And we're there. This chapter will feature some sexual content, probably too much to safely read around your grandma unless she's cool, but I'm sure you've all seen much, much worse.
A barren spit of land in the middle of the ocean didn't lend itself to a tryst. Erosion hadn't yet had time to create even the thinnest layer of soft sand, leaving only rock on offer. There was no shelter, no cover, no amenities.
Given the nature of the terrain, it had taken them a bit to work out the logistics. Dyspo refusing to let Hit release his ears hadn't made navigating the topography any easier. They had finally found a spot that allowed them both to sit, with Dyspo in the front and slightly lower, and Hit able to reach the full extent of the Pride Trooper's ears.
Dyspo had had partners play with his ears before—especially the ones who'd used them as a pickup line—but what Hit was able to do was downright obscene. The assassin's hands, guided by a combination of anatomical markers, instinct, and Dyspo's vocalizations, traced patterns up and down the ears. Hit gently followed the path of blood vessels, ran his thumbs along curves, and paid special attention to the musculature at the bases.
"Be honest. You ever been with someone like me before?" Dyspo asked during a brief interlude.
"A smart-mouth rabbit from the Eleventh Universe? No," Hit replied.
"The only reason I'm asking is because you seem like you know your way around- Hot damn! I don't know what you just did, but do it again!"
Hit smirked. He'd figured out quickly that the entirety of Dyspo's ears were sensitive, but where they joined his head, the nerves were concentrated. No wonder. The Pride Trooper relied on his ears almost as much as he relied on his speed. Every subtle shift and tiny adjustment depended on what rested just beneath the skin.
"Where did you learn that?" Dyspo was forced to lean back against Hit for support.
"You don't want to know," the assassin replied.
"Come on, you're not gonna tell me you learned this by, you know…"
"Killing people?"
"Damn it, you were right, I didn't want to know. But now I'm curious! How do you go from cold-blooded murder to magic fingers?"
"Careful. It could revert to 'cold-blooded murder' before you realize it." Just as a friendly reminder, Hit released one of Dyspo's ears and rapped the knuckles of his now-free hand against the Pride Trooper's chest.
Dyspo swallowed hard and glanced down at his body. "That shouldn't be doing what it's doing to me."
Hit resumed rubbing tight circles on both ears. "I may not have your hearing, but I'm excellent at reading people. I had to be or I would never have survived this long. Will my target run left, right, at me, for the door? Will they pull a weapon? It's less consequential now, but when I was much younger, before I had a proper mastery of my time skip, it saved my life more times than I'd like to admit."
"So the same little twitches you'd look for in someone you were gonna ice-"
"Not the exact same twitches," Hit said. "But the principle is the same, yes. Your body language guides my actions."
"I must be a damned good guide," Dyspo said.
"You're responsive and demonstrative." Hit dug his thumbs into a tiny muscle that helped support the back of Dyspo's ears. The Pride Trooper went rigid for a moment and then turned into a puddle.
It took Dyspo a few seconds to gather himself. Whatever button Hit had just pressed had sent a shock somewhere between pain and bliss from his ears down to the base of his spine. When the Pride Trooper tried to speak, the hitch in his voice was unmissable.
"I'm gonna be honest, I don't think I can take much more of this."
"Would you prefer I finished you off?" Hit inquired.
Dyspo tried to tilt his head back far enough to see Hit's face but his massive ears got in the way. "That depends on what you mean by 'finish me off.'"
"I don't mean kill," the assassin replied.
The Pride Trooper licked his lips. "No, forget I said anything. I want you to keep going. I never really thought somebody could get me off using just my ears but I'm up for the challenge if you are."
Hit was more than up for the challenge. He leaned forward and added a new, unexpected technique to the mix: a mouth that was almost as skilled as his hands.
In an encounter Dyspo would have been happy to forget, a woman had once offered to suck his ears. Younger, woefully naïve Dyspo had shrugged his shoulders and given her a chance, because why not? A couple bite wounds and an absurd amount of saliva later, the Pride Trooper could clearly elucidate why not.
