JoTho hasn’t bested are the same ones Lee can’t quite conquer yet. No one from the Nova, but a few offworlders Lee thinks win by cheating somehow. But JoTho beat Brenna, and badly, so he probably thinks Lee’s a sure win.
Yeah right, fella. Prepare to lose.
Without answering the message, Lee sends JoTho a fight request.
He gets a one-word response—lol—then the screen refreshes; JoTho has accepted his request. On screen now is a rotating, 360° view of Lee’s avatar, with callouts highlighting aspects of his armor he can change, if he wants. A display shows his current stats, everything from Strength and Defense to Reflexes and Endurance. Lee gives everything a quick onceover to make sure it looks good, then clicks the pulsing Ready to Rumble! button.
There’s a small delay as the system sets up the arena. For a moment Lee only sees himself in the cage. Then another player appears, heavily armored with spiked plates. That’s a little scary. JoTho dwarfs him, but Lee’s learned size isn’t always a good judge of a player. In the confines of the cage, being too big can actually be a handicap sometimes.
Alone in his quarters, Lee murmurs out loud, “Looks like someone’s compensating for something here.” Did he think the kid was twelve? That was being generous. He’s probably a nerdy teenager who plays Owned every night instead of going out and trying to get laid. What a loser.
Below the arena, there’s a message area where opponents can chat during the game, if they want. Most use it for trash talk—that’s where a player’s catch phrase appears right before the killing blow. The only other time Lee’s ever seen it used was to notify him that his opponent would BRB between rounds. He uses the acronym himself sometimes, and can’t help but think it should stand for bathroom break instead of be right back. Because, let’s face it, where else would someone have to go in the middle of a game?
Every now and then, an opponent will type something sporting before the fight begins, like good luck. Lee used to do that, but few ever bothered to return the gesture, so he stopped. Now he just hits the Play button as fast as he can before the game actually starts so he’ll come out swinging and, hopefully, get in the first hit.
But the avatars just stand there, deactivated. JoTho has to hit Play, too, or the game won’t begin. “C’mon, asshole,” Lee mutters under his breath.
A little pencil icon appears in the chat box. Lee waits, curious to see if this kid’s a good sport—and will wish him luck—or if he’s a little shit and will try to scare Lee with tough talk.
When words finally appear, Lee’s surprised it’s something completely different from what he expected.
JoTho: a/s/l
He can’t be serious, can he? Lee marvels. Who hits up someone they’re fighting against? Angrily, Lee types a response.
Maullory: just play
JoTho: a/s/l
A low growl escapes Lee. Obviously he’s male—his avatar is, hello? While he knows some male players who use female avatars, he doesn’t know any women who use male ones. Sure, there are a few androgynous avis that could be either gender, or none at all, but it’s a poorly kept secret that some of the best upgrades are only available for the female skins. Plus, he supposed some guys got their kicks off playing as a woman, or maybe they even used the female guises to get close to real women through the game.
Lee wouldn’t know. He isn’t here to hook up; he only wants to win.
When he doesn’t reply immediately, JoTho sends another message.
JoTho: a/s/l
Maullory: sorry, not interested. just play
JoTho: a/s/l
“Fuck,” Lee mutters. Well, if it’ll shut him up and get things rolling…
Maullory: 28 gm uss nova now play
JoTho: u on the nova 2? cool
Lee rolls his eyes. How convenient, this loser claims to be stationed on the same starship he is, which just happens to be one of the largest in the military’s fleet. Even if the guy tossed out a squadron number and rank, Lee has no way of verifying it.
Maullory: just play
JoTho: jeez just tryin 2 b nice. don’t u want to know my a/s/l?
Maullory: no just play
He should know better than to think that’ll be the end of it. Nothing’s ever so easy. No matter how often he jabs the Play button, neither avatar moves onscreen. What’s it going to take to get this guy to play?
Apparently more than Lee thinks. The pencil appears again, and a moment later:
JoTho: whats gm mean?
Lee has to look back at their exchange to see what he’s talking about.
Maullory: gm = gay man happy?
JoTho: me 2
Because of course you are, Lee thinks, unimpressed.
Another button now appears on the screen: Cancel. If a game isn’t started within thirty seconds, the players get the option to cancel altogether. Another thirty seconds and they’ll both be booted from the arena. Lee almost looks forward to that; then at least he can find another opponent to fight before he has to hit the sack.
Maullory: play or i’ll quit
JoTho: u gotta guy?
Maullory: no now play
JoTho: top or bottom?
Maullory: just PLAY!
This is his first time being hit on while playing. Then again, most people who play do so because they like the game; they aren’t looking to hook up. Though Lee has to admit it’s been awhile since he was last with someone. What, four months ago? When they docked at the last space station and got a few days of R&R while they refueled. And it wasn’t even a real guy, either, just a porn-bot with pouty lips and pretty eyes, and an ass that wouldn’t quit.
On the one hand, if this JoTho really is on the Nova, getting together might not be the worst thing in the world. But if he’s only a pimply kid offworld somewhere—or worse, a cybercop looking to trap a pervert by pretending to be a kid—then Lee’s better off not setting himself up.
I should just ignore him.
Before he can change his mind, Lee hits the Cancel button. A popup asks, Are you sure? Y or N, and Lee taps Y twice before the arena disappears. Suddenly Lee finds himself out in the main chat room again. Disgusted, he sets his status to Ready in the hopes of enticing another opponent and prays he gets at least one taker before he has to call it a night.
Almost immediately, he gets an alert. New message from JoTho: Accept or Reject?
Lee’s forefinger hovers over Reject. He should kick this guy to the curb and be done with it.
But if he’s really here on the Nova, and seriously interested in starting something outside the game server…
Knowing he’ll regret it, Lee taps Accept. Before the message even loads, he types, What?
JoTho: look
There’s an attachment. When Lee taps it, a photo opens and zooms in, covering the entire screen. It’s of a man’s naked, hairy thighs and thick, fat, erect cock jutting up from the mass of dark pubes between them.
Lust spikes through Lee. Suddenly his sweatpants feel too tight across the crotch. Jesus.
Then the image disappears, replaced with:
JoTho: u like?
Maullory: how do i know that’s really u?
JoTho: o that’s me, alright. all 8 inches. u want it?
Maullory: prove it
He waits, thinking he’s called the guy’s bluff. A dick that perfect can only be an image grabbed off a porn site somewhere. But just as he thinks JoTho isn’t going to come through, a new attachment appears.
Lee opens it.
