The midmorning mirages dance across the starboard, warping the shoes and ankles of soldiers passing by. You stand at attention, looking over the blazing desert, your gun growing wet with sweat as you clasp it in your hands. Your focus fades away as a rambunctious clattering sounds to your right. Livia drags up a folding chair, and she plops down into it beside you.

"Hey," you say.

You had brought the meeting to her attention, and, knowing Livia, Damien was filled in on the conversation.

"How are you doing?" Livia nods to one of the passing guards as he ambles by, his gaze briefly drawn to both of you.

"Fine."

"Made a decision yet?"

"I have, but I am going to talk to Don first."

Livia crosses her arms and leans back in her seat. The salt-rusted hinges make little pained squeals. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm going to go through with it, but I need to lay some groundwork first."

"Make sure you can leave whenever you want to. Make sure he understands this will not be forever." Livia closes her eyes as her leg bounces up and down. The sunshine reflects off her large forehead, making her skin glow. She slowly shakes her head, her mouth curdling into a frown, before lifting her eyelids again. "I am going to get take out from the mess hall around 8 with Damien. Are you going to come with us?"

"I will if Don lets me."

. . .

A dense, vibrating rumble passes through the door as your knuckles rap against it. The setting sun shines to your right, illuminating the walkways around the ship. His strong breaths make it to your ears even before his hand touches the handle, forcing it open with controlled and proper strength.

"May we speak?" you ask.

Don nods and steps back from the doorway, allowing you to enter his quarters. It is lifeless like yours, the only imperfection a soft indention on his bed where he was previously sitting. Don drags the chair at a desk in the corner up to the bed, and he settles back down, his hands clasping his thighs. His fingers gently rub the fabric of his pants as he watches you sit.

"Before we continue, I want to make a deal with you."

Don cocks his head slightly, his eyes glowing ever so brightly in their dark sockets.

"I will tell you why I am here, and the plans The Machinist and Scarr have for you. But...if I am going to go through with this, I have the following, um, requirements. I want to drop out of this at any time. I won't need to explain myself, and I won't face any repercussions. I also request no outbursts, like what happened on the beach."

His eyes flicker.

"I-I also want to be allowed to make rules, within reason, during my time as your advisor. I also want, um, to be...able to decorate my room more."

Don sits in stale silence for a second before rubbing his thighs with the heels of his palms. "That's fine. So, you're my advisor now?"

"Yes."

Don lowers his head, staring at his lap. His pale hair falls across his metallic brow, shielding his eyes like the wing of a raven. "What are they doing?" he mutters.

You feel your breath catch in your throat. Maybe it is unwise to spew this information, but you were also roped into this with no brief. Any knowledge is yours for sharing. "They think I can help you become how you were before."

Don nods slowly and continuous, absorbing your words.

"They think me in particular because, um, uh, you said...you like me."

His bobbing head freezes. He lifts his chin, his eyes glowing through the curtain of hair.

Your heart leaps, and a small tremble begins in your hands. "The Machinist said you were always excited to see me. You would complement me. I...I..."

Your voice shatters as Don gets to his feet, the leather padding in his uniform creaking lightly as his limbs shift and push him up. He lays a hand on your shoulder, his thick fingers digging into the subtle ridges of your muscles. "I'm not angry," he coos. He lifts his hands to his face, reaching underneath the edges of the mask force feeding him nitro gas. A slender hiss creeps through the room as his mask slips away in a plume of orange mist. His large, brown eyes, dimming their mahogany glow, run up and down your body. They complement his soft lips. His nose is bold, with a defined bump on the bridge before dipping down into a lowered tip. Occasionally, Don subtly scrunches his nose; it must be a tic. His cheeks are full, leaving no definition on his cheekbones or jaw. His face is round and pleasant, juxtaposing with the face he usually adorns.

A gentle wheeze comes from Don's throat as he takes in a breath. "I do, um," He rubs his nose. "care for you." He shrugs. "I want you to know that too before we go into this. Things haven't been explained that well, have they?"

You heart flutters a few beats before stabilizing itself, galloping in a strong, determined rhythm. "Elaborate 'care'."

