Work Text:
To Hunter’s shame, he didn’t notice Crosshair’s strange behavior until an hour after their mission on Layko Prime had come to an end. Ordinarily, he kept a close watch on his squad mates, and Crosshair in particular, but he was drained from the long, grueling mission. When Crosshair immediately disappeared into the bunkroom upon their return to the Marauder, Hunter had assumed he was just as exhausted.
Except when Crosshair eventually emerged, instead of perching next to Hunter at the navicomputer, he went to sit in the gunner’s nest at the back of the ship, hidden in darkness.
But with his enhanced vision, Hunter didn’t need any more than starlight to see that Crosshair looked off. He was leaning against the wall with his knees up against his chest and his temple resting against his kneecaps. His face was flushed, and there was a sheen of sweat on the back of his neck. The toothpick in his mouth shifted from side to side, as if restless. And if Hunter didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Crosshair was trembling.
While Tech and Echo were bickering about the most efficient hyperspace lane to take to their next assignment, Hunter stood from his seat and made his way over to the gunner’s nest.
As he approached, Crosshair raised his head, eyes wide in alarm. “Stay away from me,” he hissed.
Hunter shoved his instinctual hurt down. Crosshair was always curt, and he could be mean, but whenever he lashed out at Hunter, there was a reason behind it—something bothering him on a deeper level that he was struggling to put words to.
“What’s going on?” Hunter asked. “Did you get injured down there?”
“No,” Crosshair said. He didn’t seem to plan on elaborating.
With a sigh, Hunter began climbing up the ladder to the nest. To his surprise, Crosshair immediately rocketed to his feet, nearly tripping over the gunner’s seat in his haste to put distance between them.
Panic was written all over his features, which only made Hunter’s concern intensify. Crosshair never panicked, not even when they were all counting on him to make a two-klick shot. It was disturbing to see him this shaken.
Whatever he was hiding was clearly making him anxious, and Hunter planned on finding out what it was. He paused at the upper rungs of the ladder and peered, bemused, at Crosshair, who seemed to be attempting to use the gunner’s seat as a shield.
Hunter raised his eyebrows. “Well, something’s obviously wrong.”
“Kriff off,” Crosshair said emphatically. His expression was pinched, as if he were trying to hold something in.
“Don’t give me that,” Hunter said, climbing up the rest of the way. “What are you hiding? Why won’t you tell me?”
As he neared, Crosshair quickly leaned away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I am trying to protect you!” he snapped.
Hunter frowned. “Hey, it’s okay. I can handle it.” He laid what he hoped would be a comforting hand on Crosshair’s shoulder.
But instead of returning the gesture with his opposite arm, the way he usually did, Crosshair yelped, “Don’t touch me!” and scrambled back over the gunner’s seat.
Hunter stared at him. What the hells was going on?
“All good back there?” Echo called from the cockpit.
“Not sure,” Hunter said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Somebody won’t tell me.”
With a huff, Crosshair hurried down the ladder and stormed across the ship. “Tech, give me a sedative,” he demanded when he reached the cockpit.
Tech gave him a chiding look. “If you are feeling unwell, then I need to examine you first.”
“Fine,” Crosshair bit out. “Then do it. Now.”
“One moment,” Tech said. “We are about to jump to hyperspace.” At Echo’s nod, he pulled the lever, and Hunter leaned his weight against the wall as the hyperdrive kicked in and the ship lurched. He kept his eyes on Crosshair, who swayed and belatedly grabbed the back of one of the seats.
As the cockpit was illuminated by the streaks of stars, Tech stood from the pilot seat and motioned to Echo. Shooting Crosshair a curious look, Echo shifted over. Hunter joined them in the cockpit.
Muttering to himself, Tech held a glowrod to Crosshair’s eyes and scanned the rest of his body with his datapad. “Dilated pupils, elevated heart rate, accelerated breathing, vasodilation…”
He placed two fingers on the hollow of Crosshair’s neck to check his pulse, and Crosshair made a soft, agonized noise that resembled a whimper.
Hunter jolted, his stomach dropping. That wasn’t pain. That sounded like…arousal.
He stared at the two of them in horror. Crosshair was interested in Tech? Or were they kriffing? How long had that been going on? Why hadn’t Hunter known? He was all too aware that he didn’t have a chance with Crosshair, but for his competition to be another one of his brothers…
Tech seemed unfazed, though. He typed something into his datapad, then raised his eyebrows and typed some more. “It appears to be some kind of toxin,” he announced, adjusting his goggles and peering down at the scrolling readout on his screen. “You are experiencing a heightened, artificial sense of sexual arousal.”
“I had no idea,” Crosshair muttered, rolling his eyes. “Now can you hurry up and give me a sedative?”
Tech shook his head. “That would be unwise. When you were sniping from the top of the hill, did you by any chance climb a tree with blue leaves?”
“Maybe,” Crosshair said.
“You might have come in contact with the aphrodisiac that the Layko queen bees use on their subjects. As the beefolk are notoriously uninterested in procreation, the substance is known to be extremely potent, especially for humanoids and near-Humans, and will remain in the bloodstream until the biological parameters are met. Occasionally, it appears on the black market, where it is sold as a recreational drug. There are even some who—”
“Focus,” Hunter chided, even as petty relief coursed through him at the possibility that Crosshair had merely reacted instinctively to Tech’s touch.
“Right,” Tech replied, looking up from his datapad. “A sedative would be unwise, Crosshair. There is a possibility that once it wears off, the strength of the artificial arousal will have increased exponentially, based on how long you have put off release. At which point you may become a danger to yourself—and others.”
“Release?” Echo wondered. “Couldn’t he just—“ He raised his left arm and made an unmistakable gesture.
“Tried that already,” Crosshair said, sounding strained. “Made it worse.”
Hunter did not blush. He did not immediately picture Crosshair in his bunk with his blacks tugged down, thrusting into his fist and biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from making any noise. He certainly did not feel any blood rushing down his body at the mental image.
Tech was jotting down a note on his datapad. “That is logical,” he said, “given that the objective of the substance is to induce the feelings of arousal in creatures who are reluctant to mate. I suspect the toxin will only leave your system once you fulfill its objective with at least one other being.”
Crosshair was looking more irritated by the minute. “So you’re saying this isn’t going to go away until I sleep with someone,” he said flatly.
“Correct. In fact, for every moment that you delay, the intensity of the urge will likely increase.”
Crosshair swore, folding his arms and looking so frustrated and uncomfortable that Hunter couldn’t help but want to ease his pain.
His mouth moved faster than his brain:
“I could do it.”
Crosshair froze in his seat, then turned his head very slowly to look up at Hunter. “What.”
“Well, it’s gotta be one of us, right?” Hunter pointed out. “Unless you’d rather wait and take your chances with a reg. Or a civilian.”
Crosshair scrunched his face in distaste. Hunter could tell he was mentally working through the options he had available, and he pushed away his knee-jerk dismay at Crosshair being so reluctant to sleep with him, even as a medical necessity. Of course Crosshair wouldn’t want to do something so intimate with him. He had never shown any indication of interest in anyone, much less Hunter.
“If you just need release, that’s simple enough,” Hunter offered with a shrug, pretending his entire body wasn’t growing warm at the thought. What mattered was that he would ensure that Crosshair would be taken care of and treated well, and Crosshair wouldn’t have to be vulnerable with a stranger. His own long-bottled desire was irrelevant.
Crosshair sighed and asked Tech, “You really can’t just knock me out?”
“Not if you wish to get the toxin out of your system,” Tech replied.
Sighing again, Crosshair gripped his arms more tightly and looked down at his lap. “Fine,” he bit out.
Tech nodded. “Excellent. Go wake Wrecker. I will explain the situation to him, and we will stay out of the bunkroom until the issue is resolved. I will come in periodically to check Crosshair’s vitals.”
Hunter’s brows rose. How long was Tech expecting this to take?
Shaking his head, he led the way to the bunkroom, conscious of Crosshair trailing behind him but leaving a careful distance between them. Hunter roused Wrecker, who rubbed his right eye blearily and sat up.
“What’s going on, Sarge?” he said. “Why do the two of you look like that?”
“Crosshair is having a medical emergency,” Hunter said vaguely. He pointed his thumb toward the cockpit. “Tech will explain everything. For now, we need the room.”
Wrecker looked curious but didn’t push it. He rose from the bunk and laid a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. “Hope you feel better soon.”
Crosshair inhaled sharply at the touch. “Thanks,” he said acerbically, eyes flickering urgently toward the door. Wrecker got the message, hurrying out.
Silence reigned as the door closed behind Wrecker, and Hunter and Crosshair were left alone with the task at hand.
Glowering, Crosshair tugged at the collar of his blacks. He looked to be fighting off a fever, the flush spreading down his neck and his temples drenched in sweat. His hands were balled into tight, trembling fists at his sides, as if he were just barely holding them back. Truthfully, Hunter could relate: The thick scent of arousal emanating from Crosshair was strong enough to make him dizzy.
But Crosshair appeared uncharacteristically nervous as they stood across from each other, neither willing to make the first move.
The sight made guilt surge within Hunter. Crosshair had agreed, but had Hunter given him no other choice? Was he taking advantage of the situation? Was he forcing himself on to the object of his long-held affection?
“Crosshair,” Hunter said hesitantly, “if you’d rather have one of the others help you, just say the word.” He ignored the curl of misery that lanced through his gut at the thought and added, “Or if you need me to find someone else—”
“Shut up,” Crosshair said, his jaw tense. “This is…adequate.”
Hunter nodded, relieved. To ensure Crosshair wouldn’t hate him after he came to his senses, he just needed to maintain a careful, clinical distance. If he treated this as a medical procedure no different from resetting a dislocated shoulder, instead of one of his most outlandish fantasies coming true, surely Crosshair wouldn’t later fault him for his assistance.
“All right,” Hunter said, steeling himself. “How do you want me?”
Something electric seemed to go through Crosshair. “Just karking touch me,” he snapped, and despite his harsh tone—or maybe because of it—the room suddenly felt too hot.
Slowly, giving him time to choose otherwise, Hunter approached Crosshair and placed a hand on his left pauldron, summoning all his leadership acumen to feign calmness for his suffering squad mate and not show any sign that simply the idea of touching Crosshair in this context made him giddy.
“All right if we get you a bit more comfortable?” he asked, his fingers finding the latch to the pauldron. It was only because of his enhanced hearing that he caught the sound of Crosshair’s breath hitching. He nodded and began undoing his kit in tandem with Hunter, who could tell he was trying to stop his hands from shaking.
Hunter had grown up with Crosshair, always confined to close quarters, and had seen him in all sorts of states of undress—yet the sight of him in only his blacks now made his face heat. Maybe it was the sight of his erection tenting the fabric, or maybe it was the fact that Crosshair was allowing him to participate in the act of undressing.
“What part of touch me did you not unders—”
Hunter shut Crosshair up by trailing his hand down his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, rucking the fabric and watching him for any signs of discomfort. Although Crosshair seemed to be holding his breath, he didn’t stop Hunter.
Carefully, trying not to startle him, Hunter tugged the uppers of Crosshair’s blacks out of the lowers and slid his thumb across the sliver of skin and line of coarse, gray hair that was bared. He felt Crosshair shiver.
Encouraged, Hunter dipped his fingers past the waistband, his heart pounding. He grasped him, the shape familiar, and the gravity of knowing how Crosshair felt in his hand, so warm and so hard, made heat flood Hunter’s face. He instinctively rubbed his palm over the tip, which was already dribbling.
Crosshair hissed, rocking into Hunter’s fist. When Hunter glanced up, he saw that Crosshair was watching him avidly, the gold of his eyes almost entirely dwarfed by his pupils. Hunter drank in the sight, reveling in having Crosshair’s laser-focused attention fixed on him.
Hunter smeared the wetness onto his hand, then began to move it, from the head to the base and back up again. Crosshair whimpered, even louder than when Tech had briefly touched him earlier, and feeling a spark of possessiveness, Hunter leaned in to lick that exact spot at the hollow of his throat.
Crosshair inhaled sharply, tilting his head up for better access, and Hunter felt like a ravenous predator as he eagerly tasted the tendons of his neck and the salty tang of his skin.
Still, he needed more. He scraped his teeth against Croshair’s throat, lightly at first, and then with increased pressure when Crosshair made a soft, vulnerable noise. When he bit into the skin of his neck outright, Crosshair gasped, hands coming up to brace Hunter’s still kitted-out shoulders.
That and Crosshair squeezing his eyes shut were Hunter’s only warnings before Crosshair’s entire body shook, and he spilled, hot and forceful, over Hunter’s fingers.