He sees the same legs, the same dick, only this time there’s a handheld phone in the picture, too. A hand holds it up so the screen faces Lee, and he can easily read today’s date and the current time on it. So the photo’s real—Lee thinks the phone’s shadow on the guy’s thighs is probably not a detail someone would think of to fake.
Adrenaline surges through him, making his hands tremble and his cock stiffen. Still, he plays coy.
Maullory: nah bro i’m an ass man myself
JoTho: one sec
Lee waits an indeterminable moment, not sure what to expect. Then a third picture comes in, and Lee opens it to see a man’s sweet buttocks, high and tight and dimpled. The cheeks are clenched so tightly, Lee can almost hear the muscles hum. Sweet Lord above.
JoTho: now u like?
Maullory: oh yeah
JoTho: so show me urs
The request isn’t unreasonable. Suddenly Lee’s no longer thinking of getting in a few rounds of Owned tonight, or the possibility he’s being played. Grabbing the waistband of his sweats, he leans back and pulls them down. He always goes commando in his quarters after hours, nothing on but a pair of sweatpants he takes off before heading to bed. He likes to sleep in the nude. Now he tucks the sweats beneath his balls and his dick flicks up at attention, ready to rumble. Lee snaps a photo with his tablet, then sends it to JoTho.
Maullory: think u can handle this?
JoTho: fuck yeah man tell me when & where
The evening just got a lot more interesting.
* * * *
Lee stays logged into the game server, but he sets his status to Busy and blocks all fight requests. He doesn’t know if JoTho has done the same, or if he’s chatting to a couple other people in addition to Lee, or joining in a fight here and there, or what. At first his replies seem delayed, but as the private chat gets hot and heavy, Lee’s pretty sure his attention is right where it should be.
On Lee.
Maullory: so what’s ur name?
JoTho: call me joe
Maullory: is that ur name?
JoTho: it’s my username. what’s urs?
Maullory: lee what’s ur squad?
Instead of replying, Joe sends another photo. Lee leans back in his chair, tablet on the desk, one lotioned hand stroking his dick and the other tapping out responses in hunt and peck fashion. He grips his cock tight as JoTho’s latest image opens, then pinches the sensitive tip when a close-up shot of a tightly puckered asshole fills his screen.
A thin foam of precum bubbles out of Lee’s slit. Jesus, he’s tight.
Still, just to make sure…
Maullory: how do I know that’s still you?
JoTho: look at the freckle in my crack, same as my other pic
Lee sees the perfectly round black dot at the tip of Joe’s tailbone, like a north star above his hole. One-handed, he taps through the open images to find the other one Joe sent; as each photo flickers open, Lee takes a moment to stroke his dick, his circled fist sliding up smoothly from the root to tweak the tip in one long motion. Then he strums down his length and squeezes again, hard, at the base. God, he’s hard. He should take the tablet into the bathroom and sit in the shower stall, make cleanup a little easier.
Then he finds the ass pic Joe sent earlier and thumbs the flared head of his cock as the image fills his tablet screen. Now he sees it, a tiny mole above the round globes of firm ass Joe presented to the camera.
JoTho: c it?
Maullory: yea ok
JoTho: do u like it?
Maullory: damn u have a fine ass
JoTho: tell me what u’d do 2 it
Lee hesitates. He isn’t one for dirty talk—at least, not outside the bedroom. But technically I’m in my bedroom, he reasons. Dick in hand, even. I’ll be ready to shoot my load in another couple minutes. What’ll it hurt?
But whatever he types will be written down, easily saved and accessible later. In a chat room, at that—a private one, sure, but still. A few choice screenshots and he could be demoted all the way down to ensign if he isn’t careful.
As if oblivious of the danger, his newfound buddy eggs him on.
JoTho: tell me what u want 2 do 2 me
JoTho: u still there lee?
Maullory: i’m here what do u want me 2 do?
JoTho: take charge. i give orders all day. i need a man who will order me around in the sack. that u?
Lee thinks it could be. If Joe gives orders all day, that means he’s an officer, at least. Most likely he’s a lieutenant like Lee is. As long as they’re in different squads, any liaison between them shouldn’t be that big a deal.
Throwing caution to the wind, he stops fondling himself and types with both hands now, fingers flying across the onscreen keyboard.
Maullory: 1st thing get down on ur knees & open wide. take my dick in far as it’ll go
JoTho: i can take it all
Maullory: hm, we’d see. pics don’t do it justice. i’m a good 8 inches, and thick. i’d fuck ur mouth til i’m hard & wet
His tablet pings as another attachment comes in. Lee clicks on it—not a photo this time, but a short video, almost a gif. In it, Joe’s sitting in his chair again, one hand pumping his cock, the muscles in his thighs flexing as his hips thrust in quick, little movements. It’s mesmerizing, and Lee can’t look away. He grabs his dick again and matches his pace to Joe’s, pushing against his palm every time it presses to his pubes, then massages up his length again to twist his fingers beneath the flared head of his cock.
Damn.
JoTho: what else u got? more than a bj, i hope.
Maullory: i’d flip u over & grab ur hips 2 hold u steady
JoTho: then???
Maullory: rub my dick along ur crack, push my balls against ur hole
JoTho: omg i’m gonna cum
Maullory: i haven’t even gotten 2 the best part yet
JoTho: which is?!?
Lee hesitates. He’s getting caught up in the fantasy and doesn’t even know this guy. Joe claims to be stationed on the Nova, but what if Lee’s being catfished?
I’m not doing anything wrong, he reasons. Just words on a screen in a chatroom. I’m not actually having sex.
Surely that counts for something, doesn’t it?
JoTho: don’t leave me hanging lol i’m on my knees in front of u with ur fat one rubbing against my ass. r u gonna fuck me or not?
Maullory: i’d ease in slow, savoring ur tightness. push all the way in, then pull ur butt against me, all the way flush with my body
JoTho: yes yes!
Maullory: then i’d pound u, hard, as hard as u can take
JoTho: god yes, i can take it all
Maullory: i’d pump into u, really driving in. one hand on ur hip, the other between ur legs to jerk u off
JoTho: i’m close 2 cumming already
Maullory: think of me when u get off
JoTho: i don’t want to waste this. i want u here with me. i need 2 feel u in me
Maullory: maybe sometime
JoTho: y not 2nite?
Lee’s cock and balls throb with desire. But it’s getting late, almost lights out. After 2200 hours, anyone not on watch is supposed to stay in their quarters until morning. As much as Lee’s enjoying this little chat, things between them won’t be going any further this evening.