"I am interested in you. Romantically." Don scratches the back of his head, his eyes meeting yours before darting off to the ceiling and walls. He rolls his shoulders, loosening the adrenaline swamping his veins. "I like the quiet, hard-working type, ya know? Smart. Smarter than me." His cheeks start to glow red.

"Do you talk like this to everyone?" You want his lips badly. You want his shaking hands gripping your waist in the dead of night, the pillow muffling your pleasured moans.

"Not really. I don't develop, um, romantic interests very often. It's been years since my, uh, last relationship. And as of late, I've been a bit -" His cheeks suddenly flush brightly, his pupils dilated, before he spins around. He hangs his head. "Fuck. I am so sorry. This is wrong. I'm your boss."

You take a step closer to him, ignoring the movement arising in your thin underwear. "We can make a new rule. Advisor and Don are equal? You create plans, but I have to approve them and help you make them?"

"Is that equal to you?"

"For now."

"May I make a rule?"

"Yes."

"If...if the crew thinks, by majority vote, that you have become too powerful, you can no longer be my advisor. Checks and balances." Don looks back over his shoulder.

"Yes. We're going to write this down?"

"Absolutely. We will meet tomorrow as well to discuss this more."

"We can. I am also happy to have discussions about future disagreements, if that is what you are worried about."

"It is. This can spiral quickly. Especially since you seem interested in me, too. Am I right about that?"

"I am. I...I want you Don."

Don turns to you, his eyes large and doey. Your eyes float across his body before innocently returning to his face. He rubs his palms on his pants before clamping his hand on the back of his neck, his other planted on his hip. "Nervous," he mutters.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just want to know what you want to do."

"Do...do you want to have sex with me?"

"I do." Don holds back a gentle smile. "My Lord, you are bold," he mutters. "This isn't some Machinist shit, is it?"

You place a gentle hand on Don's arm, coddling the swath of muscle living below his hot skin. "Not at all. I wanted you long before she recommended me to you."

"And they are strong warriors I care about. And I think they care about me. I don't know. We're all Wastelanders at the end of it." A wheezing chuckle bursts from his mouth as he grabs your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his cheek.

"Jesus, you're warm," you mutter as Don leans into your hand.

"You felt so good cutting my hair," Don says, pressing his lips to your fingers, kissing your knuckles with soft pecks. A long sigh rushes from his nose as your hands migrate down to his neck, feeling his Adam's apple with your thumb.

You gasp as a large hand suddenly cups your erection, and a little wave of precum flashes from your tip. Don giggles at your surprise and draws you in with a sweep of his arm, pulling you to his armored chest. His lips and hot breath dance across your neck as he rubs the heel of his palm against your twitching member.

"Hurg! Don..." you whimper.

His grip lightens, and he pulls himself away from your broiling skin. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," you breathe. "Just feels really good."

"Okay." Don smiles, his teeth gleaming in the warm light. "Anything you don't want? Or really want?"

"Not particularly. Just be sweet. I like sweet sex when it is the first time with someone. What do you like? Or not like?"

"I like the same thing. And nothing that I don't want. I'll just let you know." Don resumes plastering kisses on your neck. His lips brush the fine hairs on your flesh, and a surge of shivers launches up your spine, causing your legs to tremble. "Poor thing," he hushes into your ear before you feels you feet lifts off the floor, his arms wrapping around your abdomen. His hands clasp your buttocks as he places you onto the bed. The springs squeak in response to the introduction of your weight. Don clambers atop you, his fingers still exploring your rear. His pelvis pushes into your dick, and you grunt in response to the might of his thighs.

You pull your arms out from underneath his chest, feeling around your jacket for the zipper. A metallic rip fills the air as you force the pull tab downwards, and Don yanks one of his hands out from underneath you, pulling your jacket off your body. He shoves his hands under your black v-neck, and you wail in excitement as his palms slip over your sides and his fingers pinch onto your nipples. You grab the bottom hem of your shirt, now at your upper chest, and drag it over your head before tossing it to the floor.