Hunter stared unabashedly. Watching Crosshair’s mouth part and the bob of his throat quiver while feeling warm liquid spurt into his hand was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. He felt his neglected cock twitch in interest and mercilessly ignored it. This wasn’t about him. He was here to help Crosshair, not to satisfy his own secret desires.
Hunter extracted his hand from Crosshair’s lowers, doing his best not to smear anything on Crosshair himself. He fetched a cleaning rag nearby and wiped his hands off.
When he turned back around, Crosshair was swaying.
“Hey,” Hunter murmured. “It’s all right. You’ll be all right.” He wrapped an arm around Crosshair, holding him upright. “Want to lie down?”
Crosshair shook his head emphatically, so Hunter led him to the nearest wall instead, making sure he didn’t trip over anything in the cluttered room. Crosshair groaned as he sank against the wall in a weak slump far from his usual irreverent slouch.
“How are you feeling?” Hunter asked. “Is the fever going away?”
“Hardly,” Crosshair said, sounding winded. “Kriff, this is humiliating.”
Hunter pressed the back of his hand to Crosshair’s forehead, frowning. His skin still felt searing to the touch, and Hunter could still smell arousal wafting from him. Not to mention, when he glanced down, he saw that Crosshair’s lowers were still tented, as if nothing had changed.
“It’s okay,” Hunter soothed. “If it helps, you can pretend I’m not here. Just imagine me as an extended version of your hand.”
“Right,” Crosshair scoffed. “Easy as that.”
Hunter tugged at the waistband of Crosshair’s blacks. “Okay if I take these off?”
“Only if you strip, too,” Crosshair said, summoning enough energy to leer at him, and Hunter blushed even as he turned away to start removing his kit. The idea that he wasn’t just a friendly hand, that Crosshair wanted to see him, too, even if it was just the toxin speaking, made his heart thump.
When he turned back around, his breath caught. True to his word, Crosshair had removed his blacks, exposing his lithe, slender form; an expanse of brown skin that was etched with a smattering of eye-catching scars; and long legs that went on for kliks. A pretty flush decorated his neck and chest. Blistering desire flooded Hunter, making his chest tight.
Crosshair was looking at Hunter, too, and it made him feel unusually self-conscious as he returned to his side. He had many more scars than Crosshair did, probably even more than the average reg, because of the close-combat fighting style he preferred; he’d never considered that they might be repulsive to someone—especially when that being was the one whose opinion he valued the most.
But Crosshair didn’t seem displeased as his gaze roved over Hunter. Wetting his lip with an alluring pink slip of tongue, he reached out for Hunter, pulling him in. They both sighed in pleasure as their bare skin touched, body against body. Hunter’s heart nearly stopped when Crosshair circled his arms around his waist and leaned down to mouth up the line of his throat.
Hesitantly, Hunter looped his arms around Crosshair’s shoulders in return, suddenly all too aware of the sensation of Crosshair hard against his hip and himself hard against Crosshair’s bony one.
It was Crosshair who kissed him first.
Hunter’s heart stuttered helplessly in his chest. Although he didn’t have any prior experience, he had imagined doing this with Crosshair so many times that he instinctively returned the kiss, mouth parting against Crosshair’s enthusiastically. It was electric. Crosshair’s lips were softer than he would have expected, despite how he sucked and nibbled at Hunter’s. The rest of the galaxy fell away, Hunter’s heart thundering all the while.
Pressing his leg between Crosshair’s seemed to give Hunter extra leverage and a better angle, and judging by the way Crosshair’s fingers dug into his back, he agreed. He curled his leg around Hunter’s and used the leverage to hump his thigh, his desperation sending a frisson of arousal down Hunter’s spine.
When he licked experimentally into Crosshair’s mouth and ground his thigh against his erection, he was rewarded by hearing Crosshair moan, a lurid sound that Hunter didn’t think he’d ever unhear. Hunter felt himself twitch against Crosshair’s leg and took a shaky breath.
As they continued to kiss, growing more confident by the minute, they rutted against each other, sloppy and desperate. Hunter’s hands traveled down Crosshair’s body and landed on his ass, which he squeezed with fervor.
Crosshair cupped Hunter’s jaw and pressed wet kisses down his jaw, then down his throat, making Hunter gasp and arch his neck back. Crosshair took advantage of it, pushing Hunter’s hair back so he could suck and nibble at the skin there.
Something about Crosshair touching his hair made unexpected sparks dance along Hunter’s skin. To his embarrassment, Crosshair caught his stunned expression. With a knowing smirk, he fisted his hand into Hunter’s curls and tugged a little, and Hunter’s eyes fluttered shut. It was absurd. It was obscene. How could that simple touch make him feel so pleasantly dizzy?
In any case, this wasn’t supposed to be about his own pleasure—it was about Crosshair’s. Hunter had volunteered for a task, so he had a responsibility to see it through.
When he shook himself out of his stupor and peeled his eyes open, he found that Crosshair was once again staring at him intently, as if he were completely riveted—as if Hunter’s desire excited him, as if he enjoyed making Hunter unravel and wanted to keep doing it.
Hunter’s face heated. It was too much—too close to his heart’s true desires. He pulled back slightly, leaving just enough room that he was no longer grinding on Crosshair’s thigh. To distract them both, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Crosshair’s parted lips as he took him in hand and began to work him quickly and efficiently.
With a groan, Crosshair thrust into Hunter’s fist with abandon. Hunter let him, occupying himself with dragging his mouth across Crosshair’s shoulders and greedily inhaling his scent, which was soaked in pungent adrenaline and arousal yet layered with the sweetness of post-orgasmic bliss. Hunter just barely resisted the urge to take huge gulps of air to savor it.
As he scraped his teeth against the salty skin, Crosshair’s gasps began to escalate, and his rhythm started to falter.
“Are you close?” Hunter murmured, recognizing the signs from the last time. Crosshair nodded miserably, looking as if he desperately yearned for release yet dreaded it.
Sympathetic, Hunter took over, tightening his hand around Crosshair and pumping him at an accelerating pace. The sooner they made it through this, the sooner Crosshair would be healthy again. That was the most important thing, he reminded himself.
In no time, Crosshair was spending against Hunter’s stomach with a soft cry, his hips stuttering through the aftershocks.
Hunter soothed him as he came down from it, continuing to kiss him, gentler now. This time, when he glanced down, he was less surprised to find that Crosshair hadn’t softened one bit.
“What do you need?” he murmured.
“More,” Crosshair replied, his forehead landing on Hunter’s shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. ”Scrag, I can’t…”
Hunter scrubbed his hand through Crosshair’s short locks, secretly enjoying the opportunity to pet them a little. His heart twinged at the sight of Crosshair suffering, at the loss of his careful control, and his mouth moved faster than his brain.
“Want me to suck you off?” he blurted out.
Crosshair froze, and he cracked his eyes open to stare at Hunter, his eyebrows lifting to his hairline in shock.
Hunter grimaced. Of course Crosshair wouldn’t want Hunter’s mouth on him. That would take them to an even more awkward level with significantly less plausible deniability. He said quickly, “Sorry, just a thought. I’ll keep using my hand—”
Crosshair cut into his babbling. “You’d do that?” His face seemed to have grown even redder. To Hunter’s frustration, he couldn’t read his expression.
“Of course,” Hunter said, then blushed at how eager he must sound. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re injured, Crosshair. I’d do anything to help you get better.”
Something shuttered in Crosshair’s eyes. “Right,” he said stiffly. “Then…hurry up.”
Hunter backed up a little, just far enough to have room to maneuver. He ran a hand up Crosshair’s abdomen, then back down as he lowered himself onto his knees, putting himself face-to-face with Crosshair’s cock. Above him, Crosshair was staring down at him, both disbelief and wild desire evident in his eyes.
Hunter held the base of Crosshair’s shaft so he could better examine him and figure out how to go about the task. Using his hand hadn’t been dissimilar to doing it for himself in the sonic, but he didn’t have any prior experience with this. He had imagined it plenty, though, and he fancied himself a quick learner, especially given that he was going to get to test his ability on the very being he had been fantasizing about from the start.
He leaned in, extremely aware of that hot, piercing gaze on him. Resolutely, he licked the tip, and Crosshair gasped, his hips stuttering. He tasted of acrid brine and addictive musk, and Hunter was already hungering for more.
Eagerly, he dragged his tongue down the length and back up again. He lapped at the head, then down to the root, and along the vein on the underside, all the while listening carefully for Crosshair’s changes in breathing as a guide.
Then he edged closer and took Crosshair into his mouth. Crosshair cried out wordlessly, his hands coming up to grip the back of Hunter’s head.
A thrill ran through Hunter at the idea that he could elicit sounds like that from Crosshair. At the thought, his own neglected cock grew even heavier between his legs. Ignoring it, he swallowed more of Crosshair down, as far as he could manage. When he was at his limit, he pulled off with a gasp. Wetting his palm, he used his hand to make up the rest of the distance before trying it again.
As Hunter worked, Crosshair made little desperate, abbreviated sounds he was clearly trying to hold back. Eager to make him lose that careful control, Hunter picked up the rhythm, all else falling away as he focused on sucking and slurping, worshiping Crosshair in this precious, intimate way.
Gradually, he was able to fit more and more of him into his mouth, and Crosshair arched into him, digging his fingers into Hunter’s hair. The force of his grip and the way it pulled at the strands made sparks dance down Hunter’s spine.
Encouraged, Hunter soon managed to swallow Crosshair all the way down to the hilt, feeling him pushing down the back of his throat.
At that, Crosshair couldn’t restrain his moans any longer. “Where the hells did you learn this,” he gasped, his head knocking back against the wall.
Feeling absurdly proud of himself, Hunter pulled back, panting, then did it again, doing his best to establish a rhythm. The sensation was overwhelming, but with each stroke, the size became a little easier to handle, and he found he liked the challenge—liked that he could focus on nothing but this pressure; liked feeling Crosshair’s eyes riveted on him and his fingers pressing against his scalp; liked that he could surprise Crosshair in this way, give him pleasure in this way.
As he gorged himself on Crosshair’s length, his own dribbling between his legs, Hunter stroked up Crosshair’s calf with his free hand. He caressed the inside of his thigh, then cupped his tight sack in his palm and began gently massaging it with his fingers.
Crosshair made a strangled sound. “H-Hunter—”
His entire body shuddered. With a rapid jerk of his hips, he spilled onto Hunter’s tongue and down his face. Hunter coughed, not having expected the sudden flood, and more drooled obscenely down his chin.
“Kriff,” Crosshair muttered, his chest still heaving. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Hunter said, swiping at his face with the back of one hand and petting Crosshair’s thigh soothingly with the other. Basking in the monumental realization that he was now familiar with how Crosshair tasted, Hunter leaned his forehead against the jut of Crosshair’s bony hip, overcome. When Crosshair stroked his hair, Hunter’s eyes drifted shut of their own volition again, his heart swelling.
He remained there for a long moment, luxuriating in the sensation and in Crosshair’s alluring scent, before leaning back.
But looking up and meeting Crosshair’s gaze had been a mistake, because in his eyes there was something tender and reverent behind the fire, and for a moment, Hunter desperately wanted to believe that it was real and not merely a side effect of the toxin.
Then, Crosshair lifted his hand and settled his palm along Hunter’s jaw, cleaning off what he’d missed with surprisingly gentle fingers.
“You look good like this,” he purred. “On your knees and covered in me.”
Hunter’s stomach swooped as he pictured himself, disheveled and kneeling before the man he loved, the taste of him still lingering on his tongue. He shivered even as he leaned into Crosshair’s touch. Suddenly he felt like the one who had been bewitched.
As he watched with lidded eyes, Crosshair brought his hand up to his own face. Then, he tasted himself, tongue flickering at his fingertips, and Hunter nearly combusted.
“Karking hells,” he growled, renewed hunger surging through his veins. He leaped back to his feet and shoved Crosshair against the wall with a forceful arm. He pushed the hand out of the way so he could lean up and kiss him, hard. Crosshair melted into the embrace with a pleased sound, his fingers clawing down Hunter’s back.
His greedy hands kneaded Hunter’s ass, spreading the cheeks and leaving a whisper of a teasing touch along the cleft. Hunter shivered at the sensation, and Crosshair didn’t miss it, smirking lasciviously against his lips. That familiar smugness, equally infuriating and enthralling, made need surge in Hunter’s belly. His desire was an unstoppable storm, swirling and building in his chest.
He kissed down Crosshair’s jaw and sunk his teeth into the crook of his neck, enjoying the way Crosshair leaned into him and used the opportunity to run his hands over Hunter’s torso. Every time their still hard lengths brushed against each other, Hunter shivered. He tried to keep a careful distance; he needed to keep it together so he could take care of Crosshair.