Well, they shouldn’t. Technically nothing’s stopping him from leaving his room, but if he’s caught without a reason to be out, he’ll be brought up before his CO. God, that’s the last thing he needs now.
As he’s searching for a way to respond that won’t piss off Joe and still leave open the possibility of a future hook-up, the call for lights out pops up on his screen. At the same time the white bar of light set waist-high into every wall on the Nova turns red, an indication the ship’s overnight watch has begun.
Maullory: dude, lights out
JoTho: no! stay up w/me.
Maullory: its getting late
JoTho: going 2 bed already? u got morning watch?
Maullory: no but we can’t do nothing anyway. don’t want to get caught. my co will have my ass.
JoTho: u say that like its a bad thing.
Maullory: you don’t understand, he hates me
JoTho: who could hate u?
Lee grins at the screen. Ha ha, he types. As much as he’d love to throw caution to the wind and say the hell with it, it’ll be just his luck that the moment he steps out into the corridor, Thomas will be there ready to pounce.
Maullory: maybe tomorrow, after evening watch. whaddya say?
JoTho: i say we can do 2nite. whats ur pos?
Lee hesitates. Does he really want to tell this virtual stranger where he is? Sure, I can jerk off by myself, he reasons, but if we’re serious about hooking up, he’ll have to know where to find me. In for a penny…
He debates a moment longer, then quickly types in his position—B-3 deck, bunk 1023—and hits Send before he can change his mind. His heart hammers in his chest; his blood pounds in his ears, his throat, his dick.
He waits.
Time seems to slow to a crawl. The pencil icon flashes, then disappears, then flashes again. Lee doesn’t know what to expect, but he holds his breath, anxious.
When the response appears, he’s more than a little surprised.
JoTho: b right over
Maullory: now?? dude, it’s lights out.
The same response flashes again, coming through faster this time: b right over.
“Okay.” Lee takes a steadying breath and lets it out with a laugh. If Officer Joe isn’t afraid of getting caught, then Lee isn’t about to turn him away.
JoTho: that cool?
With trembling fingers, Lee types, sure c u soon.
* * * *
Turning off his tablet, Lee hurries to straighten up his quarters. He can’t believe this is happening. He feels as giddy as a kid on Christmas Eve. His stomach churns anxiously, his hands turn clammy, his dick throbs in time with his heart. He doesn’t even know this guy!
But who am I kidding? I want him. I need him. Let’s do this.
Thankfully his bed was made first thing this morning, but the uniform he wore while on duty is pooled unceremoniously on the floor, where he left it when he stripped it off. A damp towel hangs over the back of the chair in front of his desk, which he now notices is cluttered with flash drives, toiletries, and a hastily folded stack of clean underwear he hasn’t yet put away.
Too bad there wasn’t an inspection today, Lee thinks as he scoops everything into the top desk drawer. He has to throw his entire weight against it to get it shut. If his CO ever saw this mess, he’d easily get a thousand pushups, at least.
Moving quickly, Lee kicks his dirty uniform under the bed, then snags the towel on his way to the bathroom. In there, two other towels hang over the shower rod, both only partially dry. Lee grabs those, too, and tosses all three into the stall, then pulls the tempered glass shower door to hide them.
When he turns around, he sees another mess sprawled across the bathroom counter. Disposable razors, his toothbrush, a box of dental floss, little bottles of shampoo and hair gel and cologne. A used bar of soap melting in the sink, decorated with globs of toothpaste. Grabbing a bottle of Axe body spray, Lee spritzes it onto his chest and shivers. It’s cool and tingly, and leaves a manly scent in its wake.
Then he looks over the counter, debating. How bad will it look if he locks the door to keep Joe out? But what if things end up going well between them? What if Joe wants to stay the night? He’ll need to use the toilet at some point, and then he’ll see the poor state the bathroom is in. Lee can’t make him go back to his own room just to take a piss.
So he sweeps everything into an empty drawer, sticky soap and all. Then he turns on the spigot as he runs his hand over the dried toothpaste, trying to wipe it away. “What the hell am I doing this for?” he mutters. “This isn’t exactly a date.”
But he scrubs the sink out anyway, then washes his hands with the soap before tucking it into the as-yet unused soap dish. Sure, there’s a pump to one side of the sink, ready to dispense some foaming liquid mess, but Lee likes the feel of a bar, in his hands or rubbed against his body. Some things can’t be replaced so easily.
He gives the bathroom one last look over and thinks it’ll do. Hell, it isn’t like his CO is going to show up for a surprise inspection tonight or anything. And this Joe guy knows what it’s like; he’s another spacer, same as Lee. They aren’t moving in together, jeez. Why go to all this trouble just to get laid?
Before he can think of an answer, there’s a knock on his hatch.
“Okay,” Lee says, drawing in a breath as he checks himself in the mirror. The front of his sweats tents with eagerness. “Cool, cool. Act cool.”
Whoever’s outside knocks again, a little louder this time.
As Lee breathes out, he feels his whole body relax. He’s got this. So it’s been awhile since he’s hooked up with someone. So what? It isn’t like he forgot how to have sex or anything. And he gets the impression Joe isn’t one for much talk, so he shouldn’t have to impress the guy too much. Hell, once he gets a look up close at what Lee’s packing, he won’t want to waste time chatting.
Lee’s balls throb with anticipation.
There’s a third knock, impatient this time. Lee calls out, “Coming!”
And soon, I hope. He hurries to answer.
* * * *
There’s a breathless heartbeat between Lee hitting the panel and the hatch circling open when he has time to think this might be a mistake. Then he’s face to face with his visitor and his knees weaken.
Commander Thomas fills the hatchway.
Lee snaps to attention. He almost brains himself with the side of his hand, but his knees lock and his back straightens, and the moment he thought he would fall down in surprise passes. “Sir!” he shouts. “Yes, sir!”
“At ease, Lieutenant.” A faint smile plays around the edges of Thomas’s mouth. He’s dressed casually, in a desert brown T-shirt and blue camo pants, but Lee knows his visit must be anything but casual. There goes his evening.
Hopefully Thomas doesn’t notice the damn erection straining the front of Lee’s sweats. For some reason, he’s harder now than he was before. The thrill of discovery, perhaps? I hope Joe’s smart enough to keep on walking, Lee thinks as he switches to parade rest. The last thing he wants is to have to explain to Thomas why someone’s coming by his quarters after lights out.
Trying not to lean out past Thomas to check the corridor, Lee asks, “Can I help you with something, sir?”
