Respite - M4A (Patreon)

“Close that goddamn door!!!” Victor crashes through a pile of overturned tables and dining carts, clearing the way for you to get to the control panel. Your fingers dance across the holopad, driven by the echoing footfalls from the pitch black hallway. You wince as you hear the sergeant tackled by one of the metal horde. They roll about on the floor, Victor trying to grapple the shrieking steel beast as it wails on him with its arms. The panel beeps and you finish just in time to see your drop partner lift the android, fall back, and slam it under the closing door, the weight crushing its torso in a spray of oil and sparks. It twitches, then falls silent as the swarm outside collectively begin to hammer on the ultrasteel shutter, a machine gun of impacts vibrating the room.

“Try the back. Gotta be another way out. Service hallway or something.” Your boots thunder across the smooth tile floor, lifting you over the countertop in one giant leap. Scattering cans and dishware, you reach out to the handle… and you notice the door is welded shut. Victor darts about, joining you in the search, but you don’t see any other doors. Naturally the station has no windows either, being 3 miles underground.

“Fuck… well this is just great... Thank fuck for Drop Force intel.” Beads of sweat trail down his forehead, his fingers trailing over his head to tug at the bun of hair in back. You grab your laptop from your pack and flip it open. The schematics for the building show no other available route in or out. His eyes meet yours and you know… you’re stuck.

Fuck.

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The laptop glows dimly, the screen shifting and rearranging before you in a wave of static. No signal. No way to reach anyone. Useless garbage like everything else the drop force provides you with. You groan and shut the laptop, tossing it to the side in frustration. Victor’s head jerks up as it clatters across the floor, his eyes blinking open. You never understood how he could sleep in the field.

“Nothing?” You rub your eyes, stressed from the thought of having to answer the obvious. It’s gotten quiet. Your motion tracker hasn’t caught anything outside the door in a couple hours, and your EM scanner is too fried to tell you anything you don’t already know. Like that you’re completely and utterly alone. The recovery team was scheduled to fly in 12 hours after your recon began, but with that sea of metal and claws they won’t last 12 minutes. Recon. What a joke. They had to know this station was fucked, and you two got dropped in anyway. Admiral Luther’s head wasn’t gonna be the only thing up his own ass if you ever get off this asteroid.

“Heh… yeah he’s a freak. That’d be nicer than he deserves.” You twitch, reminded once again that the man sitting a few feet away from you might as well be inside your head. Psychs. What kind of universe is this that not even your own thoughts are private…

“… sorry. You know I can’t control it…” A handwave tells him that you’re sorry, but he can feel the unease that flows through you. He groans and sits up, a hand that rested throughout his catnap on the grip of his pistol, now once again tugging at that knot of hair. Wrestling your subsistence case from your back, you pull out a packet of quickoffee and offer it to him. Victor nods his thanks and downs the bitter drink. As he drinks you stutter a question about his "ability."

"Ability? That makes it sound like something I DO, rather than something I AM. Which... if I'm being honest is a refreshing thought given how the rest of the drop force treats us." Idle fingers brush the stubble on his face, guiding his thoughts from one place to another. "Well... to be honest, that assessment probably isn't that far off. It's like... my head is open, and other people's thoughts spill over into mine. It's been that way my whole life. Hearing how scared of me my own parents were. Hearing how gross and "freakish" everyone thought I was. Hearing people's weird hidden obsessions and neuroses. It's exhausting, really. I'm lucky I'm one of the clean ones. I didn't have to learn how to filter so I could hear my own thoughts over the ocean of everyone else. I just, do."

You relax in your spot on the floor, fetching a packet of Nutrit for the both of you. Victor smiles and continues. "It's nice sometimes, being able to know who means you harm, and who tolerates you. Makes it so much quicker to get through any situation. Don't have to fuck around with everyone and their... I don't even know what to call it. I'm sure some Psychs would love to just live a perfect little naive life muddling through the fakery and bullshit. But not me."

Victor raises his arms above his head, stretching out the knots and aches from laying on this shitty floor. "Fuck... well, we're gonna be here a while. Might as well relax." Leaping to his feet, Victor paces to the other side of the dining hall and back looking about. After apparently finding a good spot, he presses the release on his suit and dumps his pack on the floor. Not satisfied with the lighter load, he slowly releases the clasps on his suit, and lets it too drop to his ankles.

Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened, his nude form before you shining slick with sweat in the faded lighting. Drop force troopers aren't exactly modest, but the urge to avert your eyes still pulls at the back of your mind. You watch with hesitation as he bends down, grabbing the back of his calves with each hand, folding himself in half in a deft show of flexibility. Pose after pose, Victor slowly shifts through a series of yoga exercises, clearly a regular practice for him given the ease with which he flows between shapes. His glistening skin contorting into all sorts of angles and forms, you can't help but take in every inch of him. He's beautiful.

Taut muscle outlines his otherwise slender body, proving years of training and exercise to frame his time in academy and Psych reeducation. You wonder how it would feel to-

"You ever do any yoga?" You nearly jump at the sound of his voice from across the room. No, closer. Maybe all around you. Inside you. He never turns to look at you as he twists into a new pose. "I'll take that silence to mean you're stressed as fuck too." If he can feel your thoughts he should know exactly what you've been thinking- "Yes, I can. Just giving you a taste of what it's like to know, and yet have to deal with the "game" of socializing. Haha... I... I'm sorry. That's really crass of me. I know you mean no ill will. You're just... you're fun, your thoughts. They're so interesting to listen to. It's cool to hear someone think of me as not some creature outside your own species... but another person. Just with... some quirks, I guess." You clear your throat and stand up, leaving your pack behind as you slowly move to join him across the room.