Gradually, he ducked his head to continue trailing his mouth down Crosshair’s chest, mouthing at the attractive planes of muscle. He gave his left nipple an experimental lick.
“Oh,” Crosshair sighed, cupping the back of Hunter’s head again, the waves winding around his fingers.
Hunter discovered, to his delight, that sucking and biting Crosshair’s nipples made his knees buckle, and pinching and rubbing made him hold on tighter. He switched to the other nipple, running his teeth along the nub, and with his other hand, reached down to take both of their cocks in his fist.
In unison, they moaned at the contact. Hunter spat onto his fingers, using the saliva to ease the friction as he began to rub them together.
Crosshair keened, pushing himself desperately into the ring of Hunter’s hand, his abs flexing and his eyes wild. The gorgeous sight combined with the novel sensation of Crosshair hard against him had Hunter already feeling too worked up. Crosshair was just as hard as he’d been three rounds ago; given that they had no idea how long it would take to work off the toxin, Hunter was going to need to conserve his energy.
When he pulled away, Crosshair let out an actual whine, and the ferocity of it made Hunter blush.
“No,” Crosshair grumbled, “come on…”
“Shh,” Hunter soothed, stroking Crosshair’s arm. “I’ve got to make sure I don’t shoot off too fast.”
“Kriff,” Crosshair grunted, knocking his head against the wall in frustration.
That was when the doors slid open, and Tech strolled into the room.
“Oh,” he said, eyeing them. “Is this a bad time?”
“Yes,” Crosshair answered tetchily, while Hunter answered, “No,” at the same time.
Tech ignored them both, typing something into his datapad before busying himself with scanning Crosshair. Feeling awkward, Hunter sat down on the edge of Crosshair’s bunk.
“Hmm,” Tech said. “It appears that your toxin levels have begun decreasing, although not as quickly as I had anticipated.” He switched his datapad for his glowrod and tilted Crosshair’s chin up, examining his eyes one at a time. Crosshair made a soft noise at the skin-to-skin contact, leaning into the touch.
The sight of Crosshair seeming to enjoy the examination a little too much made Hunter frown. He was the one who had volunteered to help Crosshair, not Tech. Crosshair should only be reacting to him like that.
Groaning internally, he covered his face with his palm. This was getting out of hand. The sex was getting to his head, and he was starting to imagine that Crosshair actually returned his feelings. That was out of the question, he reminded himself. He didn’t have any claim to Crosshair, who likely would have accepted any of the others’ help, just as he had accepted Hunter’s. Just because the thought made him feel bitter and dejected didn’t make it any less true.
“Have you attempted penetration?” Tech was asking.
Hunter studiously avoided eye contact with Crosshair as he answered, “No. Why?”
“I believe that is what the toxin has been angling for. Without such measures, you may be able to eventually work it off, but penetrative sex would be most effective, as Hunter will, at a certain point, be limited by his refractory period.”
“Excuse you,” Hunter interjected half-heartedly.
“Well, find another way,” Crosshair snapped, and Hunter suppressed his disappointment. Of course Crosshair didn’t want to do that with him. He’d already had his boundaries torn down by this humiliating situation. That kind of intimacy would only make him feel worse.
Hunter exhaled, his self-hatred like vibroblades in his chest. What kind of awful person was he to imagine taking advantage of Crosshair in this vulnerable state?
“Very well,” Tech said. “Then until I find another solution, I estimate that the toxin will be flushed out in five to seven hours.”
As Crosshair swore, Tech handed Hunter a tube of light-use bacta gel. “I will return to monitor your progress at a later time. If you change your mind, please be cautious and use a liberal amount of bacta for both lubrication and tissue repair.”
“Ugh,” Crosshair groaned, waving him away. “We get it. Go away.”
His frustration made Hunter frown in sympathy. Once Tech left, Hunter beckoned Crosshair to join him.
Although he seemed reticent, Crosshair sat beside him on the edge of his bunk and put his face in his hands. Hunter tried very hard not to stare down at his lap, where he hadn’t flagged one bit and precome was beading at the tip. Hunter badly wanted to lean down and lick it off, and to sink his teeth into the swell of thigh.
Marshaling himself and dragging his eyes up to Crosshair’s face, Hunter said, “Hey, none of that. How are you feeling?”
“Like garbage,” Crosshair grumbled. “This can’t be over soon enough.”
Wincing in sympathy, Hunter offered, “You know, we could try what Tech suggested. If you’re open to it, obviously.”
Crosshair squinted at him suspiciously. “You’d be willing to…”
Hunter shrugged and forced a nonchalant tone. “If it would help you, yeah. Of course.”
Crosshair made a soft, needy sound. He immediately looked embarrassed and ducked his head, but Hunter’s blood rushed down his body, giving him the confidence to reach out and nudge Crosshair’s chin back toward himself.
Caressing his cheek, Hunter said, his voice hoarse, “You like the thought of that? You want to be inside me? Or the other way around?”
“Either. Both,” Crosshair replied. “I just need…more.” His eyes were liquid, full of need and hunger, and stars, how the hells was Hunter going to last?
He dragged Crosshair into a kiss, and Crosshair returned it enthusiastically. He clambered onto Hunter’s lap to get closer, his long legs curling around Hunter’s body and his gangly arms draping around his neck, all while he continued kissing Hunter open mouthed.
Enjoying the solid weight of Crosshair on his thighs, Hunter braced his waist and ran his other hand down his back, down his shoulder blades and the curve of his spine, and squeezed Crosshair’s ass. At the contact, Crosshair let out a quiet moan and wriggled closer in Hunter’s lap, their cocks slapping each other’s abdomens.
Crosshair reached for Hunter’s, but Hunter had to summon his willpower to bat his hand away. “If you touch me, I, uh… I’m going to blow too soon, and one of those options is gonna be very quickly off the table for the moment.”
Crosshair’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Is that so?”
“Some of us don’t have extraterrestrial-powered stamina at the moment,” Hunter returned sourly.
“Then we’d better make the most of it, hmm?” Crosshair said.
He reached behind Hunter, patting the sheets in search of the tube. Hunter snatched it up and handed it to Crosshair, watching with immense interest as he unscrewed the cap and lifted Hunter’s hand from where it was digging into his hip. He slicked up his fingers with the lube.
“Kriff,” Hunter breathed. “You sure?”
“Hurry up,” Crosshair said, then sunk his teeth into Hunter’s collarbone. Sharp pleasure coursed down Hunter’s spine. He both wanted to lean into the grounding feeling and wince away from the pain, and there was something thrilling about the paradox.
Tentatively, Hunter reached behind Crosshair and grazed two fingers between his thighs. A soft noise escaped Crosshair, and the way he spread his legs farther apart had Hunter’s pulse racing.
“Come on, come on,” Crosshair said through gritted teeth.
“You ever done this before?” Hunter asked, rubbing a little but maintaining a light touch.
Crosshair shook his head, and Hunter’s eyes widened. “And you’re okay with me…”
“Just do it already,” Crosshair snapped.
“All right, all right,” Hunter said. Slowly, carefully, he began to press his trigger finger into Crosshair, whose eyes blew wide. He moaned softly as Hunter wriggled the first knuckle around, getting a feel for what he was working with.
Stars, Crosshair was tight. Just imagining his cock in place of his finger had Hunter’s breath catching. As he continued to push in, though, he realized the angle was a little awkward, so he cradled Crosshair’s waist and maneuvered him until his back hit the bunk.
Their frantic activities had already left Hunter’s hair and bandana askew, and the movement completely dislodged it. With his free hand, he tugged it off, tossing it somewhere in the proximity of his abandoned kit. His hair fell in a curtain around his face as he leaned over Crosshair, continuing to work his finger into him.
Crosshair made an odd, strangled sound, and then grabbed him, yanking him down for a brutal kiss. Hunter went readily, Crosshair’s greedy mouth making arousal coil tighter and tighter in his stomach.
While he was distracted, Hunter slowly worked a second finger in, and when he rocked them together, Crosshair moaned, loud and uninhibited. His face was flushed, sweat dripping down his brow, and Hunter was falling for him all over again.
“Touch me,” Crosshair demanded, and Hunter acquiesced, wrapping his free hand around him, pumping him and thrusting his fingers in tandem.
Crosshair arched his neck and clenched down, and with a cry, splattered his own chest. Hunter left sloppy kisses along his collarbone and scraped his teeth against his nipples as he came down from it. Crosshair writhed, his features slack with pleasure.
“Enough preparation,” he said. “I need…”
Hunter tried to get a hold on himself so he could think through the logistics. If this was going to be Crosshair’s first time, he wanted it to be good. But would Crosshair later be annoyed that the toxin had stolen this first experience from him—that his memories would be forever tainted by Hunter’s presence?
It took everything in Hunter to concede as he studiously slicked himself up, hissing with the effort it took not to come from just that touch, “If you turn around, you can pretend it’s not me.”
“Why would I want to do that?” Crosshair snapped, and Hunter’s heartbeat quickened, a dangerous hope welling up in his chest. He squashed it mercilessly. Crosshair was delirious and didn’t know what he was saying.
“Just checking,” Hunter mumbled.
Crosshair looped a leg around his waist and pulled him in closer. “I’m not going to pretend it’s anyone else,” he said.
Hunter swallowed hard. Crosshair didn’t mean his tempting words the way they sounded. He couldn’t.
To distract himself from his longing, he focused on arranging Crosshair’s legs over his arms and lining himself up with Crosshair’s entrance. Crosshair leaned up eagerly toward him, and Hunter had to press down on his hip with his free hand to keep him in place so he could take it slow. The forceful touch made Crosshair’s breath hitch, and Hunter glanced up at his face, surprised. He filed that intriguing observation away for later examination.
His earlier suspicions had been correct. Despite his attempt at preparation, Crosshair was so tight that Hunter almost went off just from feeling the pressure around his cockhead.
“Oh, hells,” he groaned, pausing to take the base of his shaft in a death grip and squeeze his eyes shut as he tried desperately to think of long, boring meetings with righteous reg commanders. He was already on the brink, but he had to last. He had a duty to help Crosshair, to ease his suffering as quickly as possible.
Crosshair pushed toward him once more, sheathing him halfway, and Hunter stammered, “No, don’t move—kark—”
When he opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Crosshair splayed out before him, his cock drooling onto his belly, and Hunter partially inside of him, almost all his hard work staving off his release was immediately undone. Crosshair had fallen quiet, his lips pressed together and his eyes huge.
Hunter ran a gentle hand down his abdomen. “Does it hurt?” he asked, worried.
“It’s fine,” Crosshair said, but his voice was tense.
Hunter frowned. “Do you want to stop?”
“No!” Crosshair growled.
“All right, all right. Let me know.” Hunter, feeling bold, lifted Crosshair’s left hand from the bunk and kissed the palm of it. Then hoping to distract him, he squirted more gel onto his hand and wrapped it around Crosshair’s shaft. He pumped him with long, languid strokes, making him gasp and clutch the bunk.
His gaze riveted to Hunter, Crosshair said, “Okay, move.”
Hunter wiped his hand off and then gripped Crosshair’s hips and obeyed, pushing in the rest of the way, watching Crosshair carefully all the while. His eyes were half-lidded and dazed, and a pretty pink flush decorated his cheeks and chest. From this perspective, Hunter could see the vista of all the bruises he’d sucked and bitten into Crosshair’s skin. He was ashamed of how much he liked the sight of them—and how much he liked being the first to ever see Crosshair laid out like this. He wanted to be the only one to ever get to see it, the only one allowed to touch Crosshair, the only one who could make him dissolve like this.
“More,” Crosshair demanded, and Hunter thrust cautiously, once, then twice. When Crosshair nodded and grasped Hunter’s arm in encouragement, Hunter sped up, starting to establish a rhythm.
With a moan, Crosshair leaned into it, pushing himself off the bunk and meeting the thrusts. Each sweet collision had him arching his elegant neck back with a gasp. Hunter chased that sound, wanting to hear it again and again.
He wanted to be closer, needed to be closer—to pretend for just another moment that Crosshair was under him because he wanted to be, that he was Hunter’s for real.
He rearranged Crosshair’s legs so he could lean down and kiss him like he desperately wanted to, but before he did, Crosshair cried out, “Hunter!”
Hunter stopped immediately, fearing something was wrong, but Crosshair tugged at his hips and demanded, “Just like that, come on—”
Something about Crosshair begging set Hunter ablaze. He focused on replicating what he’d done and was rewarded with Crosshair losing what little composure he had left. He slapped his hand over his mouth to obscure his increasingly desperate noises, but Hunter pushed it aside.