Thomas must see him looking. “Expecting someone?” he asks with a smirk.
“Sir! No, sir!” Lee shakes his head for emphasis. “It’s after hours, sir. The light’s red. Sir.” As if Thomas can’t see the crimson glow filling the corridor and Lee’s room, which makes Lee think of the whole ship as one big red-light district.
I wish. As long as his CO’s here, Lee doesn’t think he’ll be getting lucky tonight.
They face off for a long moment. Then Thomas nods, indicating the room behind Lee. “May I come in?”
“Um, sir…” Lee looks around wildly, as if hoping someone will come by and save him from whatever it is Thomas wants to bitch at him about this time. But they’re alone—no one in the corridor, no sign of Lee’s date. What if he comes while Thomas is still here? Lord, I’ll never hear the end of it. Almost pleading, Lee says, “It’s lights out, sir.”
“This won’t take long.” Thomas elbows his way into Lee’s quarters, which seem to shrink around his bulk.
Lee has to fight the sudden urge to start cleaning up again. Thankfully the place doesn’t look too bad, but if he’d known Thomas was coming by, he would’ve done more than a cursory attempt at making things neat.
He also wouldn’t have invited anyone over.
With a final glance at the empty corridor, Lee closes the hatch. “Is there something I can help you with? Sir?”
Thomas takes a look around, as if trying to find something to fault. It shouldn’t be hard to do—Lee’s surprised he hasn’t said anything yet about the rumpled sheets or the uniform sleeve poking out from under the bed. It’s bad enough the guy hounds his ass when he’s on duty; why does Thomas need to come by on his downtime and harass him then, too?
Thomas’s gaze settles on Lee’s tablet, dropped carelessly onto the bed. Too late, Lee realizes he still has Owned open—the game’s chat room fills the entire screen. Don’t look, he prays. Don’t look, don’t look.
Maybe he won’t know what he’s seeing. Lee can’t read him; his jaw is clenched, his mouth a thin scrawl across his stony face. Lee takes a step towards the bed, thinking maybe he can tuck the tablet under the cover or something without being too obvious about it…
Suddenly Thomas whirls to face him, and Lee jumps back. “That wouldn’t be a game you’re playing, would it?”
“What? No. This?” With a forced laugh, Lee lunges to the bed and scoops up the tablet. Holding the screen against his chest, he explains, “It’s just…um…” He hems and haws, looking for an answer.
Thomas arches an eyebrow. “Just what, Lieutenant?”
Lee decides to answer truthfully. Or, rather, to give some version of the truth, at any rate. “Grindr, sir. It’s Grindr.”
Now both of Thomas’s eyebrows go up. “The gay dating app?”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?” Lee jokes.
Thomas studies him a moment longer. Lee can’t meet his gaze, looking everywhere but at his CO. The hard-on raging in his sweats pulses almost painfully. When he finally gets off, he knows he’ll come in an explosive rush, but he’s beginning to think he’ll have to take care of it on his own. If Joe hasn’t shown up by now, he probably isn’t coming. Maybe he got lost. Or, more likely, he saw Thomas at Lee’s door and bailed.
Wish I could do the same.
He wipes a hand across his face to hide a nervous smile. What would Thomas say if Lee just walked out of his own quarters?
“Something funny, Lieutenant?”
The warning in Thomas’s voice comes through loud and clear. “No, sir,” Lee says softly.
Time creeps by as Thomas stares him down. Lee doesn’t dare look up and meet those hard eyes. Just go, he prays. Please, just get out of here already.
As if he can hear Lee’s thoughts, Thomas turns towards the door. Over his shoulder, he says, “I figured you were bluffing.”
“About what?” Before Thomas can reply, Lee hastens to add, “Sir.”
“About hooking up.”
Lee’s blood freezes in his veins. Oh shit. How does Thomas know about that? “I-I-I’m not…”
“What I really want to know is, why bother giving out your position if you aren’t really interested in putting out?” At the hatch, Thomas stops and looks back at Lee, disappointment shining in his eyes. “Unless I’m wrong and you aren’t Maullory.”
Lee’s mind whirls out in all directions as he tries to grasp what his CO is saying. “Wait, are you…”
Jonan Thomas, JoTho.
Joe.
Fuck.
A faint smile toys at the corners of Thomas’s mouth. “Top or bottom?”
“Top,” Lee says softly. His voice sounds like it’s coming from a million miles away. “Like I said, I’m an ass man myself. I didn’t know you—”
“What?” Thomas snaps, his voice hard. “Like guys?”
Lee shakes his head, still dazed. “Like video games.”
With a shrug, Thomas admits, “I figured it’s a fighting game. I’m in the military. How hard can it be? All I wanted was to get your attention.”
Lee blinks in surprise. “Me? Why?”
Thomas’s mouth twists into a sardonic grin. “Really? Like you don’t know?”
“I don’t…” Lee starts, but he trails off, thinking. “Ever since that day in the gym, you’ve been a real—you’re always so mean to me. Like…evil.”
Thomas rolls his eyes. “I’m not that bad. I just can’t have anyone thinking I’m too easy on you.”
“So you chew me out and give me pushups or laps because why?” Lee asks. “Because you’re mad I hit on you before I knew you were the new CO? Or because you’re mad you didn’t take me up on the offer?”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Thomas counters.
The words make Lee’s skin tingle all over. “But why didn’t you say anything before now?”
Thomas sighs. “I don’t want to have to say anything. I told you, I want someone who can take control between the sheets. Telling you what I like or what to do ruins it for me.”
A bark of laughter escapes Lee before he can stop it. “You tell me what to do all the time. You’re my damn CO.”
“On duty, yeah,” Thomas admits. “But after hours, I want someone else to take control.”
Someone like me?
Lee shivers at the thought. In a tentative voice, he says, “So get over here already.”
Thomas scoffs. “No.”
“But you just said—”
“I just said telling you what to do ruins it for me.” Thomas shakes his head, annoyed, then turns away, once again heading for the hatch. “Never mind.”
Something swells within Lee, the familiar mix of emotions Thomas usually stirs in him, anger and insecurity and humiliation, and yes—he can admit it now—lust. How did he not notice it before? The way Thomas feels for him, hidden behind a stony exterior so Lee won’t break through. And his own attraction to the man is still there, a slow burn kindling in his groin, stirring his cock and igniting his blood. He wants Thomas as much as he did when he first saw the guy in the gym. He wants this, everything about it, more than he thought he would. It’s here, within his reach, and there’s no way he’s going to let it walk away.
