The desk was cool beneath James’s back, a stark contrast to the heat lingering between them. Their bodies were tangled, slick with sweat and faint traces of salt from the sea air that filtered through the cracked window. The scent of sex hung heavy—sharp, musky, unmistakable.
Leo lay beside him, propped on one elbow, his fingers lazily tracing the dip of James’s hipbone. His chest rose and fell in deep, slow breaths, still recovering. James watched him through half-lidded eyes, his own body humming with the sharp, lingering edge of release.
“You alright?” Leo asked, his voice low, husky from exertion and satisfaction.
James gave a soft huff of breath, his lips curled in a crooked smile. “I’m better than alright.”
Leo smirked, brushing sweat-damp hair from James’s forehead. “You fuck like you’ve been starving.”
James didn’t reply right away. He turned his head, watching Leo’s chest—broad and solid, lightly dusted with hair that led down in a tempting trail. His skin still glowed with the flush of orgasm, and yet there was something hungry in his eyes again already.
“Maybe I have been,” James murmured, letting the words hang in the thick air between them.
Silence stretched for a moment. Outside, the base was quiet, the rest of the ship still and dark. Inside, the only sound was their breathing and the faint creak of the desk beneath them.
Leo leaned down and kissed him—slow, open-mouthed, tongues sliding together with a renewed hunger. James responded without hesitation, his hand curling behind Leo’s neck, pulling him deeper into it.
They didn’t speak again.
Leo moved down James’s body, mouthing over his chest, his stomach, teeth grazing lightly. James’s cock twitched, already hardening again under the touch, under the heat building back between them.
“Fuck, you don’t take long to reload,” Leo muttered, grinning against James’s skin.
James let out a low groan. “Neither do you.”
Leo’s hand wrapped around him, stroking slowly, deliberately, teasing. James’s hips lifted in response, seeking more. His fingers tangled in Leo’s hair as Leo slid lower, lips brushing the head before taking him in.
Leo’s mouth was hot and wet, his rhythm unhurried. He sucked James with steady, expert ease, tongue flicking and swirling, one hand holding James’s hip in place as he began to grind against the leg pressed between them.
James cursed under his breath, hips jerking. “Leo—fuck, that’s—”
Leo pulled off, mouth glistening, eyes wicked. “You want it again?”
James nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah. Now.”
Leo didn’t need more. He stood briefly to grab the small tube of lube from his pack on the desk—standard issue, ironically—and slicked himself quickly. James turned over, bracing himself with his elbows on the desk, head bowed.
Leo stepped in behind him, one hand steadying James’s hip, the other guiding himself back to where they’d just been. He slid in slow, the burn familiar now, but no less intense. James let out a low, guttural moan, fingers curling around the edge of the desk.
Once buried, Leo stilled, both of them savoring the sensation.
Then he began to move.
This time was rougher—less restraint, more urgency. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, each thrust hitting deep and sharp. Leo gripped James’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, dragging him back into each push. Sweat rolled down his back, muscles straining, chest heaving.
James could only take it—eyes closed, mouth open in moans and curses, cock aching with pressure.
Leo leaned forward, biting James’s shoulder, the rhythm relentless now. “You take it so fucking well.”
James growled, pressing back harder. “Then don’t stop.”
Leo didn’t. He fucked him deep and hard, the room rocking with their rhythm, the desk groaning beneath them. James reached down and stroked himself in time, moaning louder, feeling the second climax rise fast and brutal.
It hit him like a jolt—his whole body tensed, hot ropes spilling across the desk as he cried out, shaking with release.
Leo followed seconds later, hips snapping forward, burying himself deep one final time as his orgasm ripped through him. He collapsed against James, chest to back, panting, every muscle trembling.
They stood like that, locked, sweating, still joined—until the aftershocks faded.
Leo finally pulled out, breath ragged. “That was... dangerous.”
James turned, eyes meeting his. “And fucking worth it.”
Neither of them mentioned that in less than twelve hours, they’d both be on leave. That this night might not be repeated. That it probably shouldn’t have happened at all.
But the room was warm, their bodies were satisfied, and for now, they didn’t care. |
