Bushido-- no, Graham Aker, here-- nodded to himself. "If we cannot duel in our suits, then I will defeat you here, boy!" So saying, he launched himself forward-- or tried to.
Somehow, this world did not obey the laws of physics that he had trained under.
Setsuna watched the man-- he couldn't remember his name, but he'd been the man in Union's old Flag model-- as he floundered around. "You won't defeat me here," Setsuna said, materializing behind the other man.
Graham spun around, shocked-- the boy had gotten too close for comfort. And, more bizarrely... "You-- what are you doing, in here, that you're like that?" He gestured sharply, his hand sweeping in front of the Gundam pilot's half-hard cock, an almost shockingly dark colour in this bright place. It matches my scars, Graham thought, shocked.
Setsuna glanced down at his groin, unconcerned. It was a normal reaction, for him, after being in his Gundam for long periods of time. "You should ask yourself that," he said, reaching out to grip the scarred man's erection, fully hard and straining upwards, already dripping. The man must have been overly stimulated, back in his cockpit. He let go, unconcerned.
"You--" Graham couldn't get anything else out. The boy's grip around his shameful, persistent arousal-- it was everything he'd wanted, and everything he hated about himself. When the terrorist (terrorist, Graham's mind helpfully emphasized, trying to dissuade his cock's interest) released him, he felt cold, where before he'd not noticed any particular temperature about this place.
He wouldn't lose to that-- this boy. He'd waited years for his revenge, and if this is the only place he could get it, he would triumph!
The boy had more experience when it came to this place. Graham had gone through life constantly facing people with more experience than him: as a pilot, as a fighter-- even, in the few times he'd tried it, as a lover-- and he had never let it stop him before. He would not lose. He would regain his honour, and avenge his fallen comrades.
"My blood always flows wildly in a battle," Graham said, voice dark. If this place had no respect for the laws of physics-- he would make his own laws! Tightening his focus, he launched himself forward, a thrill of pleasure going through him as he impacted with the boy.
Setsuna was startled at the other man's move. He jerked backwards, imagining himself somewhere else-- and it didn't work. The other man pressed tight against his front, his hands like steal bands around his biceps. The feeling, as he struggled, reminded him sharply of previous battles-- with that image in mind, he flipped over, breaking the other man's grip.
When they came together again, gravity seemed to have shifted with them-- Setsuna was perked on the other man's thighs, and he grabbed at the swinging wrists before they could damage him.
Graham was seething. Despite his best efforts, the strange non-rules of this world were defeating him. He should have been strong enough to escape this-- this child's grip.
He's like you were, at his age, a voice whispered to him, his own voice. The boy, perched on top of him, jerked, and stared down at him, suddenly intent. Could he hear him?
Graham resumed his struggles, anger giving him strength-- but for nothing. He could do nothing against the powerful grip on his wrists, or against the swelling arousal that squeezed a drop of pre-come from his cock.
Setsuna watched the man's struggles, a calm settling upon him. This is what the double-O for. This was why he had been given it. To reach people, like this man, who he could never reach in the real world.
This man, who would only accept defeat in one way. Adjusting his grip to press the scarred man down into what would have been the ground (and worked just as well, since he wanted it to), he dragged himself forward the few key inches so that their cocks aligned.
"You aren't weak," he said, pushing himself up so that he lay stretched out on top of the other man, flesh pressed together from chest to thighs. "To want this," he thrust his hips down, a rush of heat going through him at the man's grimace.
Graham wouldn't stand for this. Ignoring the boy's words-- really, what did he know about Graham, destiny be damned-- he focused his attention, feeling the world shiver in response around him. His will was his best weapon, here and in the real world.
He let his will burst open, into the glowing world around them. It seemed to pause, thinking, and Graham worried that nothing had changed-- that he really was that weak-- and then the world changed, fading on and then back in, as Graham wanted it.
He had the boy pinned. There was no more "ground", no more gravity-- his attention was taken up with making sure the Gundam pilot stayed where he wanted. "I will show you my strength", he vowed, bending down to bite the bend of shoulder to neck, the taste shockingly real and familiar on his tongue, sweat and skin and blood. His attention faltered, and the boy was--
--facing him? Why would the boy not escape. Why would he just float there, looking at him, his eyes taking on a bizarre golden glow. With a growl, Graham knocked the boys legs apart, gripped himself-- still so fucking hard-- and pushed in.
Setsuna was surprised it didn't hurt. Maybe the man wanted it to-- Setsuna didn't know. He didn't want it to hurt, for once. People taking out their frustrations on him... if this was what it would take, to release the man's pain, he would go along with it. But he didn't have to let it hurt.
With that thought in mind, Setsuna brought his legs up, locking them behind the man's back. It was almost surprising to find himself hard-- he hadn't noticed. "Show it to me, then," he commanded, voice hard. He dragged the other man's face closer, sharing the same breath. "Show me."
With a strangled groan, Graham gave in, fucking into Setsuna with short, hard thrusts. The boy was tight-- wonderfully, gloriously tight around his cock, his body like hot silk, like happiness, likehome, and his arms shook at how ready he felt to come.
He wouldn't, though. Not first. That would be just as bad as losing. He bowed his head, pressed it against the boy's shoulder as he fumbled for the cock resting so tantalizingly against the other pilot's stomach. The boy was hard, now-- fully engorged, and Graham wanted to pull back, to look at the cock that felt so pretty in his hand, so soft, probably tasted even better than the rest of his skin.
His cock jerked inside the boy as he thought about sucking his cock. Shameful, he thought to himself, almost frantic, now. He slammed his hips forward, again, again, rushing towards orgasm despite himself, when the boy gasped, throat working desperately against Graham's shoulder.
Graham drew back, slowly, before rocking his hips forward at just the same angle. The boy moaned, a flush crossing his cheeks, eyes fluttering. This is it, Graham thought, pistoning his cock in slowly, to see the exact moment he hit the boy's prostate.
There-- there. Graham adjusted his stance, lifting the boy higher in his lap, and slammed back inside. A moan, choked off as the boy arched up against him, hands scrambling at his back.
He tightened his hand around the boys cock, beginning a slow jerk, as he started to thrust again. Deeper, with this new angle, and harder, his balls slapping against the boy's ass, the noise strangely loud in this space. His wrist was getting sore, moving rapidly, the way made easier from the pre-ejaculate that was pouring out of the boy's slit, hot and slick and wonderful.
With a twist of his wrist and particularly hard thrust, the boy was coming, his arms tightening around Graham's shoulders until their mouths were pressed together, not so much a kiss as a place to breath his orgasming into. With the boy spasming around his cock, Graham finally gave in, sucking the boy's tongue into his mouth as his eyes rolled, pumping his hips a few last, desperate times, forcing his come as far up as he could reach.
The air around them stilled, and then broke apart.
When Bushido opened his eyes inside his cockpit, he noticed with a frown that he was still hard.