Crossing the room, Lee steps in front of Thomas and places a hand over the hatch’s control panel so he can’t open it. This time when Lee speaks, his voice is commanding and deep. Confident. Demanding. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asks in a low purr.
Thomas blinks in surprise, then his smile returns. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“We’re done talking.” Before Lee can think it through—and possibly scare himself out of doing it—he leans in and covers Thomas’s mouth with his.
There’s a moment of resistance, Thomas’s lips firm beneath his, then Thomas relaxes and lets Lee take over.
* * * *
Lee can’t let himself think of the man before him as his CO, or even Thomas. JoTho sounds silly, but Joe works. Not that Lee says it out loud; he really is done talking. He barks out a short, clipped word, an order really, using a drill sergeant voice he didn’t even know he had in him.
“Kneel.”
Leaning back against the hatch, Lee pushes down on Joe’s shoulders until he obeys. One hand curls around the back of Joe’s neck, a faint shadow of hair tickling his palm like the bristles on a brush. Lee dips his other hand into the front of his sweats. Grabbing his hard cock, he pulls it free from the confines of cloth. It stands erect, red and veinous, the shroomy head an angry purple, already glistening with dampness.
Giving Joe’s neck a firm squeeze, Lee says, “Open up.”
Joe looks past the thick dick in his face to frown up at Lee. “I’m gonna want more than a—”
“Did I say you could speak?” Lee thrusts his hips forward, and the tip of his cock smears across Joe’s cheek.
Joe parts his lips, a little too slowly for Lee. He slaps Joe’s face playfully with his dick and pleasure sizzles through him, tightening his balls. He slaps Joe again, a little harder this time, leaving a smudge of precum across Joe’s hairless upper lip.
“Open,” Lee says again.
This time Joe obeys. His mouth opens, his pink tongue darting out to lick the tip of Lee’s cock before swirling down the hard length. Lee feeds his length into Joe, as turned on by the sight of his CO kneeling before him as he is the feel of Joe’s damp warmth around his dick. Then Joe’s fingers wrap around his, and Lee bites his lower lip to keep from moaning out loud. Yes.
For a moment Joe clasps Lee’s hand as he opens wider, taking Lee in. Lee feels the softness of Joe’s lips against his fingertips, then Joe eases him aside and Lee falls back against the hatch, hand now flat against the cool metal. With half-hooded eyes, he watches his cock disappear bit by bit between Joe’s lips. His fingers brush against the hatch, seeking purchase, before curling into a fist. Still Joe takes him in, all of him, damn.
Then he kisses the base of Lee’s cock. The entire length of Lee’s dick is inside that pulsing, wet warmth. Joe looks up at Lee, mouth full of him, then slowly, slowly begins to let Lee slide out.
God.
Lee thrusts at him even as Joe pulls back. The hand on his nape keeps him from getting too far away. “Suck it,” Lee commands.
Joe complies. When he reaches the tender tip, his tongue flicks around Lee’s sensitive slit, cheeks suckling, lips massaging, working at Lee. He opens wider again and takes Lee in. Almost to the root a second time, leisurely, kneading his way down, chasing his fingers with his swirling tongue. Lee savors each inch as Joe gobbles him up. He’s close to coming—it’d be so easy, just giving into the moment, finding release. He imagines pulling out as he comes, and can easily picture his jizz hitting Joe full in the face, white drops beading on dark lashes, running down shaven cheeks.
That almost does it. He tightens his grip on Joe’s neck and pushes into his CO, eager, hungry, wanting more. Joe takes him in willingly, then pulls back as far as he can and lets Lee’s slick dick slip free. Before Lee can object, Joe’s lips latch onto the breadth of his cock, just under the flared head. With quick motions, Joe nibbles down one side of Lee’s dick, licks around under the swollen member, then trails his tongue back up to the tip. His tongue spins around the cockhead, sending delight shooting through Lee like sparks of electricity. God, yes. Yes.
But when Joe starts to go down again, Lee stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Joe sticks out his tongue, not quite ready to give Lee up. “Wait—”
“You said you wanted something more,” Lee reminds him.
“But—”
“Exactly.” Lee taps Joe on the side of the head, then runs his hand over the scrub of hair across Joe’s scalp. “Up.”
A wicked grin plays around Joe’s mouth. “Oh don’t worry, I am.” He cups the front of his pants for emphasis.
“I mean get up. Stand.” Lee cradles the back of his head while he does as he’s told, but before he can move away, Lee pulls him close to claim an eager kiss. He tastes himself on Joe’s tongue, and the tangy saltiness of his own juice only turns him on more. Damn, he’s never wanted anyone so badly his whole life.
The kiss turns demanding; Lee pushes against Joe, wanting him, wanting more of him. Joe staggers back, arms coming up around Lee’s waist, holding him close as they stumble away from the door. Then the backs of Joe’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he tumbles onto the bed, drawing Lee down with him. Suddenly Lee’s cock is trapped between them, his own weight heavy against Joe’s, making his dick palpitate with need. “God,” Lee manages to gasp, and then Joe kisses him quiet.
Tongues clash, lips gnash, hands thrust beneath clothing. Lee spreads his legs, straddling Joe, and sits up on his knees a bit to alleviate the pressure on his dick. His back arches; his cockhead weeps onto Joe’s crotch. Lee runs a hand down Joe’s chest, feeling taut muscles hidden under his undershirt.
“God, I want you,” he breathes.
“Then stop talking,” Joe sighs, “and do something about it already.”
With a playful smack against his arm, Lee chides, “Why does it not surprise me you’re so demanding in bed? I thought you wanted a guy who can take charge and tell you what to do?”
Joe wraps both hands around Lee’s cock and gives it a gentle tug. “I do, but—”
“Then shut up.” Bending down, Lee closes his mouth over Joe’s to silence him.
It works.
He runs his hands down Joe’s chest, tracing hidden muscles. When he reaches the waistband of Joe’s camo pants, he sits back enough to slip his fingers up under the T-shirt. Joe sits up with him, unwilling to break their kiss. But Lee’s touch must be ticklish over his belly, because he falls on the bed with a snicker, arms crossing in front of his chest reflexively. “Careful there, Mallory.”
“You ticklish?” Lee smirks as he strums his fingers over Joe’s ribs. “How cute.”
With a squeal of suppressed laughter, his CO bucks beneath him. “Don’t.”
“Don’t tell me don’t.” Lee runs his hands up Joe’s sides, rucking up the undershirt as he goes.