“Let me hear you,” he rumbled, and Crosshair’s mouth parted. Hunter bent down to try to steal that kiss again, and this time Crosshair met him, their mouths crashing together, practically devouring each other. That intimacy coupled with the exhilarating feeling of Crosshair squeezing so tightly around him felt unbearably good, unbearably sacred.
“Hunter,” Crosshair repeated, one hand digging into the meat of Hunter’s ass and the other reaching between them for his own cock. His eyes kept fluttering shut, yet he seemed determined to watch Hunter as he pounded into him. The eye contact felt almost too precious, too surreal, making Hunter’s heart race at lightspeed, but he couldn’t bear to look away.
“You like that? You want more?” he murmured, barely aware of what he was saying. The rush of continuous pleasure was setting him aflame, and he trembled with the effort it took to hold himself back. But Crosshair nodded eagerly, gripping him tighter, his other hand accelerating.
Hunter covered the latter with his own hand and helped Crosshair bring himself off. Tossing his head, Crosshair chanted Hunter’s name in a litany, and Hunter’s chest swelled with emotion as he continued to snap his hips, chasing bliss and watching hungrily as Crosshair unraveled. It was probably karked up of him, but Hunter knew without doubt that he would be jerking himself off to the memory an endless number of times in the future.
“Hunter, Hunter—”
Then Crosshair was shooting over their joined hands with a euphoric cry. The sight made Hunter’s mouth water. He continued to fuck him through it, but when Crosshair sagged, looking dazed, Hunter stopped, unsure of the etiquette. He felt like he was mere seconds from going off, but he restrained himself. He was ostensibly here to help Crosshair, not for his own pleasure—not that his head wasn’t spinning with pleasure despite that, though.
Crosshair cupped Hunter’s jaw and kissed him, almost tenderly. When he pulled back, he was wearing a soft expression Hunter had never seen on his face before. His eyes darted back and forth, as if he, too, were memorizing the moment.
Hunter’s heart squeezed, and he ruthlessly squashed down its foolish hope. He shouldn’t read too much into it. Crosshair had never shown any signs of being interested in him, he reminded himself, and there was no reason he would suddenly be now.
“Good?” he rasped, hovering over Crosshair.
“Very good,” Crosshair purred, and Hunter’s stomach fluttered at the boon to his ego. Even if Crosshair didn’t want him for real, at least Hunter had given him a good first time. He selfishly hoped this instance would stick with Crosshair, would be something worth remembering.
Running his hands down Hunter’s back and over the swell of his ass, Crosshair said, “Come on then, don’t stop now.”
Hunter moaned in relief. “Not going to last long, to be honest,” he admitted, as he began snapping his hips again, his pleasure immediately spiraling higher and higher.
Would it be rude to come inside Crosshair? Worried, he started to pull away, but Crosshair stopped him by winding his legs around his waist.
“Is it—can I—” Hunter stammered.
“Inside me,” Crosshair commanded, and Hunter was hardly going to turn him down.
A few strokes later, his nerves lit up, his entire body aflame. His release hit him like a runaway cargo ship, and he collapsed onto Crosshair with the strength of it.
Crosshair carded a surprisingly gentle hand through Hunter’s hair as he shuddered through the aftershocks. The sensation was almost as good as the sex itself. Almost.
Eventually, Hunter gathered his wits and pulled out with a grunt. He cleaned them both off and sat back on his knees to look Crosshair over.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “You look a little better.”
“Yeah,” Crosshair said, wiping at the sweat dripping down his forehead. “That definitely helped.”
“Can I get you anything?” Hunter asked.
“Wouldn’t say no to some water.”
“You got it.” He patted Crosshair’s calf and dragged himself out of the bunk to slide back into his lowers. “Be right back.”
Leaving the room was sobering. It was as if Hunter had constructed a fantasy within it and stepping out past the threshold shattered that precious daydream. Reality made his heart clench. Out here, Crosshair didn’t want him. Out here, they were just squad mates, just brothers, and after today Hunter would never get to be with him again.
Exhaling shakily, he pushed the heartwrenching thought away and moved quickly, grabbing some fresh cleaning rags and filling Crosshair’s thermajug with water. Tech intercepted him as he was grabbing hydration tablets from the medkit.
“What is Crosshair’s status?”
“He’s doing better,” Hunter said. “Think you were right about the, uh, penetration.”
“Excellent,” Tech said. “Do you require more lubrication?”
Hunter flushed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
When he returned to the bunkroom, he was struck by the overwhelming stench of sex before he could even process the sight before him. Crosshair had rolled over and gotten onto his knees, with his torso pressed to the bunk, and he was pushing the tips of two slicked-up fingers into himself. Hunter swore he heard Crosshair murmur his name between pants, and the thought made his face burn scarlet.
Was Crosshair thinking about him? It was absurd for that thought to excite him when he had been inside Crosshair mere moments ago, but the idea of Crosshair still thinking about him when he wasn’t even in the room was almost too much to process.
Overcome, Hunter set the supplies down on the nearest surface. At the sound, Crosshair seemed to finally realize he wasn’t alone. He withdrew his fingers and began to push himself upright, but Hunter ordered, “Stay there.” He hadn’t intended to use his command voice, but it was what came out, and it seemed to work, because Crosshair froze in place.
Hunter strode over to the bunk and pushed down on Crosshair’s back, keeping him splayed out. Crosshair went down with a grunt, scrabbling for leverage. Before he could raise himself back up again, Hunter dragged his knees up and his legs apart, immobilizing him.
The sight of Crosshair propped up before him, exposed and for his eyes only, made heat flare in Hunter’s belly. Parting his cheeks, he ran an admiring thumb across the glistening pucker of Crosshair’s entrance, remembering how incredible it had felt around him. On a whim, he leaned down and licked a wide stripe across it.
Crosshair squeaked, his entire body stiffening. Hunter smirked and bit into the flesh of his ass. Crosshair leaned back into him, practically pleading, and that only fed the fire in Hunter’s belly.
He licked his own hand before wrapping his fist around Crosshair’s length, where it hung heavy between his legs. Then he continued lapping at Crosshair’s hole, the lingering bacta making his tongue tingle. The dual sensations made Crosshair shudder, his knees nearly giving out.
“I said stay,” Hunter commanded, stopping him from collapsing with a firm grip on his hip. He fully expected Crosshair to scoff at him, but instead he made a soft noise and dug his knees in place, his jaw set in determination.
Hunter blinked, surprised at his easy obedience. Experimentally, he told him in the same authoritative voice, “No matter what I do, I want you to stay there on your knees. Can you do that for me?”
Instead of flipping around and socking him in the jaw for the mere suggestion, Crosshair said through grit teeth, “Sir, yes, sir.”
Hunter was not expecting the frisson of heat that raced up his spine at the words. He rewarded Crosshair by sinking his teeth into the flesh of his ass again, leaving a trail of little bruises behind. Crosshair squirmed, panting harder with each bite.
When Hunter began pumping Crosshair’s cock again, Crosshair cried out, legs trembling. But he remained in place. Pleased, Hunter ran an admiring hand over his flank in approval and returned to laving Crosshair’s hole with his tongue. He licked all the way down to his sack, taking one ball into his mouth.
Crosshair shouted, his legs giving out.
Hunter dragged Crosshair back into position. “What did I say, soldier?” he scolded, and Crosshair made a broken sound.
“Sorry, sir,” he gasped, pressing his forehead to the bunk. “I deserve to be punished, sir.”
Hunter’s eyes widened. He wasn’t in the habit of punishing his squad mates, given that he doubted it would do anything to curb their rowdiness. But this was practically Crosshair begging for him to. What would be a suitable punishment?
He lifted his hand and slapped his palm against Crosshair’s rump. The impact stung his skin, but the sound was satisfying.
Crosshair gasped, but he didn’t complain like Hunter was half expecting, so Hunter spanked him again, aiming for the plumpest part of his other cheek. This time, Crosshair whined, and his cock twitched. Encouraged, Hunter did it again.
By the sixth swat, Hunter had figured out the perfect amount of force to apply, and Crosshair’s skin had begun to turn a pretty shade of pink beneath his palm. The rawness seemed to make the smacks feel even better to Crosshair, who was making soft, whimpering noises.
After the tenth slap, Hunter paused and rubbed the reddened flesh, admiring his work. Crosshair was breathing raggedly, his entire body trembling and his cock drooling continuously onto the bunk.
“You’ve been so good for me,” Hunter said. “But you disobeyed orders, trooper. Can you make it to twenty?”
“Yes, sir,” he croaked belatedly. “Whatever you want, sir.”
The words made greedy arousal shoot through Hunter. He wondered if Crosshair actually enjoyed being ordered around like this, or if it was just the pollen talking. Through his mind raced all sorts of other ideas for orders he could give Crosshair. It was a dangerously alluring train of thought. Trying to keep a hold on himself, Hunter leaned down to press light kisses to both spots and then lifted his hand again.
By the twentieth swat, Crosshair was a quivering mess. “Sir,” he panted. “I…I need…”
“I’ve got you,” Hunter soothed, though he was feeling anything but calm, his cock full once again. There was something incredibly intoxicating about Crosshair yielding his control and trusting Hunter with something like this. “Turn over for me, trooper.”
Crosshair obeyed, his back hitting the bunk. He looked dazed and euphoric. Hunter knelt between his crooked legs and took him in hand. He had barely put his mouth over the tip before Crosshair was writhing and spilling down his throat with a cry.
This time, Hunter was prepared and swallowed it down. Idly, he noted that he would’ve expected Crosshair to be shooting dry at this point, but the toxin must be speeding up production. With the taste of Crosshair on his tongue, Hunter couldn’t say he minded.
As Crosshair came down from it, Hunter smoothed his hand down his sternum, along his sides, and up his arms, trying to make up for the rough treatment.
When Hunter looked up, Crosshair was staring at him, his eyes lidded and expression docile. An apology didn’t seem right, but Hunter felt the urge to say something to acknowledge what Crosshair had borne. He settled on, “Good work, soldier,” hoping Crosshair wouldn’t take offense, especially now that they were face-to-face again.
To his relief, a flicker of pride flashed in Crosshair’s eyes. “Yeah?” he rasped.
“Mm-hmm,” Hunter said. “Excellent job.”
Crosshair shivered. “Get up here,” he demanded. He manhandled Hunter until they were facing each other, then pulled him into a deep kiss. Hunter melted into it, running his fingers through Crosshair’s silver strands and petting the hair on his chest.
When they parted a long time later, Hunter handed Crosshair the water and tablets. While Crosshair rehydrated himself, Hunter grabbed the bacta gel tube and drizzled its contents onto his fingers. He reached behind himself carefully.
“What are you doing?” Crosshair asked, sounding alarmed.
“Figured you could try doing me and see if it helps.”
“You’d let me…” Crosshair said, then swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure if you are,” Hunter said, though he was more than sure. Now that he had felt the unforgettable sensation of being inside Crosshair, he was aching for this other thing that he had spent so much time imagining but had never, ever expected to actually get to experience.
“I’m sure.” Crosshair bit his lip. “Can I—” He chugged the rest of the water and downed a couple tablets before holding his hand out for the tube. When Hunter handed it over, Crosshair tackled him and flipped them over. Hunter landed on his stomach with a grunt.
“You must be tired,” Crosshair said, running a hand down his spine. Hunter shivered at the touch, casual and soothing, and he indulged himself in imagining it felt a little possessive, too. “Relax. Save your energy. Let me.”
Although it was a good idea in theory, there was no way Hunter could relax with Crosshair spreading his cheeks and rubbing at his entrance with a slick fingertip.
At the probing touch, his legs fell open to give Crosshair more room to maneuver, and Crosshair made a pleased sound. Hunter blushed hotly at how eager and obvious he must seem from Crosshair’s perspective.
Carefully, Crosshair worked his finger in, leaning down to suck bruises on Hunter’s inner thighs as he did so. Hunter tried not to squirm, to make this as easy on Crosshair as possible, even as anticipation made him shivery.
At two fingers, Hunter was sucking his teeth; he already felt so full. And then Crosshair crooked them inside him, pressing lightly, and Hunter jolted with a loud, embarrassing gasp. So that was how it felt on this end. No wonder Crosshair had reacted the way he had when Hunter had accidentally struck that place inside him.
He glanced over his shoulder, expecting Crosshair to be smirking at him now, but he was instead staring down at his fingers in wonder as he repeated the motion, then again. Electric pleasure coursed through Hunter, and he hardly managed to muffle his moans against the bunk.
“Stars—”
When Crosshair began alternating between pressing the sensitive spot and rubbing it, all the nerve endings in Hunter’s body lit up at once. Whining helplessly, he chased the feeling, practically humping Crosshair’s hand as he continued to work his fingers relentlessly, applying what appeared to be the perfect amount of pressure to make Hunter feel like he was being struck by lightning each time.