You cover your mouth as a loud, ecstatic shout erupts from your throat. A small, warm pool of saliva falls over your chest as his tongue circles around your nipple. You grab at your hair as deranged pleasure pulses through your nerves; sweat is starting to slick your scalp.

"Fuck, Don," you groan. "This feels so fucking good..."

Don unhooks the nitro glove connection points on his forearms, letting them clatter to the ground, before shoving his hand deep into his own pants. You watch his hand move around under his clothes, and he grunts a few times.

"Enjoying playing with yourself?"

Don nods before lifting his head, gasping. His cheeks are bright red, his eyelids a bit droopy. "Do you wanna play with me?" He attempts to mask a sultry smirk by biting his bottom lip.

You pull your legs up and force the bottoms of your boots underneath his chest. You gently push him backwards, grinning broadly. "Of course. But you have a lot to get off."

"Yeah, one second." Don pushes your legs to the side, and before he tends to the tubing on his torso, he squeezes your package again. "Still going strong," he mutters. With one hand, he unbuckles your belt, pulling it out of the loops around your pants. He starts to undo the button while his other hand tends to the tubing. He twists them counterclockwise, and as each comes loose, the gas sucks back into the central, armored casing strapped to his chest. The tubes are attached to his body via metal cylinders, each embedded into his skin. You whine as the button pops out of the hole, and his fingers quickly rip open your fly.

Don takes a moment away from his nitro to look at the scene before him. You are shirtless, legs spread, with the tip of your cock peeking out from underneath the elastic of your underwear. The fabric grows dark with precum and fluids. You grab the top of your pants and underwear, forcing them down to your knees. Your erection flops out, twitching happily.

"Okay, Advisor. You can scream in here," Don whispers. "The room is soundproof."

You arch your back and wail as he grabs your dick, his fist moving up and down the shaft. Your breathing quickens as you watch him roughly jerk you, forcing more to pour from you and cover his hands. Don laughs softly as he finishes removing the nitro tubing, letting them drop to the floor. He unstraps the armor fitted to his chest and places it gently at the foot of the bed.

"Enjoying yourself?" Don asks.

"Please make me cum," you beg, your voice quivering as your loins start to tighten.

"Going to make a mess for me?"

You nod vigorously. "Don, I am so full right now. You have no idea. I can keep finishing for you."

His hand falls away from your trembling penis, now with a steady dribble of semen rolling down the shaft and running down your testicles. "Or I could leave you until next time."

You rocket up.

"Did that upset you?" he coos as he pulls his leather undergarments over his head, revealing his defined muscles and radiant skin. Don folds it over the footboard, teasing some of the wrinkles out with his fingers. He grunts as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him to the mattress in a fit of giggles and grins. "Now," he says, pushing you to your side as he flops down next to you, your chests touching. His heart beats so strong within his ribcage, his flesh shaking with every beat. "As much as I enjoyed that, I do want to slow down. I want to be intimate with you, but maybe working up to it.

"I...you can trust me with you. I know it doesn't really seem like it, but, but I want someone to protect. I think that can help me. Protecting instead of anger. But, um, I don't know. I don't, um, know if I can...uh..." Don's eyes dart around the room, investigating the ceiling lamp subtly swinging and the blankets below. "I'm not ready to trust...you with my body." He places a hand on his naked chest. "This is fine, but, um," Don places his palm on his belt. "Not sure about here yet. If you want me to explore you, I am more than happy to. I like you. I think you're hot. I want to get to know you better, intimately and in daily life."

You grin widely before placing a hand on his cheek. Don exhales greatly before scooting closer to you. His warm lips touch yours, tasting of course seat salt and toasted sand. You close your eyes, sweeping into a warm void as his fingertips brush your ear. Don breaks the kiss and glances down.

"Do you want me to finish you?" he asks.

You blush and pull up your underwear over your penis, now growing soft. "Not right now. I liked listening to you. And I think maybe slowing down is good. We still got our first day together tomorrow. We'll see where that goes." You place a gentle peck between his eyes. "I don't want to leave, but what time is it?"

Don lifts his head, his eyes raking his desk. "7:43."

"Promised Damien and Livia I would get dinner at 8. May I lay with you until then?"

"Of course."