Joe squirms deliciously, struggling not to laugh. “No, really. I’m—”
“Ticklish,” Lee answers. “Yeah, I noticed.” Pushing Joe’s shirt up higher, he leans down and blows softly over Joe’s navel.
Laughter erupts from him. He twists beneath Lee, trying unsuccessfully to get away. “Stop!” he gasps. “Don’t, please. Don’t…”
Sticking out his tongue, Lee licks across the puckered hole, and Joe practically howls in response. Breathless, he sighs, “Don’t! Stop—”
“For someone who says he wants a man who’ll take control,” Lee says, directing his words to Joe’s quivering abs, “you sure do like telling me what to do.”
“Just…please…” Joe laughs and tries to tug down his shirt to cover his stomach, but Lee pushes it up farther, exposing more skin. “Lee…gah!”
Lee nips at Joe’s navel, giving it a quick tug before moving on, moving up. He trails little butterfly kisses over the firm muscles in Joe’s stomach, pushing the shirt out of his way. Joe struggles weakly against him, more for show than out of any form of protest. His breath comes fast and sharp, and Lee can feel a firm thickness through the front of his pants. Pressing into him, rubbing against him. He finds one pert nipple, as dark and erect as a chocolate kiss, and sucks it into his mouth.
Joe’s protests disappear in a quick intake of breath.
With his lips covering his teeth, Lee nibbles at the tender bud, then flicks over it with his tongue. Joe groans with delight.
Pushing Joe’s shirt up higher, Lee turns his attention to the other nipple, suckling and toying with it, using both tongue and lips. Joe starts to make a needy little keening sound in the back of his throat. It’s sexy, spurring Lee on. He moves to Joe’s collarbone—the shirt now covers Joe’s face, and when Lee looks up, he can see the shape of Joe’s nose and lips in the taut fabric with each breath. Lee plants a kiss in the hollow of Joe’s throat, then kisses Joe’s chin where it’s exposed through the T-shirt’s neckline. Then he presses his mouth to the outline of Joe’s through the fabric, pushing his tongue against the material, dampening it. He can feel Joe’s tongue straining for his, so he pulls the T-shirt up a little farther, just enough to get it over Joe’s lips. Joe gulps in a quick breath and then Lee’s on him again with hungry, eager kisses.
Joe’s arms are raised above him, trapped by the shirt. With one hand, Lee holds the shirt up, keeping Joe in place. The other hand strokes a ticklish path down Joe’s chest and belly, lower, to thumb open the button on his fly. Then the hardness in Joe’s pants throbs against Lee’s palm. His zipper eases down on its own.
Against Joe’s mouth, Lee murmurs, “I want you.” For emphasis, he gives Joe’s cock a healthy squeeze. It already feels damp through its thin sheath of underwear.
“Please,” Joe sighs, breathless.
This is a different kind of plea, all kidding aside. The laughter is gone, and as Lee’s hand slips into the front of Joe’s briefs, he lets out another guttural moan that seems to grab Lee by the balls, it’s so needy and raw.
Lee pulls Joe’s shirt up a bit more; now Joe’s nose is through the neckband, his mouth open in pleasure, his arms pinned above his head. His pants gape open as Lee’s hand delves deeper into his fly. His cock feels like a steel rod in Lee’s grip.
“Please,” Joe says again, almost sobbing the word.
Lee smiles against Joe’s lips. “Please what?”
He can feel Joe’s mouth pull down into a frown, which he kisses away. “Say it,” he murmurs.
“Say what? I…I don’t—”
Lee whispers, “Fuck me. I want to hear you say it.” He bites Joe’s bottom lip. “Say it.”
A whimper escapes Joe. “Fuck me.”
Lust ripples through Lee. Funny how the same voice that snaps out orders and makes him cringe when he’s on duty can also turn him on so badly, his balls ache. But as much as he wants to do just what Joe’s asking, he’s enjoying this moment, having Joe at his mercy, begging…
“Say it again,” he commands.
Joe thrusts his hips up, arching his back, trying to press as much of his crotch into Lee’s hand as he can. “Fuck me,” he says through gritted teeth. “God, don’t make me beg.”
With an amused smirk, Lee admits, “That sounds so tempting. After all the shit you’ve put me through…”
“God,” Joe sobs. “Just…please. Okay? Please. I need you.”
Lee licks his tongue over Joe’s lips, wetting them. “Ooh, I like the way that sounds.”
“Plee-ee-ee-eeze.” Joe draws out the word until it sounds as tortured as his voice.
With a kiss to quiet him, Lee massages Joe’s cock through the pocket at the front of his briefs. “Hush,” Lee sighs.
Joe stifles another sob. “Lee—”
Lee presses his mouth to Joe’s. “I said hush.” He kisses Joe’s chin, then tugs on Joe’s shirt a little to make Joe tilt back his head. Lee dives in to plant another kiss on the tender flesh under his chin. A third kiss on Joe’s Adam’s apple, a forth in the hollow of his throat, where Lee can feel his pulse flutter beneath the skin. Then it’s a trail of little kisses back down Joe’s chest, over his ticklish belly, to his navel, where Lee follows the faint hairs leading down into Joe’s camos.
Now he releases Joe’s shirt to smooth his hand down Joe’s side. When his fingers glance over Joe’s armpit, his CO gasps and twists beneath him, but Lee moves on before he can elicit any laughter. His dick throbs, his balls ache, his whole body feels flush. He’s ready to stop playing now and get on with it. With them.
So he uses both hands to open Joe’s fly wider, then pulls down the waistband of Joe’s briefs. The same hard cock he saw on his tablet earlier swings up to meet him, the bulbous head already slathered with precum. Lee laps it off, then draws the stiff member into his mouth.
“God!” Joe writhes beneath Lee, hips bucking, pushing himself farther into Lee. He tears off his shirt, tosses it aside, and runs his hands over Lee’s short-cropped hair, as if looking for purchase. With nothing to grab onto, Joe’s fingers hook around Lee’s ears, holding him still and fucking into his mouth.
Lee opens wide, taking him in. Joe tastes clean, and the musk of him mingles with his spicy cologne to fill Lee’s senses. He works the base of Joe’s cock with one hand and fondles Joe’s balls with the other, his hands slick with saliva.
“God!” Joe cries out.
Lee pulls back. It is after hours, after all. Even with his rank, Joe can still get them both in trouble. “Damn, you’re loud.”
“Damn, you’re slow,” Joe growls.
With a smirk, Lee asks, “What’d I say? Hush.”
But he can’t deny he, too, is ready for more.