"No pressure. I'm just trying to... ya know... kill some of this stress. While I've got the time. Figure maybe you could do the same-" This time you're the one to cut him off mid-thought, the ruffle of your dropsuit hitting the floor somehow catching him by surprise. You smile at the sight of him nearly toppling from a precarious position. Victor's eyes sparkle lightly in the shadows of this corner of the hall, then dart to the motion tracker. You reassure him that you'll know before anything gets even close.

"Well, if that's the case then I suppose we can be a bit more thorough in our stretches." You can almost feel him probing for a response in your head, and hear his breath catch in response to the images you present for him. You glance down and see his cock twitch as well, smiling as he bites his lip at your teasing.

"Oh..." You step closer, trying not to laugh as he quickly exits his pose to stand tall and not-so-secretly puff out his chest a bit. You grab his cock, broadcasting loud and clear how much you're enjoying having him on edge now in turn. Victor moans softly as you push him against the wall, your body meeting his, holding him tight against you and even tighter in your hand. Your fingers slowly glide along his length, and you wish you could hear him drowning in the thoughts you send his way. If he wants to play, you're really gonna play...

"Fuck... you're... REALLY "stressed," aren't you?" He chuckles playfully before losing his bravado completely as your teeth catch the flesh of his neck. "Holy shit..." His cock throbs again and again, his balls tightening as your hand slides faster and faster from base to tip. 

"Hey now... we've got time... no need to... rush." Victor smiles, some of that courage burning again in his eyes, and giving strength enough for him to spin you around and press you against the wall, holding the hand that was nearly ruining him behind your back. "Much better... now... it's time we help YOU get rid of some of that stress... This is a pretty good position for it, don't you think?" His lips trail kisses along your shoulder and up your neck to your earlobe which nibbles gently, his teeth sending shivers down your entire body. "Mmm... don't deny it. You can lie with your mouth, but you'll tell me the truth regardless..." 

You press back against him, grinding into his thick cock and sending more devious thoughts his way. His teeth sink into your neck, growling quietly against your skin. Even without being able to read his mind it's obvious he wants to get revenge for how weak you made him feel in your hands. His hands grip you so hard, squeezing and groping all over your body. He moans as one hand slips down your chest, your stomach, your pelvis... Relishing in the groan you let out as he teases you with his fingertips... Your hips move forward to push against his hand and he rolls his own forward with you, his cock slipping between your thighs and rubbing against you. 

A stray thought slaps him in the face and you can practically hear him grin behind you. "Oh... yeah...?" Victor begins slowly moving, his pelvis gently pressing against your ass as his cock slides back and forth between your thighs. The head, so hard and smooth, the veiny length, the entire member grinds against you as his hand begins working, fingers circling and rubbing in tandem with his cock. Looking down, you can see the head popping out between your thighs, throbbing dangerously. You squeeze your legs together, giving him as much pressure to thrust into as you can, drawing fresh moans into your ear. 

"Do you want to make me cum...? Hmm?" You smile, sending waves of filthy thoughts his way to push him over the edge. "Oh no... that's not gonna be enough, baby... No... I need to hear you say it... Tell me... you want to make me cum... you want to look down, watch my cock throbbing and pulsing... and see me spill my load down your thighs... Mmm... Say it... I can hear you thinking it... over and over and over... but I want you to SAY it. You feel him slowing, threatening to stop driving you to the edge with him. 

Groaning your loss, you give him what he wants. He sinks his teeth into your neck once more, growling lustily as he thrusts faster and faster, fingers working mercilessly to bring you with him. He shudders against you, his cock throbbing in rhythm, splattering your thighs and groin with his sticky seed as you cum on his cock, making a mess together. Your moans echo against the wall, filling your ears as much as your ecstasy surely fill his head. Your neck aches in his bite, stinging so good as he slowly releases you. 

"Oh... easy... easy..." Victor chuckles as he catches your shivering body, and eases you onto a table nearby. "Sit... that's it... Catch your breath..." He smiles, reaching down to your subsistence pack and grabbing a couple more packs of Nutrit to hydrate you both. You down yours quickly, tossing the empty packet aside and collapsing on the table. 

"Damn..." Damn is right. His cocky smile sickens you, but you relish in it anyways. He's good and he knows it. "Yes I do. But I won't say anything more to annoy you while you're resting up." You chuckle with him this time, reaching over to spank him as he turns to grab some wipes from another table. 

"Hey! Uh... hey... is that, supposed to do that?" You glance over expecting yet another joke, and see the laptop glowing brightly. An incoming call. The two of you trip over each other, hurriedly slipping back into your dropsuits and rushing over to answer. You tap the screen, composing yourself to greet your commander.

"What the fuck is going on down there? You'd better be dead or deaf if you're taking that long to answer." Admiral Luther's mustache bristles on the screen, nearly taking up the whole holographic image. An image of you shoving his head where the sun doesn't shine flashes through your mind and you see Victor pull away to keep from being seen laughing. 

"We got word from the other Recon team that shit is fucked as fuck there.  Recovery has landed and is ready to pick up any survivors. Get to the spacedock and get the fuck out of there. This is your only warning. Luther out." The screen darkens as you smack Victor on the back of the head. 

"I told you I can't help it! Hey... you can hit me, and anything else you want to do to me, AFTER we get to that ship." The two of you hurry to the door, and though you want to slap the back of his head again, you know he can hear what you're really thinking of doing...