“Kriff, you take me so well,” Crosshair breathed, sounding just as affected. Between the dizzying spikes of pleasure, Hunter eventually realized the cause of the abbreviated noises Crosshair was making was him stripping his own cock. With great effort, he attempted to gain enough control of his trembling limbs to catch another glimpse over his shoulder.
Crosshair was staring at him, and the hunger ablaze in his eyes when their gazes met zinged through Hunter, making him overly aware of every molecule in his body. Still keening, he drank in the tantalizing sight of Crosshair’s fist tight around his swollen cock and moving at light speed, of his chest heaving as if he were the one being taken apart.
The knowledge made Hunter’s pleasure wind even higher, and he turned back, pressing his forehead to the bunk with a whimper. He felt like he was being consumed entirely. Every shift of his hips rubbed his cock against the surface of the bunk, agonizing and incredible, and the layering of overwhelming sensations brought him closer and closer to the brink, making him cry out helplessly.
“Please, please—”
With his mind turned to static, it was impossible to articulate what it was he needed—all he knew was that the pressure within him was building, and the relentless tides of pleasure had him feeling unbearably yet gloriously full. He couldn’t take any more, but at the same time he never wanted it to end—
“Anything,” Crosshair panted, sounding just as wrecked. “Anything you want, it’s yours—”
Release tore through Hunter’s body. He was barely aware of shouting incoherently, barely aware of anything other than the pressure rocking his body with the force of ten detonations. He was shooting off onto the bunk, with more force and volume than he had ever before. And it didn’t stop like he expected, as if his body had more to give than ever before.
Hunter gnashed his teeth, his nerves vibrating. It was as if his entire body had taken a jump to hyperspace. He had never felt anything so intense in his life.
“Oh, kark,” Crosshair was gasping behind him. “You really—I didn’t even touch your deece, and you—you—”
He moaned, long and desperate, and his release splattered onto the curve of Hunter’s spine, warm and wet.
Hunter was floating, boneless. Vaguely, he registered Crosshair bending down and licking his spunk off his back, his tongue slow and sensual.
“You ready?” Crosshair murmured.
With his brain leaking out of his ears, Hunter had forgotten why Crosshair had begun fingering him in the first place. Oh, stars, if he nudged that spot with his cock, Hunter was going to die.
He tried to summon his brain back into his head. He had a responsibility to attend to. Crosshair needed him. But the first few times he tried to speak, he couldn’t summon the words.
“More than,” he managed to croak eventually.
He expected Crosshair to just take him like that, on his stomach; just because he hadn’t minded Hunter being the one to fuck him didn’t mean he would feel the same way about doing it to Hunter. And Hunter didn’t think he was going to be capable of moving for another ten years.
But to his surprise, Crosshair nudged him onto his back before slicking himself up. Hunter watched him, enthralled, his heart thundering in his ears at the suddenly very real prospect of Crosshair being inside him, the way he’d been inside Crosshair earlier. He still couldn’t believe he was getting to experience these precious, impossible things. He was never going to be the same after this.
But despite his eagerness and Crosshair patiently opening him up, Hunter was still completely unprepared for the reality of Crosshair entering him. The overwhelming pressure from just the tip of his cock had Hunter trembling. He gripped his legs tighter, holding them aloft.
Crosshair paused and kissed his knee, making Hunter’s stomach flutter. “Okay?” he asked.
Hunter breathed out. “Yeah,” he replied. Given how sensitive Crosshair was at the moment, remaining still had to be killing him. “Keep going.”
Crosshair narrowed his eyes knowingly. He gave Hunter another moment to adjust, watching him carefully, before gradually beginning to push farther in. Hunter gasped when Crosshair got all the way down to the root and he could feel his hips flush against him.
“Hunter,” Crosshair said, hushed, and Hunter thought he was about to voice a request or complaint, but instead Crosshair simply lifted one of Hunter’s legs onto his shoulders and rested his forehead on Hunter’s calf. Although the fever appeared to have decreased momentarily, his motions less frantic, he still looked entirely overwhelmed.
It gave Hunter time to adjust, at least. But the more he got used to the monumental sensation of Crosshair inside him, the greedier he felt.
“Come on,” he murmured, breathing hard. “Show me what you’ve got.”
That seemed to reenergize Crosshair, putting a smirk on his face. He shifted his hips experimentally, then again, continuing to monitor Hunter, and at Hunter’s urging, he began to thrust properly. Hunter groaned. It was intense but good.
Then Crosshair folded Hunter’s legs against his chest, pressing down on him, and his next thrust made lightning dance down Hunter’s spine again.
“Oh, stars,” he panted.
His reaction made Crosshair lick his lips, and he repeated the motion, and again. Soon, Hunter was writhing beneath him, needy little moans escaping despite his attempts to hold them back.
Feeling completely unmoored, Hunter grasped desperately at Crosshair, searching for an anchor—gripping his shoulders and running his hands down his arm, along his flank, over the firm muscles of his ass.
Crosshair pushed his legs even higher, until Hunter was practically folded in half. And then Crosshair started fucking into him from above like he was doing push-ups before a spar, nearly pulling out with each stroke before slamming back in. Gravity made each thrust strike Hunter’s prostate even more intensely.
He could no longer hold it together, moaning uninhibitedly at the dizzying waves of bliss.
The sounds emerging from Hunter seemed to make Crosshair more frantic, more eager to please, and he looked impossibly handsome with that furrow in his brow and focused glint in his eye, his face still pink, his chest heaving with the effort he was putting in.
Crosshair’s eyes swept over Hunter greedily, as if he couldn’t soak up his reactions quickly enough. Pleasure blazing within him, Hunter locked gazes with Crosshair, the eye contact doubling the intensity of every sensation.
Soon, Crosshair was panting, “I—I’m going to—”
“Give it to me,” Hunter growled, raking his fingernails down Crosshair’s chest.
Moaning, Crosshair snapped his hips rough and fast, chasing his release and shaking apart.
Hunter squirmed at the unfamiliar sensation of warm wetness inside him, but he was distracted by Crosshair collapsing atop him and practically attacking him with open-mouthed kisses.
When Crosshair, still inside Hunter, moved on to tasting his neck, Hunter mumbled, “Mind if I…?” He tried to reach between them to take himself in hand. He was so close again, too, and he just needed—
Crosshair’s gaze flickered up to his, and when he shifted, he deliberately dragged the planes of his abdomen against Hunter’s straining erection as he sat back. Hunter groaned at the delicious friction.
He had only expected Crosshair to pump him a few times and get back to it—that coupled with the feeling of Crosshair still hard inside him despite his release would have been more than enough to tip Hunter over the edge.
But Crosshair instead pulled out with an obscene squelch that made Hunter’s face heat.
Hopping off the bunk, Crosshair dragged Hunter to the edge of it. Hunter watched his swollen cock bounce as he sank to his knees before him.
“Sit up,” Crosshair said with a gentle slap to Hunter’s thigh.
Hunter did, but he stared down at Crosshair in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“I thought we were supposed to getting you off,” Hunter pointed out.
“This is going to get me off,” Crosshair retorted, and Hunter frowned, puzzled about how that could be. Crosshair mumbled, “I’ve always wanted…”
But Hunter didn’t have the opportunity to find out about the end of that tempting sentence, because without any further warning, Crosshair wrapped his hand around the base of Hunter’s cock and then began lapping at the liquid beading at the tip.
Sparks of pleasure shot up Hunter’s spine. He shivered, biting his lip against the sound that threatened to escape.
“Kark, you taste good,” Crosshair groaned as he slurped at the length, and Hunter felt his face heat. Somehow hearing those words felt almost more intimate than some of the other things they’d done today.
Crosshair seemed to mean it, though, because he began dragging his lips along the sides of Hunter’s cock, leaving it shiny with spit all over. The sensation of his tongue pressing along the underside left Hunter feeling dizzy, raw need clouding his senses.
Eagerly, Crosshair swallowed him down and began bobbing his head, gradually taking in more and more of him, until Hunter could feel himself pushing down his throat. He moaned, his nerves buzzing at the tight, wet warmth and the restraint it took not to push any further.
But when Crosshair pulled off with a gasp, he picked up Hunter’s hands and set them on his head before demanding, “Come on, thrust.”
Hunter blinked down at him, worried he might hurt him, but Crosshair’s gaze was bright with excitement and hunger.
Trepidatiously, Hunter pushed into Crosshair’s mouth, then pulled back before thrusting in again. He swore, gripping Crosshair’s head tighter. Not only did it feel incredible, but Crosshair was moaning as if he were the one with a mouth around his cock.
Crosshair pulled off again, fumbling for the lube. He squirted a small amount onto his fingers before smirking up at Hunter and saying, “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”
Then his hand disappeared, and he took Hunter back into his mouth. Hunter groaned. It wasn’t fair how alluring Crosshair managed to be, even when he was ill. He was powerless against it.
Bolstered, Hunter dug his fingers into Crosshair’s scalp and began thrusting with more confidence. The acceleration in speed also made it rougher, which Crosshair seemed to enjoy, his eyes drifting shut and moans turning into whimpers as he hollowed his throat and let Hunter use it, chasing his pleasure.
Crosshair’s arm was moving rapidly, and Hunter realized with a start that he was jacking himself as Hunter fucked his mouth, just as he had when he’d been fingering Hunter earlier.
He stared down at him with wide eyes. The idea that giving Hunter pleasure turned Crosshair on to this extent was too dangerous, too seductive to dwell on. Hunter wanted so badly to be the one to receive that pleasure, to be the only one allowed to see Crosshair like this, glutting himself on his cock like it was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth.
When Crosshair looked up and met his gaze, his own blazing gold, Hunter’s heart rate skyrocketed. This act was so intimate, and Crosshair’s mouth felt incredible, and most amazingly, the rougher and faster Hunter fucked his mouth, the more euphoric he looked. That was practically hotter than the suckjob itself.
The unceasing pleasure in his belly spiraled higher and higher. Hunter gasped, “Crosshair—I’m going to—”
Crosshair pulled off with a pop, and Hunter whined as his impending release was cut off.
“How long do you think you can last without going off?” Crosshair asked.
“The way this is going?” Hunter replied. “Not long.”
“Let’s find out. Don’t come yet.”
Hunter groaned. “You can’t be serious.”
Crosshair smirked up at him. “I'm very serious.”
Lowering his head, he nibbled on Hunter’s thigh and sucked a haphazard row of bruises into the skin there. It took everything for Hunter not to just shove himself back into Crosshair’s mouth so he could spill onto his tongue.
“Come on, turn over for me,” Crosshair urged.
Grumbling, Hunter obeyed. He hissed as his cock brushed the bunk. He could hear Crosshair slicking himself up again, and then he was rubbing his cockhead against Hunter’s entrance. Anticipation coiled in Hunter’s belly.
Standing behind him, Crosshair began to push into him. From this angle, the stretch felt even more impossible than before, but the intensity was grounding, too. Hunter did everything he could to focus on the pressure and not the way he felt like he was about to burst. Helplessly, he humped the bunk, chasing the edge of the cliff.
“Close?” Crosshair murmured. Hunter nodded weakly, and whined when Crosshair lifted his hips, propping him up on his knees and removing the source of friction.
“Fuck yourself on me,” Crosshair murmured. “Show me how badly you need it.”
Hunter groaned. The thought was humiliating, and his legs felt like jelly fruit, but if that was what Crosshair wanted, then Hunter wouldn’t hesitate to give it to him.
Slowly, he began pushing himself back onto Crosshair’s cock. Though his movements were jagged and unrhythmic, Crosshair sounded overcome all the same.
“Oh, hells, just like that—”
As Hunter did his best to keep up the pace, Crosshair dug his fingers into the meat of Hunter’s ass and parted the cheeks, making his face heat. Whatever Crosshair saw there elicited a strangled noise from him.
“Kark, what you do to me,” he gasped, and Hunter blushed even harder, closing his eyes and imagining how it would feel if Crosshair truly meant that, if this desire hadn’t been forced upon him.
Kneading Hunter’s ass, Crosshair took over for him, increasing the pace and snapping his hips fast and hard. Hunter’s forehead hit the bunk with a gasp. He felt so vulnerable like this, with his head down and his ass in Crosshair’s grip, and it was entirely intoxicating. The brutal pace had him scrabbling at the bunk and moaning uncontrollably, his mind beginning to buzz with a blissful blankness.
This time, when Crosshair shuddered apart, it was with a stuttering cry that made Hunter shiver in delight, preening at being the one to make him feel that good.
Panting, Crosshair tumbled them onto the bunk, and dragged Hunter into a hungry kiss. Their stubble scraped together as their tongues tangled, and Hunter’s stomach fluttered helplessly.
