Written for the Porn Battle XV, prompt words: dinner, adrenaline, sweet, poetry
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here's to a promise I can keep
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It takes just a little over a week for Grey to get the Master Sergeant into bed.
It started with dinner, takeout in front of the television that never got to dessert because he's already got him pressed into the worn couch. Charles has his knees on each side of Mack's hips, the man lying stretched out along the length and there is barely enough room. But that only makes sure the two of them are touching in every way they have to and then some more.
"You ever done this before?" Charles asks, a challenge in his voice, condom held in place between his teeth even as he struggles with his belt. All the while, his other hand is reaching for the lube somewhere over Mack's head.
Mack just chuckles, bats Charles' hands away to replace it with his own. His hands are larger, warmer, but the callouses are almost identical when he wraps a hand around the cock he pulls free, pushing the waistband of Charles' pants and briefs lower with the motion.
"Here and there, Carlito." Mack replies with a grin as Charles makes a low appreciative noise in the back of his throat, hips stuttering as he fucks into the fist before he can reply, "Anyone I know?"
"…Promise you won't get jealous?" Mack tries something low, something rough, something he wouldn't try with the ladies and least of all his own teammate. Looking up at the man straddling him from beneath his lashes though, he catches that tug of a half smirk and the hard length in his hand.
"I think I can manage."
And Grey punctuates that sentence falling off of his tongue by leaning down to give him a filthy kiss. He doesn't treat him like the women he loves, and he doesn't treat him as the woman he loves.
Mack murmurs a name against his mouth as promised, and there is a sharp bark of laughter that has nothing to do with surprise at the mention of another man as they plan to fuck.
There is still an amused edge to Charles' grin as he drops the lube on Mack's chest and goes about pulling off of the rest of his clothes. It's not a show but Mack looks at him like it's one, his hands undoing the button of his pants and dragging the zipper down before he pulls himself out.
Mack imagines that the two of them will be volatile in bed, less like him and Tiffy, and more like the thrum of adrenaline when Charles cut that last wire and the only thing keeping Mack rooted well within the blast zone is his faith in his team member. (In hindsight, it's a lot. In retrospect, it's the least he can do when Grey is repeating his prayers over the secured comm.)
But it's quite the opposite when he rolls the condom on over Mack's cock, mouth still a curve. And oh, yes, Sergeant First Class Charles Grey is just as vicious in bed as he is on the field, zipper scraping deliciously against his ass as he sinks all the way down.
Vicious but also sweet in the way he could write poetry about him in his head, but doesn't.
XXX Kuro