He slides off the bed, pulling Joe’s pants down as he stands. Joe raises his knees, as if that helps. It doesn’t, not really, but Lee grabs the pants before Joe can kick them all the way off. They stop halfway, stopped by Joe’s bent knees. Lee pushes against the pants, forcing Joe’s knees to fold back against his chest. From under the gathered fabric, Lee can see Joe’s round ass cheeks and the welcoming darkness between them.
“What a view,” he purrs, running a hand down Joe’s inner thigh.
Joe shivers at the touch. “Are you just gonna stand there and look?” he snaps. “Fuck me already, jeez.”
“For that…” Lee pushes against Joe’s legs, leaning on them as he reaches down and slaps Joe’s ass.
The skin reddens at once, and Joe lets out a surprised laugh. “Ow!”
Lee slaps him again, then tugs his pants off entirely.
“About time,” Joe grumbles. But when Lee turns away, he cries, “Hey!”
“One more word,” Lee warns over his shoulder as he heads into the bathroom, “and I’m really going to spank you.”
Joe laughs. “Promise?” When Lee disappears into the other room, Joe calls out, “What are you doing? I thought we were in the middle of something here. This is no time to use the head.”
In the bathroom, Lee grabs a small bottle of lube and a handful of condoms from the drawer under the sink. “You’re really asking for it,” he warns.
“Uh, yeah,” Joe shouts back. “That’s the whole reason I’m here. So are we doing this or what?”
When Lee returns, Joe’s legs are lowered and now he’s sitting, one hand fisted around his bulging cock as he leans back. The sight of Joe’s naked body in his bed sends a thrill through Lee. The camo pants and briefs pool on the floor by his shoes, which he’s kicked aside. Naked, he’s as cut and toned as Lee knew he’d be.
“Stop playing with yourself,” Lee commands, tossing the condoms at him. “That’s my job.”
“Well, you walked away.” Joe selects one packet and tears into it with his teeth. Lube squirts out, beading on his upper lip like sweat. “Get over here so I can put this on you already.”
Lee sniggers as he approaches the bed. “You sure do know how to sweet talk a guy. I can’t believe you have to resort to random chat room hookups to get laid.”
“Stop talking, will you?” Joe grabs Lee’s cock and reels him in. With practiced ease, he rolls the condom onto Lee’s hard dick, then picks at the sweats still covering most of Lee’s legs. “Lose these, will you?”
“I thought I was the one who’s supposed to give the orders in bed?” But Lee doesn’t want the sweats on, either, so he steps out of them. “Roll over.”
To his surprise, Joe doesn’t move. “No.”
Lee frowns at him. “How do you think this is gonna work, then?”
Joe lays back, heels on the edge of the bed so his knees are up, legs spread invitingly. “How about this?”
With an amused nod, Lee admits, “I can work with this.”
He squeezes a healthy dollop of lube into his palm, then rubs his hands together, feeling the slippery silicone-based liquid warm beneath his touch. Then he places his hands on Joe’s knees and pushes them apart, wider, and positions himself between them. He strums a wet finger down Joe’s hard cock, rubs Joe’s balls, then dives lower, finding the rim of Joe’s hole. He traces around it, once, twice, then pushes his way inside.
Joe gasps.
Lee shuffles a step or two closer, guiding his dick into Joe’s tight center. In a surprising move, Joe raises both legs to wrap them around Lee’s waist. Behind Lee’s back, Joe locks his ankles together to keep him in place. With hooded eyes, he purrs, “C’mon, Mallory. Show me what you’ve got.”
It doesn’t take any more than that. Leaning forward, Lee eases into Joe’s hot, tight ass. The pressure feels wonderful around Lee’s cock. With a hand on the bed on either side of Joe to give him better leverage, Lee moans with delight as Joe takes him in, all of him, all the way in, until his balls bump Joe’s buttocks.
Within the span of Joe’s legs, Lee finds a steady rhythm, in out, harder, quicker, each thrust punctuated by heavy breathing on his part and Joe’s steady yes, yes, yes. He grips Lee’s shoulders, pulling Lee down, raking his nails across Lee’s back. He pants in Lee’s ear, yes yes yes, in time with Lee’s pistoning hips. Lee thrusts faster, harder, driving into Joe as his blood ignites and his body flushes with lust. Yes yes yes, a steady chant, encouraging him. Yes yes, pulling both men to ecstasy. Together. Yes.
Lee feels his orgasm building and clenches the muscles in his dick to keep from shooting off too soon. He slows down, long strokes, leisurely, even as Joe tries to goad him on. To quiet the constant yes yes yes, he covers Joe’s mouth with his own and the moment draws out as they kiss, lips mashed together, tongues delving, time slowing to match the languid push and pull of Lee’s hips.
When Lee comes up for air, Joe tightens his legs and holds on as tight as he can. “Don’t you quit on me yet,” he mutters, then raises his voice to holler out, “Fuck me, Lieutenant! Fuck me harder! Harder!”
It’s his drill sergeant voice, the one that makes everyone jump to attention, and Lee’s cock is no exception. He picks up the pace again, building the momentum between them, thrusting in balls deep as Joe barks encouragement. Thinking of Joe as his CO—pinned to the bed, hungry for him, wanting him—spurs him on more than Lee cares to admit. He thrusts harder, deeper, faster, until Joe’s words deteriorate into moans and grunts of pleasure. When Joe pulls Lee down and bites his shoulder, hard, Lee can’t hold back a second orgasm. He reaches between them, finds Joe’s rock hard cock, and jerks Joe off so they’ll come together. His legs tremble, his nuts tense up, his whole body shudders with release. He pushes into Joe as far as he can and gives into the emotion swirling through him as he shoots his load. Hot wetness squirts between them as Joe comes, too, with a primal roar.
Lee kisses him tenderly. In a soft voice, he murmurs, “Hush.”
* * * *
Later, after the lights are out and the red bar lining the wall has dimmed to little more than a faint glow, the two men spoon together on Lee’s narrow bunk. Joe fits nicely within the span of Lee’s arms; Lee’s spent cock lies cradled in the crevice between Joe’s firm buttocks. The only sounds are their breaths, slowing as they drift towards sleep together.
But something bothers Lee. Something nagging him, something he couldn’t quite manage to put into words earlier, as he showered with Joe and then climbed into bed. Now that they’ve quieted down, one thought pesters Lee. He presses a kiss to the back of Joe’s shoulder, then murmurs, “Hey.”
After a long moment Joe stirs, turning his head towards Lee. “Hmm?”