He felt boneless and pleasantly lightheaded, his hindered release fading into background noise as Crosshair turned him onto his side and grabbed for more bacta. When he lay alongside him and pressed into him from behind, Hunter could feel it pushing his spend back into him, and he flushed scarlet at the idea of Crosshair continuing to come inside him, filling him up with release after release. He found himself eager to find out how many more he might be allowed to have.
Overcome by the thought, Hunter reached behind himself to grasp for Crosshair’s hip and pull him closer. Crosshair acquiesced with a pleased noise, groping Hunter’s thigh and lifting it, his fingertips digging into his flesh as he splayed him open and began fucking him again.
They were kissing heatedly, Hunter’s head turned back as Crosshair slid into him with deep, languid strokes, when Tech barged in.
Crosshair glared at him and hissed, “Do you mind?”
Hunter’s face heated at the idea of Tech seeing him like this, so transparent in his eagerness to be a vessel for Crosshair’s desire, in his smugness that Crosshair wasn’t going to be paying this much attention to anyone else, even if it was just because of the toxin.
Ignoring both Crosshair’s irritation and Hunter’s embarrassment, Tech brandished his datapad and said, “Sit up so I can scan you, please.”
With a petulant sigh, Crosshair pulled out and twisted them around so that he was sitting with Hunter on his lap, his back to Crosshair’s chest. At Crosshair’s prompting, Hunter lifted his hips and leaned back against him, and Crosshair helped him sink back down onto his length. Hunter only managed to bite off half his moan.
He blushed at how exposed he felt, his legs spread over Crosshair’s and the swollen rim of his hole stretched around his cock. Oddly, the thought was not only embarrassing but also a little thrilling.
With that in mind, he eagerly started rocking his hips, but Crosshair stopped him with an arm around his torso.
“Hold still for Tech,” he murmured, his legs shifting outward so that Hunter’s own spread even wider and he lost his leverage for movement, instead sinking helplessly into the dip of Crosshair’s lap.
Somehow the abrupt pause in stimulation and not being able to move made Hunter feel even hotter. He wanted so badly to ride Crosshair, but he knew he shouldn’t fight it, which left him with no choice but to remain in this position, warming Crosshair’s cock.
As Tech scanned them, Hunter leaned his head on Crosshair’s shoulder, tortured noises escaping him. He was doing his best to stay still, but it was almost too much. Not moving gave him the opportunity to really feel just how full he felt with Crosshair inside him, how he felt pushed to the limit. And Tech’s gaze on them, no matter how clinical it was, made him feel hot all over.
Crosshair buried his nose into Hunter’s hair, likely having an even harder time not moving. He tugged on Hunter’s earlobe with his teeth, making him gasp, and reached down to play with his nipples, pinching and rolling them between his deft fingers. Hunter whined at the teasing sensations, none of them remotely enough. He needed more, he needed—
“Are you finished?” Crosshair growled at Tech, who shot him an exasperated look from over his datapad. With a petulant huff, Crosshair wrapped his fist around Hunter’s aching cock and began to pump him. Hunter moaned in sweet relief, as heat began to coil in his belly, spiraling higher and higher—
But just as he tensed, beginning to feel his release swelling within him, Crosshair dropped his hand. Hunter cursed in frustration.
“Crosshair, just let me—”
“No,” Crosshair purred, sucking on the side of his neck. “Not yet.”
“Asshole,” Hunter groaned.
“Distract yourself,” Crosshair murmured, sliding the tips of two fingers into Hunter’s mouth. Hunter sucked on them sullenly.
Tech adjusted his goggles and looked up from his datapad. “Your fever symptoms have steadily decreased, and your vitals appear to have improved greatly,” he said. “According to my calculations, the toxin will likely be completely flushed out of your system within the next hour if you keep up what you’re doing.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Crosshair purred, running his free hand greedily up Hunter’s torso. Before Tech had even reached the door, Crosshair was already repositioning himself so Hunter could sit back up again. He retrieved his fingers and reached down to cup and tug at Hunter’s sensitive sack, making him gasp and rock back into Crosshair instinctively.
Smoothing his other hand down Hunter’s trembling thighs, Crosshair murmured, “You can take so much, can’t you? How about you ride me and show me just how much?”
Hunter shivered and nodded eagerly—though to be fair, he felt as if he would agree to anything that Crosshair asked of him at the moment, especially if it would help relieve the unexpelled pressure simmering within him.
Seeming pleased, Crosshair rearranged Hunter so that he was kneeling on the bunk, still facing outward, and then lay back himself. Searing with need, Hunter began rocking immediately, shuddering in ecstasy and relief at finally being free to move. To his delight, the angle struck his prostate perfectly.
Crosshair groped his ass from behind, running his hand over the curve and slapping it lightly. “Kark, you look good like this,” he groaned, already sounding wrecked again.
Hunter preened, still riding the high of showing off to Tech, and bent forward and braced his hands on Crosshair’s legs for more leverage as he began to bounce and to give Crosshair an even better view. He couldn’t help wanting to luxuriate in the attention while it lasted—while Crosshair had reason to look at him, to desire him.
His strategy seemed to work, because when he glanced over his shoulder at Crosshair, he was leaning up on his elbow and staring at Hunter like he wanted to eat him alive.
Encouraged, Hunter rose to brace his feet flat on the bunk, and they moaned in unison the next time he seated himself. With the additional leverage, he was able to slam his hips down with greater force, and he grinned triumphantly to himself when Crosshair flopped back onto the bunk, moaning over the rhythmic slap of their flesh.
Eventually, the exhaustion began to creep up on Hunter, his chest heaving and his pace beginning to slow as he started to feel his legs falter. Still, determined to do this for Crosshair, and for himself too, he forged on with a grim determination.
He was rewarded by Crosshair pawing at him, seeming intent on touching whatever amount of Hunter’s skin he could from his position. Between moans, he chanted, “You ride me so well—yeah—oh, hells—”
When Crosshair leaned up again, he tangled his hand in Hunter’s hair. The moment he began to tug on it, Hunter’s entire body started to tingle. Crosshair’s grip made him arch his back, and his legs wobbled precariously.
Crosshair set his other hand on Hunter’s side and began to help him, thrusting up into him and building up to a relentless pace that made Hunter cry out in ecstasy.
As he was bounced on Crosshair’s cock, his own slapped between his legs, so sensitive from the stalled release that even the drag of air felt pleasurable. Panting, Hunter spat into his palm and dazedly reached for it, shuddering in relief at the feeling of his hand curled around himself. Just that touch, coupled with Crosshair continuing to pound into him, made him double over.
But just as he felt like he was about to finally approach that long-sought cliff, Crosshair paused his movements and let go of Hunter’s hair with a yank that made his head start buzzing again. He reached for Hunter’s arms instead, restraining them behind his back as he chided, “Come on, hands off. Don’t give up now.”
Being denied his release yet again made Hunter whimper, his chest heaving. With one hand keeping a hold on Hunter’s wrists, Crosshair resumed his thrusts. Hunter shuddered, his entire body feeling unbearably sensitive. Each slam of Crosshair’s hips seemed to herald Hunter being split in two. And the way Crosshair’s fingers dug into his flesh—guiding him, restraining him, using him—made him feel entirely subsumed. The only thing holding himself back was his increasingly fraying self control.
Crosshair didn’t seem to be doing any better. He gasped, “Kark, I’m going to—“
Snapping his hips and squeezing his wrists, Crosshair pulsed inside Hunter, moaning luridly. The sensation of being filled with even more of Crosshair’s seed made a desperate heat flare within Hunter. Whining, he rocked his hips through Crosshair’s aftershocks and swayed, overcome and oversensitive, yet still hungering for more.
“That’s not very fair, is it?” he complained.
Crosshair chuckled and stroked his hands down Hunter’s flank. “You’re doing so well, though. Just a little longer, hm?”
Hunter exhaled. “Fine,” he grumbled. He leaned up to dismount, and winced as spend immediately trickled down his thigh. Crosshair made a punched-out noise.
“Stars, look at you,” Crosshair said, his voice hoarse. He ran his thumb across Hunter’s hole, where a copious amount was continuing to dribble out of him. Hunter whined at the sting of it.
It escalated into a surprised cry when Crosshair hauled him onto his back and shoved his legs up, practically folding him in half, before leaning down and tasting him between his legs. Hunter moaned at the sudden shock of Crosshair’s tongue lapping at his hole.
“Hold your legs up for me,” Crosshair said, and Hunter obeyed immediately, feeling shivery and delirious.
Once Crosshair had licked him clean, he buried his face against Hunter’s perineum and then to Hunter’s shock, slipped his tongue inside.
The shocking sensation made Hunter’s brain turn to static. Every part of him seemed to tremble as Crosshair grabbed the swell of his ass and spread him so he could clean him from the inside, too, working his tongue into him and then slurping the come out like he was starving for it.
The array of obscene noises lit Hunter’s face aflame, and his body ignited at not only the sensation of Crosshair’s tongue pressing on the sensitive nerve endings around the inside of his rim but also his entire face pressed against him down there, nudging his prostate and his perineum in a way that made him writhe in ecstasy.
Hunter floated, the blissful buzziness returning. He still felt as if he were about to burst, but it seemed further away now. All he could do was hold on to his legs for dear life, unable to bite back the embarrassing sounds. Every time he called out Crosshair’s name, Crosshair seemed to become even more enthusiastic in eating him out.
Boneless and dazed, Hunter barely registered when Crosshair pulled away with a final, greedy lick and began kissing his inner thighs. Once he had Hunter let go of his legs, he sat astride his supine body and leaned down to kiss his mouth, too.
“Hunter,” he murmured, combing his hair out of his face and making Hunter sigh in pleasure, “can we—can you—”
“Mm?” Hunter asked woozily. He was distracted by the captivating sight of Crosshair leaning over him and bracketing his arms around his head, then by the feeling of his lips latching onto his neck.
“Think it’s almost over,” Crosshair said, his face hidden. “I want to feel you in me again before then. Can I?”
The thought of getting to be inside Crosshair again shook Hunter out of his daze, a new tide of arousal surging within him. He had been prepared to leave those memories at that, to be thoroughly examined the next time he was alone in the bunkroom, but if Crosshair was asking…
There was just one problem. “I’m not going to last long,” he warned. “Which, just as a reminder, is entirely your own fault.”
He felt Crosshair smirk against his skin. “Don’t need long,” he said, dragging Hunter upright so they were sitting together in the center of the bunk. “I just want…”
Once they had studiously slicked each other up, Crosshair crouched over his lap, facing him. Hunter gazed up at him, dazzled all over again by the surreal sight of the man he loved here in his bunk with him; by his mussed hair, his swollen lips, the chafing of stubble upon his skin, the bruises that decorated his neck and torso—all evidence of Hunter having left a mark on him, temporary as it might be.
His heart seized at the reminder of how fleeting this closeness would be. It was all the more important that he drank in every detail while he could.
Gradually, Crosshair sank down onto his cock, groaning with every additional centimeter. As ecstasy washed over Hunter, he squeezed his eyes shut, once again drawing desperately on memories of dull debriefs to stem the tide. The last thing he wanted was for this treasured moment to end preemptively.
“Look at me,” Crosshair rasped when he was fully seated in Hunter’s lap, his legs bracketing him. Hunter was helpless to obey, his breath hitching at how near Crosshair was all of a sudden—his entire body pressed against Hunter’s, their noses practically touching.
His complexion looked healthier now, and the desperate look had left him, although he continued to stare in that way that made Hunter’s face warm, and there was still a heavy emotion in his eyes that Hunter couldn’t define. All he knew was that he liked it—liked having Crosshair’s attention, liked that Crosshair had asked him for this, liked the way Crosshair draped his arms over his shoulders and kissed him.
With a soft moan, Hunter wrapped his arms around Crosshair’s back, holding him even closer, and melted into him.
Then Crosshair began rocking his hips, and Hunter shuddered helplessly. If he hadn’t been denied his orgasms earlier, the slight motions might not have been enough to get him off, but given how sensitive he was at the moment, he was immediately and entirely overwhelmed. It felt as if every part of their bodies was touching, as if they were connected, as if they were one.
Fortunately for him, Crosshair seemed to be in less of a rush than before and content to keep the languid pace. While he moved, he cupped the nape of Hunter’s neck with one hand and ran the other down the rest of his body, as if he were trying to come in contact with every centimeter of him.
Leaning into his touch, Hunter mouthed at Crosshair’s jaw and shamelessly breathed him in. As pleasure warmed him all over in a slow build, he scraped his teeth against Crosshair’s throat and rubbed his fingertips possessively against a cluster of bruises that had bloomed around the dip of his collarbone.