At least it looked like Hit was swinging for redemption. While it was still hard to not think of the woman practically chewing on him, there was nothing particularly garish or wet about Hit's methods. He also applied his teeth with far more success and far less physical trauma.
A few more minutes of attention from the assassin and any past exploits, positive or negative, were stricken from Dyspo's head. His thoughts in general were all but lost in a whirlpool of sensation. He was burning from his ears down the length of his spine, the heat concentrating in his lower belly and groin. He had to do something or he was going to combust.
"No." Before Dyspo's hand could achieve anything, Hit captured and subdued it. "The agreement was ears only. We would have to start over."
The thought Hit would or could just stop shot through Dyspo like an arrow. He frantically shook his head. "I'll behave."
"Good." Hit released the hand and Dyspo tucked both his arms firmly against his body.
The assassin's hands resumed their work. He kept his mouth unoccupied in case Dyspo needed any further reminders. Not that Hit would really stop so close to the point of no return. He was cold but he wasn't a sadist.
Dyspo's ears were now feverishly hot under Hit's fingers. The Pride Trooper threw his head back, eyes clenched shut, breath coming in shallow, frenetic gasps. He had to ball his hands into fists to keep himself from temptation.
Hit decided there was no reason to prolong Dyspo's suffering any further. There came a point where pleasure turned into over-stimulation and desperation and, judging from the look on the Pride Trooper's face, that point wasn't far off. Hit returned to the matching set of muscles at the back of the rabbit's ears, the most sensitive spots he'd found in his thorough exploration.
With perfect synchronicity Hit jabbed his thumbs in deep enough to ensure pain and pleasure would blend. Maintaining the same pressure, he quickly slid his thumbs first up and then back down, compressing the full length of the muscles.
It was the final push Dyspo needed. He emitted a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak, his entire body going tense. Hit took the opportunity to lift the Pride Trooper and haul him onto his lap. The assassin pressed their bodies together and held Dyspo in an embrace that was just shy of constricting.
After a few seconds of rigidity, the Pride Trooper went limp. Dead weight limp. If Hit hadn't been supporting him, he would have tumbled onto the rocks.
"Was that as good for you as it was for me?" Dyspo mumbled after a minute or so. He made no attempt to regain control of his body and seemed quite content to rest right where he was.
"I've experienced worse," Hit replied.
"Heh, so have I. This chick tried to take a chunk out of my ears once. Thanks for not doing that."
Hit adjusted his grip so he could still hold Dyspo but had a hand free to gently stroke his ears. "An injury like that would have made things much more difficult."
"Nah, you'd just have to switch to my, well, you know. Dick. That actually would have been a lot easier."
"Was easy what you wanted?"
"For the last bit there, yeah, because I thought I was gonna explode. But you couldn't just let me come, even if I was doing it myself. Nope."
Hit smirked. "I thought Pride Troopers didn't know the meaning of the word 'surrender.'"
"That does it. Let me up. We're gonna go again, right here, right now. Using my own words against me, you bastard."
The assassin did as bidden and released the rabbit. Who promptly fell straight down. He tried to catch himself but Hit's hand at the collar of his uniform was quicker.
"The only thing you should do is go to bed," Hit said. He laid the Pride Trooper on the ground belly-down.
Dyspo sat up and glared. "You're just lucky I'm a little tired. But I'll see you bright and early."
Hit reckoned it would be closer to noon but he kept his opinion to himself. Though Dyspo was trying to hide it with his normal belligerence, he really was too exhausted to fight. That didn't mean he wouldn't try if he was needled enough, only that the risk Hit would accidentally injure him would be higher than the assassin preferred. To avoid any chance of conflict, Hit bid the Pride Trooper a good night and rose into the air. He was a little surprised to find Dyspo likewise taking flight.
"You're not going to run?" Hit asked.
The Pride Trooper blushed. "I'm...sticky. I think I'll catch a shower and some fresh clothes before I do any running."
"You could wash in the ocean," Hit pointed out.
"I'm not washing in a nasty, cold, sea-monster-infested ocean when I have a hot shower at home. Especially not when I can be under that hot shower in five minutes."
