“Come on, Flag,” Floyd’s voice whispered against his ear, tongue tracing his outer shell and lobe.
Turned on beyond reason, Rick shivered and pressed forward against the body pinning him to the wall. The friction was delicious and he wanted more, and more, but Floyd (and Floyd could call him Flag as much as he wanted, even if he didn’t have to, but to Rick, Floyd had stopped being Lawton a few missions ago [moreover after the last night calls in Rick's room]), kept his body still.
“Ah, ah, not so fast, soldier,” Floyd went on and, damn him, he kept up his slow torture on Rick’s neck and ear, Rick’s weakest spots, which Floyd knew perfectly well. Rick groaned.
“Come on,” Rick entreated, “do something or let me go.”
Floyd hummed against his skin but kept up his rhythm.
“Not until you tell me.” Floyd said, breathing against Rick’s wet skin.
And suddenly there wasn’t just arousal highlighting his body, because Floyd’s words reminded Rick why he was pissed off and hurt. He went rigid. Floyd, catching upon it, stopped his ministrations, but tightened his grip on Rick’s body. Nothing that Rick couldn’t throw off, but Rick didn’t want to hurt the man. Or bring attention to them. The rest of the squad was still scattered around the house, unwinding, and while it was unlikely that someone would wander near the entrance door, it could still happen. God, what were they doing here?
“It’s Harley, isn’t it?” Floyd’s suddenly serious voice was like a bucket of cold water and Rick’s eyes snapped to the other man. Floyd was watching him intently. Rick fought the urge to fidget, to look away. God, he was a soldier, but there were still things that embarrassed him beyond measure, and feelings (of jealousy, how pathetic was that?) were first on that particular list.
A hand gripped his chin and Rick was forced to look back into those, too perceptive eyes.
“You got nothing to worry about, Rick.” Floyd said and, before Rick could process that Floyd had finally used his name for the first time or refuse Floyd’s insinuation, Floyd kissed him and pressed his erection against Rick’s and, well, every coherent thought, Rick’s worries about Floyd’s and Harley’s relationship included, vanished like snow under the sun.