Crosshair shuddered and leaned into his touch, as if asking for more. Curious, Hunter set his hand at the base of his throat, massaging the marked skin gently. Crosshair moaned, and Hunter could feel the vibrations through his skin.
“Harder,” Crosshair demanded as his movements sped up.
The change in pace had Hunter’s pleasure centers going into overdrive, but he did his best not to lose focus. He wanted to give Crosshair everything he asked for.
Watching him carefully, he increased the pressure a little, the sensation of Crosshair’s throat bobbing against his palm strangely enticing. When Crosshair’s expression only grew more excited, Hunter tightened his grasp further. Inspired by Crosshair’s cresting moans, he reached around with his free hand to tug at the short strands of his hair, scraping his fingernails across his scalp. Crosshair whimpered, as if in surrender, his eyes fluttering shut.
When Hunter let go, it took Crosshair a moment before he cracked them open again.
Hunter searched his expression, worried. “Was that okay?” he asked.
“Kark,” Crosshair rasped. He wrapped his arms around Hunter and held him even closer. “That was perfect. You’re perfect.”
Blushing, Hunter ducked his head into the crook of Crosshair’s neck. He reminded himself sternly that just because Crosshair felt like the toxin’s grip on him was fading didn’t mean he was entirely in his right mind. The things he had said earlier, the things he might say now—none of them meant anything; they couldn’t. But kriff, how Hunter ached for them to, how he wished the reverence in Crosshair’s eyes was real, was something he could claim.
Swallowing down his longing, Hunter tried to focus on the moment. To distract himself from the unreadable look in Crosshair’s eyes, he gripped him securely so he could shift onto his knees, giving him more leverage to help thrust. Crosshair went with the motion, setting his feet flat on the bunk.
They worked together, chasing their mutual climaxes, and each time Crosshair sheathed him entirely, sweet, mounting pleasure coursed through Hunter. As their hips collided, their lips met just as eagerly. Pleasure spiraled within Hunter’s belly, leading him to the brink.
“Close?” Crosshair asked.
Hunter narrowed his eyes. “If I say yes, are you going to hop off?”
Crosshair chuckled. “No,” he insisted, “I was about to say we should come together.”
“Oh,” Hunter said weakly, his heart fluttering. “That…that sounds good. Yeah, let’s do that.”
Crosshair’s mouth crooked in amusement. Flustered, Hunter grabbed the tube of bacta gel and squeezed a small amount in his palm before reaching down to grasp Crosshair’s cock and begin tugging at it. Crosshair keened, his movements stuttering.
“Don’t stop now,” Hunter chided, a little of his command voice slipping in, and to his delight, Crosshair inhaled sharply and immediately reapplied himself to riding Hunter. Hunter kissed him fiercely as he did so, squeezing his ass and guiding the movements of his hips.
In the light, Crosshair’s amber eyes appeared to almost shimmer. “Hunter,” he whispered. “Hunter, I…” But whatever he was about to say was swallowed by a desperate moan as Hunter crested his hand over the head of his cock.
The tension in Hunter’s belly, already having built to this point so many times prior, notched higher and higher past the threshold, overwhelming all his senses. When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, Hunter gasped a barely comprehensible, “Come for me,” against Crosshair’s lips.
With that, his own release burst out of him with a force he had never felt before, all the pent-up pleasure that had been denied surging within him at once. His senses overloaded, his vision going white, his hearing dropping away.
Crosshair was shaking apart at the same time, spilling over Hunter’s hand and splattering their chests. He kept rocking his hips as they came down from it, until they were both too sensitive and fell into each other, chests heaving with exertion.
“Stars,” Crosshair breathed.
Hunter made a vague noise of agreement, but he almost had a hard time looking at Crosshair in the aftermath. He wanted to continue holding him, to tug his head into the crook of his neck and breathe him in, to press countless kisses to his forehead.
But that wasn’t why they were here, he reminded himself, his head much clearer post-orgasm. This was just a treatment for Crosshair’s sickness, and Hunter was just a convenient partner. He could be anybody, and it wouldn’t have made a difference. Either way, this intimacy would eventually come to an end.
For the last few hours, he had been allowed to pretend, but all he could do now was relish these last few moments together.
But then Crosshair granted Hunter’s unspoken wish by laying his head on Hunter’s right shoulder. Hunter’s breath hitched, his eyes prickling.
“Good?” he murmured trepidatiously.
“Mm,” Crosshair said. “Extremely.”
The treasured sensation of Crosshair’s breath in the crook of his neck made him feel daring. Hunter pet the crown of Crosshair’s head. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Back to normal, I think,” Crosshair said. “Finally.”
When Hunter glanced down, he saw that Crosshair’s cock had indeed finally flagged, nestled back in the curls between his legs. Even that sight felt unbearably intimate now, like something of a sacred privilege.
He was about to respond, to smile through his sorrow and congratulate Crosshair for defeating the toxin, to maybe make a lighthearted joke to cover up his inappropriate disappointment—but the words wouldn’t come to his tongue.
With a grunt, Crosshair extricated himself from Hunter’s arms. Hunter watched him, dreading what was to come next.
But to his surprise, instead of immediately dressing himself and leaving the room or kicking Hunter out of his bunk, Crosshair simply flopped down onto the bunk with a satisfied noise that Hunter couldn’t help but find cute.
Assuming the exhaustion must have finally hit him, Hunter didn’t expect Crosshair to turn onto his side and wrap his fingers around Hunter’s forearm so he could tug him down beside him.
Hunter went, and his heart swelled when Crosshair reached out to brush his hair out of his face, gently tucking the strands behind his ears. Hunter’s eyes drifted shut at the soothing sensation.
His senses were so dulled by both post-orgasmic bliss and exhaustion that he didn’t register Crosshair shifting closer until he felt his puffs of breath on his cheek. Hunter held his own breath, wondering, wishing.
His wish was granted—Crosshair closed the remaining distance between them. It felt different from all the other kisses they had shared thus far today—soft and chaste, almost delicate.
Hunter’s heart squeezed with the knowledge that this would be the last time he would feel Crosshair’s mouth on his own. He committed the treasured sensations to memory, all too aware that he would be turning them over in his head again and again in the future.
The moment Crosshair pulled away, Hunter’s stomach lurched with a desperate sense of longing.
But Crosshair didn’t go far, instead pressing their foreheads together.
“I’m glad it was you,” he said, and Hunter must have been even more tired than he thought, because Crosshair appeared to be smiling. Not mischievously, or nefariously. He looked…affectionate. Tender. Happy, almost.
It was like looking right at three primary suns at once. It must have just been an aftereffect of the toxin—the endorphins from all those orgasms catching up with him at once—but Hunter’s heart squeezed all the same.
“My pleasure,” Hunter answered belatedly, then blushed when his brain caught up to his mouth. “Or, uh, I mean, no problem.”
Crosshair grinned crookedly. “Was it now?”
And then he wrapped his arm around Hunter and leaned his cheek on his chest. The warm, comforting weight had Hunter’s heart wobbling in his chest.
Feeling fragile, he ventured to drape his arm around Crosshair’s back, part of him still waiting for the moment when Crosshair would kick him out of the bunk.
But before it happened, Crosshair’s breaths evened out, his face still pressed against Hunter’s breastbone and hair tickling Hunter’s chin.
Hunter meant to leave and let him rest properly, but he was so tired, and holding Crosshair like this felt so calming. He would just close his eyes for a minute, then he would leave. Crosshair seemed already deep in sleep anyway, and as long as Hunter managed to wake up before he did, then Crosshair wouldn’t have to know that Hunter had lingered here a moment longer than he should have, right?
Even though he knew it was inappropriate, now that he no longer had the excuse of the toxin for his closeness, for his gluttony, Hunter just wanted to keep enjoying this while he could get away with it.
To pretend for just a little while longer.
The next time Hunter opened his eyes, he found himself lying on his side and ensconced in a warm embrace. On the back of his neck, he could feel soft, even puffs of breath. Wreathed around him was Crosshair’s scent, the familiar weave of salt and musk that always made his shoulders ease.
For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming. As the memories poured back into him, he closed his eyes again, yearning to retreat to his imagination, to a world where this was something he could experience every day.
But guilt made his heart clench. He’d taken advantage of Crosshair and the situation enough.
And suddenly he knew that if Crosshair woke up and pulled away from him—or worse, expressed his revulsion about what had transpired between them—it would break his heart. He wanted nothing more than to remain in the fantasy, but if he couldn’t, then he didn’t want the cherished memory to be tainted by Crosshair’s disgust, rightful as it would be.
Swallowing down the dread and wistful longing, Hunter pried Crosshair’s surprisingly tight grip off him. It was a testament to how exhausted Crosshair must be that he didn’t snap awake, instead only making a soft noise that Hunter did everything not to interpret as disappointment.
Even after he managed to climb out of the bunk and into his blacks and then his kit, his own limbs feeling leaden and reluctant, he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. He took advantage of the rare opportunity to observe Crosshair in this state and memorize every centimeter of him—his skin bared, his hair tousled, his cheeks raw from Hunter’s stubble, his neck and collarbone and thighs covered in the marks Hunter had given him, and most precious of all, his face looking surprisingly peaceful.
Hunter wished he could see Crosshair like this all the time. He couldn’t resist: He leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. A parting kiss.
When he stepped through the threshold of the bunkroom, he exhaled, his shoulders sagging. The doors slid shut, and Hunter left the memories of the best day of his life behind him.
Crosshair didn’t exit the room for hours.
The next time Hunter saw him, Crosshair was fully dressed in his armor again. For a second, Hunter’s mind couldn’t reconcile this Crosshair—whom he’d grown up with, whom he’d fought alongside on the battlefield—with the one who he’d spent hours taking apart, who’d begged to be touched by him, who he’d let use him until he was entirely incoherent.
Hunter glanced away quickly, face growing hot at the memories. He had sworn to himself that he would leave his longing behind, that he wouldn’t let what had happened affect their squad’s performance or his relationship with Crosshair. He had to get a grip on himself, for both their sakes.
But he didn’t manage to keep his eyes averted for long. Mere minutes later, he caught his gaze sliding off the navicomputer screen and back toward Crosshair, who was being examined by Tech in the cockpit.
Crosshair was staring down at his own lap, where his hands were balled into fists. Upon his face was a horrible blankness, his mouth pressed into a tight, miserable line.
Hunter looked away again, his thoughts racing. Was Crosshair in pain? Had the flushing of the toxin left him with other symptoms of illness? Or had the memories of what had transpired between them caught up to him?
Was it Hunter’s fault that he looked so unhappy?
Once Tech dismissed him, with an admonishment to get some more rest, Crosshair stormed his way to the back of the ship, a bundle of ration sticks in hand. As he approached, Hunter opened his mouth to ask how he was feeling, but the way Crosshair didn’t even glance at him as he brushed past made Hunter snap his jaw shut.
Dread coiled in his belly. It wasn’t pain, then. Crosshair was angry with him. Had he figured out Hunter’s feelings and felt betrayed to know that Hunter took advantage of him?
It was Hunter’s worst fear. Regret seized him, making his throat tight and his fingers twitch in anxiety. He yearned to do something, to make things right. But he also knew from years of experience that if he went to talk to Crosshair now, they would only end up in an explosive fight.
Maybe they both just needed some time to cool down. Maybe in time, they would move past this incident and things would go back to normal.
Bowing his head, Hunter clenched his hands into miserable fists. They had to.
The next three days were miserable.
Crosshair still refused to look at Hunter, and the moment he stepped into a room, Crosshair would slip out. He even traded shifts with Wrecker and Echo so that Hunter was never in the bunkroom while he was sleeping. Before, they had used to take shifts together, which meant their off time overlapped and they could perform the upkeep for their blasters and kits together, discussing upcoming missions or insights from their latest ones, or just talk about whatever came to mind.
The loss of that time together made Hunter’s heart hurt, and his worry only deepened. Was Crosshair afraid of him? Did he fear Hunter would try to take advantage of him while he was sleeping? The thought alone made his stomach roil.
What had he done?
He should never have volunteered to help Crosshair in the first place. He had wanted so badly to be the one to take care of him, to touch and be touched by him, but it had been irresponsible, inappropriate, and indecent.
They would have found some other way. Hunter had been so jealous of Crosshair reacting to Tech, but Tech would have been cursory and clinical about it, like Hunter should have been. It would have been less humiliating for Crosshair. And surely Wrecker or Echo would have treated Crosshair well without introducing unwanted feelings into it. They wouldn’t have left Crosshair feeling used—wouldn’t have repulsed him the way Hunter clearly had.
Even worse, some part of Hunter had hoped that by sating even a fraction of his desire, the longing might loosen its grip on him. That he might be able to stop his eyes from wandering during debriefs, to stop waking up grinding into his bunk, the gauzy memory of Crosshair beneath him growing fainter as he was dragged into wakefulness.