Lee props himself up a little. He brushes a hand over Joe’s ear, nails scraping softly through Joe’s stubbled hair. “You know, I just think it’s funny—”
“Uh-oh.”
With a laugh, Lee asks, “What?”
Joe rolls onto his back and frowns up at Lee. “Nothing good ever follows that phrase. I just think it’s funny. Can’t we just enjoy this for a little while?”
“It just strikes me as funny,” Lee insists. “Not good or bad, really. Just funny how you happened to hook up with me tonight, that’s all. Weren’t you even a little surprised when you found out I was the one you were chatting with?”
In the growing darkness, Joe studies Lee for a moment, then sighs. “Actually, no. I knew it was you.”
Lee pulls back. “What?” he asks again. “How? Wait, it was my position, wasn’t it? Of course you know where I bunk.”
“No, not that.” Joe chews on the inside of his lower lip, as if debating on saying more. His gaze flickers over Lee’s face, maybe trying to gauge how Lee will react to whatever it is he’s afraid to say.
“Then what?” Lee prompts. “Tell me.”
In a soft voice so low, Lee almost can’t hear it, Joe whispers, “I knew it was you. I’ve been…I don’t know, trying to get your attention? I knew you liked that silly game, and I figured how hard could it really be, right? I mean, I’m a soldier, it’s a fighting simulator, hello.”
Lee isn’t quite following. “What’d you want to get my attention for?”
With a playful jab of his elbow, Joe smirks. “As if you don’t know.”
Honestly, Lee doesn’t. He should be able to connect the dots, but he isn’t quite getting it yet. “You already know me,” he says. “I mean, hell, you break my balls daily.”
“Yeah, but I wanted this.” Joe wiggles his hips back against Lee, teasing awake Lee’s slumbering dick.
Lee touches Joe’s nose with one finger. “If you’ll remember, I made the offer when we first met.”
“I know.” Joe nips at Lee’s finger, and Lee lets him catch it. Joe’s tongue is warm and wet and soft curling around his fingertip. When Joe releases him, Lee rests the hand on Joe’s collarbone and traces the curve of his jaw with the wet digit. “What can I say?” Joe asks. “I was wrong. I made a mistake, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to correct it ever since.”
“So you’re saying this isn’t a one time thing?” Lee wants to know.
“Not if you don’t want it to be.”
Lee’s tempted, to be sure. Still…”What happens when we’re on duty?”
Shrugging, Joe admits, “I’ll still chew your ass out on duty when I have to. I mean hell, I’m your CO and I outrank you. But when we’re alone, like now? I’m more than happy to let you take charge, as long as we end up in bed.”
Relieved, Lee laughs. “Shit, when we’re alone? We’re never getting out of bed.”
* * * *
The ban on gaming in the rec room only lasts about a week, if that. It’s never officially lifted, but when Lee drifts down one evening after his watch, no one stops him from logging into the game server. Just to check my stats, he says, as if that’s any excuse. Before he knows it, he’s challenged a chief petty officer who drifts over from the bar to watch. The next evening, he doesn’t even pretend to be checking his stats. “Who wants to fight?” he asks nobody in particular. Two ensigns take him up on the offer.
Before long Brenna’s elbowing him aside to grab the second controller. “Move over, kid,” she says, plopping down beside him. “Let a girl show you how it’s done.”
“Girl, my ass,” Lee snips. “You’re the same age as me.”
Arching her eyebrows, Brenna laughs. “Yeah, but I wear it better. You ready to go another round, or what?”
“You mean a do-over,” Lee clarifies. “Sure.”
Brenna smirks. “I mean are you ready to get your ass kicked again?”
“Don’t even get me started,” Lee growls. “Get ready to get mauled.”
“Big talk from someone who lost,” Brenna teases.
Lee’s had enough of her trash talk. “We’ll see about that.”
He wins the first round handily, and seems to have the advantage in the second. But soon he realizes Brenna’s toying with him, waiting for his overconfidence to make him sloppy, and before he knows it, the score is tied one to one.
Same as last time. There’s a poetic justice to it; now they’ll see who really is the better player. As if Lee doesn’t already know.
She comes out swinging, as he suspected she would. This round he keeps his distance, letting her cockiness undo her, the way she played him earlier. They’re more evenly matched than Lee cares to admit. He wants to win, plain and simple. If he loses again, she’ll never let him hear the end of it.
As Brenna’s avatar circles his, Lee quickly switches tactics. Anything to keep her off guard. Now he attacks, on the offense, eager to bring things to an end and prove himself. It’s late, almost time for lights out, and he wants to straighten up before his nightly visitor arrives. Maybe their ranks don’t matter after hours, but Lee can’t help but think Joe’s always on the lookout for some new reason to bust his balls.
Lee’s too engrossed in the game to notice anyone else in the rec room; even Brenna beside him has disappeared. Dimly he’s aware they’re attracting a crowd, men and women pressing around behind them to watch the action. But the only thing that exists for Lee is Maullory and Decker onscreen, squaring off for a final showdown. He feints left, and when she lunges after him, he rounds behind her and kicks her feet out from under her. As she scrambles to her feel, Lee’s fingers blur on the controller’s buttons as he enters the code for his final blow.
Then someone leans against him. Warm breath tickles the back of his neck, distracting him. He hunches forward, concentrating on the game. He’s so close to winning…
“What do I have to do to get you up, Lieutenant?” Commander Thomas purrs into his ear.
Laughter erupts around them, and Lee’s face flushes with embarrassed heat. “Sir—”
“No, no,” Thomas says, his voice too casual. “By all means, finish your game. Who stands at attention for their CO when they’re off duty anyway?”
“Sir…” Lee looks over his shoulder at Thomas, and the smirk on his CO’s face sends a jolt of electric lust spiking through him. His cock stiffens, suddenly heavy, suddenly hungry. What’s he doing again? Why aren’t they undressed yet?
Before he can think of a response, a cheer goes up around them. Lee turns back to the screen, confused. “Wha—”
“Hooyah!” Brenna yells in his face. “Check and mate.”
Lee frowns. “Wait—”
“Nope, I win again.” For emphasis, Brenna tosses her controller onto his lap. “Looks like I’m the best after all.”
“I was distracted!” Lee cries, pointing at Thomas. “He distracted me! That last round doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Brenna says, dismissive. “It’s always something with you. I won, fair and square. Twice. So face it. I’m a better fighter.”
“So what’s that make him?” Thomas asks. “The better lover?”
The smirk on his face only makes Lee want him more.
THE END