Instead, the opposite seemed to have happened. Now that he’d had a taste of what he had wanted for so long, Hunter was all the more hungry. And knowing that his desire was not only unrequited but that Crosshair was revolted by his feelings, to the point that he couldn’t even bear to look at him, made Hunter feel doubly worse.
On the fourth day, they reached their destination and disembarked from the ship for a mission to support the 212th’s Ghost Company, and Hunter did his best to put aside his anxieties and focus on the task at hand. His squad needed him, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
Still, he couldn't help but worry about the awkwardness between him and Crosshair affecting the squad’s performance.
While they were out on the field, however, Crosshair was the perfect soldier. He followed Hunter’s orders without complaint, and though he was less playful over the comm than usual, Hunter was relieved. Maybe slipping into their roles on the battlefield made Crosshair feel more surefooted.
Either way, now everything could go back to the way it had been. It wasn’t what Hunter truly wanted, but anything would be better than being ignored by Crosshair.
To his dismay, the moment they returned to the Marauder, Crosshair walked right past Hunter, not even sparing him a glance.
Hunter exhaled, his lungs squeezing. His regret was all consuming. He had been so happy to be able to experience being with Crosshair, to have a taste of a reality that would never be—but now he wished desperately that he could go back.
He shouldn’t have done it. Pretending that Crosshair returned his feelings, feeling gleeful that he had gotten what he had wanted for so long—it was wrong. It was unbecoming of a leader, unbecoming of a brother.
Of course Crosshair had seen through him. Of course he hated him for using him in that way. Of course he saw right through Hunter’s depravity.
At the time, it had felt like a remarkable gift had landed in his lap—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to live out his clandestine dreams.
And now Hunter was paying the price.
With a sigh, Hunter flopped onto his back, the thin regulation-issue blanket twisting further around his legs. His shift had ended an hour ago, but he had spent the time since tossing and turning in his bunk.
He couldn’t fall asleep without the sound of Crosshair’s even breathing in the bunk below him—without knowing if Crosshair was planning on avoiding him for the rest of their lives.
He couldn’t even criticize him, couldn’t channel his distress into anger and start one of their infamous fights, because Crosshair hadn’t technically done anything wrong. He had hit all his targets and followed all of Hunter’s orders.
Unhelpfully, Hunter’s mind flashed back to Crosshair on his knees, obeying him even as his legs trembled, and he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, misery clawing at him.
The only thing that had really changed between them was that Crosshair had stopped spending time with him, bantering with him, paying attention to him. Hunter hadn’t even realized how often Crosshair looked his way until he had stopped doing it.
It was what Hunter deserved, but how he ached, missing Crosshair horribly.
He didn’t think he could do this anymore.
Giving up, he climbed out of his bunk. He had to swallow his pride and do whatever it took to put an end to this.
He found Crosshair sitting at the navicomputer, but he wasn’t looking at the screen. Instead, he had propped his elbows on the console and hunched over, his shoulders scrunched and hands over his face. His hair was tousled, as if he had been running his fingers through it in agitation. Hunter listened to his ragged breathing, worried about whatever it was that had Crosshair so worked up. He frowned. He could smell blood.
“You’re injured,” he said. “What happened?”
At the sound of his voice, Crosshair jolted, a look of panic briefly flashing across his face. Without looking Hunter’s way, he got to his feet and tried to sidle past him.
Hunter blocked his way, and Crosshair’s downcast features warped into irritation. It made Hunter breathe a little easier. Crosshair’s irritation was something familiar, something he knew how to handle.
“Get out of my way,” Crosshair said, a dangerous edge to his voice.
“You can’t keep avoiding me, Crosshair.”
Crosshair gave him a petulant look that spoke volumes.
Hunter half-expected Crosshair to just shove him out of the way, but he didn’t move, his jaw set. Hunter sighed. “If you got hurt, why didn’t you report it in?” he demanded. “I wouldn’t have sent you to that rooftop position if I’d known.”
“Oh, so now you care?” Crosshair snapped.
Hunter blinked at him. Was Crosshair implying… His heart clenched at the thought.
“Of course I care about you,” Hunter said earnestly.
That earned him a vicious sneer from Crosshair. “Sure you do,” he said, crossing his arms. “Anyway, it’s fine. You couldn’t have made it out if I hadn’t been there.”
“We would have found a way,” Hunter insisted. “Let me see?” He reached for the latches on Crosshair’s pauldron.
“Don’t touch me,” Crosshair hissed, yanking his shoulder away.
Hunter reeled back, guilt lashing through him. He bowed his head. This wasn’t how he had wanted to go about this conversation. Though he dreaded the annoyance in Crosshair’s expression warping into disgust, he couldn’t hold back the words he needed to say any longer.
“Look, Crosshair—I owe you an apology,” Hunter said. “I’m so sorry. I took advantage of you. I was selfish. There's no excuse for what I did, and I understand if you can’t forgive me. But we can’t go on like this.”
Crosshair stared at him. “You’re sorry?” he repeated, sounding as if it were the most shocking thing he had ever heard.
Hunter flinched. Was the thought of him apologizing truly so unexpected? “Of course I am,” he said gravely. “You have to believe me. I know I’ve been a terrible leader. If you would like to submit a complaint to High Command, I won't stop you.”
“What the kriff are you saying?” Crosshair demanded. “What’s all this banthashit?”
Hunter sagged, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I know it’s too little, too late, but you have to know how awful I feel,” he said, even as he felt his eyes prickle. “We have no choice but to work together on the battlefield, of course, but outside of that, I won’t bother you—if that’s what you want.”
“Hold on. Stop. Shut up.” Crosshair’s brow furrowed. “What do you think happened that day?”
Hunter blinked at him. “What do you mean?” he asked. Did Crosshair wish to humiliate him? “I took advantage of you, obviously. It was horribly inappropriate. And I know you’ve been avoiding me because you’re disgusted by my actions. Rightfully so.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
Hunter gave him a skeptical look, and Crosshair huffed. “Even if I have,” he grumbled, “that’s not why.”
Hunter frowned. “It’s not? Then…why?”
“And stow the self-loathing,” Crosshair said. “You didn’t take advantage of me.”
“Yes, I did,” Hunter insisted. “You weren’t in your right mind, but I was. You can’t deny that.”
“Believe me, you didn’t.”
“How can you say that?” Hunter exclaimed. “What I did was wrong, Crosshair. There’s no excuse.”
“What you did was give me what I’ve wanted for years.” Crosshair’s jaw clenched. “At least, that’s what I thought you were doing.”
Hunter stared at him. Crosshair’s words didn’t make any sense. “What are you talking about?”
Crosshair pursed his lips. “You really don’t know?”
Hunter pinched his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Know what?”
“What about all those things I said?” Crosshair demanded.
Hunter frowned, struggling to follow Crosshair’s line of thought. “What things?”
“All the…” Crosshair looked away, his face reddening. “You know, the…compliments.”
“Oh,” Hunter said, thinking back. He supposed Crosshair had said a surprising number of nice things to him while their bodies had been tangled together. In his defense, he had been a tad distracted by the entangling. “I thought that was just the toxin talking.”
“Why would the toxin—“ Crosshair groaned. “You idiot. I wanted you. For real. Stars help me, I still do.”
Hunter stared at him. He could barely process what Crosshair was saying. “You do? So you…you want to keep doing it?” His heart rate spiked at the thought. “Blow off some steam together?”
“No!” Crosshair burst out, and Hunter deflated. “I don’t want that. It’s not…” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Blast it,” he mumbled. “I’m in love with you, you moron. Kark knows why.”
Hunter’s heart began thundering in his ears. “What did you say?” he whispered.
Crosshair lifted his head and fixed him with a glare. “You heard me,” he growled. “On that day, I realized you felt the same way—or at least I thought you did. I thought we were finally going to be…” He averted his eyes again. “But when I woke up, you were gone.” The bob of his throat wavered. “I assumed you were telling me I was wrong. That it had been nothing more than a duty to you.”
Hunter stared at him, feeling lightheaded. Was this really happening? Was he still back in his bunk, dreaming of something so impossible? It couldn’t… Crosshair had never shown any signs of…
Memories flashed before his eyes, a new perspective dawning on him: Crosshair asking for a change to his shift schedule early in their deployment, which Hunter had happily approved, as it had left them with more off time together. Crosshair verbally eviscerating the regs who taunted or scorned Hunter, luring them into violent fistfights; he was overprotective of all of them, but those brawls over Hunter’s honor had always been particularly bloody.
Crosshair shooing Tech away and carefully bandaging Hunter’s wounds himself, lecturing him about not being more careful the entire time. Crosshair constantly asking Hunter to spar but never seeming to put much effort into winning the matches. Crosshair sitting close enough that their elbows bumped as they patched up their armor. Crosshair perching his elbows on the back of the navicomputer chair where Hunter was stationed and watching him silently, his toothpick working.
“You weren’t wrong,” Hunter blurted out, and Crosshair’s eyes widened.
“I wasn’t?” he croaked.
Summoning his courage, Hunter lifted a trembling hand to Crosshair’s jaw. “Not in the least,” he said softly.
There was a tremulous hope dawning in Crosshair’s eyes, and it was beautiful to see.
“Can I kiss you?” Hunter asked, making sure to give Crosshair the choice this time.
“If you don’t, I’m going to be very annoyed,” Crosshair answered, startling a chuckle out of Hunter.
“And we can’t have that, can we?” he murmured, bringing Crosshair’s face closer.
His expression was warm and affectionate, and tender, too—just like it had been after the toxin’s grip on him had faded.
Hunter’s stomach fluttered at the realization, which was almost too momentous to hold in his mind. That day, Crosshair had looked at him in that way because he loved him. The toxin had been flushed out of his system, and still Crosshair had wanted to hold him close, to kiss him, to fall asleep with him, their naked bodies tangled together. He wanted to do that for real. And Hunter wanted it, too, so badly he could barely stand it.
Eagerly, he closed the distance between them. He kissed Crosshair with everything in him, pouring out his love, his longing, his desire into it, and allowing himself to listen to what Crosshair was saying in return as he deepened the kiss, his hand cupped against the back of Hunter’s neck like he was something precious.
When he opened his eyes, feeling dazed, he was surprised to find Crosshair glaring at him. “What?” he asked, running his thumb across the swell of Crosshair’s bottom lip.
Crosshair’s mouth parted, and drew the tip of Hunter’s thumb into his mouth, sucking on it gently. “How long?” he asked.
“Hm?” Hunter said faintly, his eyes fixed on what Crosshair’s tongue was doing.
Crosshair kissed the tip of his thumb and drew back. “How long have you felt this way?”
Blushing, Hunter thought back. “Since…our eighth year, I guess.”
“On Kamino?!” Crosshair exclaimed.
His surprise made Hunter turn redder. “What about you?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Seventh year,” Crosshair mumbled.
Hunter’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Are you serious?” He ran through every memory he had of that time in their lives. Crosshair had been interested in him even before Hunter had fallen for him? How the hells had he never noticed?!
Crosshair dropped his head onto Hunter’s pauldron with a groan. “So we could have been doing this for years,” he growled. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t think you would ever look at me that way,” Hunter admitted, petting Crosshair’s hair. “And even if I had, I wouldn’t want to risk losing what we already had. You mean too much to me.”
“Hm,” Crosshair said, circling Hunter’s waist with his arms and squeezing him gently. “I suppose you’re excused, in that case.”
“Oh, am I?” Hunter replied, tweaking Crosshair’s earlobe. “You know, you never actually told me how you felt either.”
“I thought I made it obvious,” Crosshair muttered.
Hunter shook his head, helplessly charmed. “You call that obvious?” he teased.
“So we were both idiots,” Crosshair grumbled.
“I think that’s safe to say,” Hunter said, chuckling. He leaned in close to Crosshair’s ear. “You know what else I’d say, though?” he murmured.
Crosshair’s breath hitched. “Hm?”
“If we have years to make up for, then we’d better get started right away.”
At that, Crosshair shot back upright, smirking, and Hunter’s heart fluttered at the overt desire in his gaze as he raked his eyes over Hunter’s face—though it was familiar after that fateful day, it felt even better to receive it now, when Hunter knew Crosshair wasn’t intoxicated, when he knew his feelings were genuine.
Their first day together had only been the beginning. Hunter would spend the next month, the next year, their whole lifetimes, proving to Crosshair that his feelings were returned, if that was what it took. His greatest wish coming true was a gift he would never take for granted.
“Excellent idea,” Crosshair murmured, pressing their foreheads together sweetly even as his greedy hands slid unmistakably downward. “Where should we start?”