Hit realized it had been a month since he'd bathed with anything except river water at its natural temperature. It did the job well enough but civilization had its perks, not having to share a water source with fish and leeches being one of them.
"They don't have indoor plumbing on rat planet?" Dyspo asked, as Hit seemed distracted by the idea of hot water on tap.
"It was a moon, not a planet. Any indoor plumbing there was incinerated in a war 400 years ago."
"Rough. Well, if you're gonna eat our food, I guess you can use our shower facilities too. I'll show you when we get back."
As they approached the outpost, Hit scanned the ground below him. If the excitement was over for the day, he figured it would be smart to grab his travel bag. Only it didn't seem to be where he'd left it.
"What are you looking for?" Dyspo asked.
"My travel bag. I dropped it soon after I arrived. It's apparently grown legs."
The Pride Trooper shrugged. "Cocotte or K'nsi must've grabbed it. I'll ask them for it in the morning. Unless there's something in there you need tonight?"
Hit shook his head. "Nothing that can't wait."
"Great. Then here's another tour. And it's gonna be a quick one."
The barracks were more like a collective of tiny studio apartments. There were a total of fourteen rooms, twelve for the original scientists and two for visitors or additional colleagues. Thanks to Spot, Dyspo explained, half of the team had quit immediately after rescue and the remaining six opted to stay in orbit and pop in every now and then rather than live full time on a planet that had tried to eat them. That left plenty of unoccupied rooms for the Pride Troopers to enjoy.
"K'nsi and Cocotte are down the hall. He's the left room, she's the right. I'm here. I really want to invite you in but I'm dying on my feet. Take whichever of those two rooms you want, they're the same." Dyspo pointed at the rooms in question. "Each room has its own bathroom and shower; I guess the resident eggheads didn't want to see each others' junk. And if Spot comes knocking, tell K'nsi about it. Sweet dreams, I hope you're ready to get your ass kicked in the morning."
That was one of the more unique ways to say "good night" Hit had encountered. He gave Dyspo a nod and the Pride Trooper closed his door.
Hit was left standing in the hallway, pondering his choices. Not that there was much to think about if both rooms featured the same layout and amenities. The assassin decided he'd peek into both of them, just to make sure one didn't have a more pleasant view.
A quick inspection told Hit both views were equally mediocre. Both shower stalls were also, unfortunately, equally small. Hit imagined Dyspo would have to tuck his ears down to enter. At least the rabbit benefited from a lithe frame. Being tall and considerably more muscular left Hit wondering if he wouldn't be better off scrubbing in front of the sink.
The idea of having hot water running over him was just too pleasant to dismiss. If worst came to worst, he'd just have to crouch or sit and hope the shower didn't flood the rest of the tiny bathroom.
The only upside of the cramped space was Hit didn't have to look very hard to find toiletries and towels. Everything was in a small cupboard below the sink. He gathered what little he needed—shampoo, even if it smelled fresh and floral, wasn't going to do him much good—and crammed it on the narrow shelf built into the shower. The towel he left within easy reach on the sink.
Hit was in the process of removing his coat when the sound of knocking caught his attention. There were three people that could be unless Spot had remarkable dexterity with his flippers. Hit gave the shower a look of longing before exiting the bathroom.
As expected, Hit found Dyspo on his doorstep. Less expected, Dyspo had his bag. Even less expected, Dyspo was dressed in striped pajamas with a fluffy blue robe over them.
"Is that regulation?" Hit asked, somehow with a straight face.
"What, did you think we all slept in the uniform every night?" Dyspo replied.
"Something like that."
"We don't. Sometimes we have to, like in the middle of a mission, but what I wear on my time is my business."
"It's cute. Where are your nightcap and slippers?"
"Just shut up and take your crap." Dyspo tossed the bag to its rightful owner.
"Thank you. Where did you find it?" Hit asked.
"It was on my bed when I walked in. I guess whoever picked it up knew I'd get it back to you. I'm responsible like that."
"You're a credit to your universe and the Pride Trooper organization."
Dyspo mimed tipping his hat to Hit. "All in a day's work. Oh, yeah, one more thing."
Before Hit could ask, Dyspo took a step forward and eliminated the space between them. The Pride Trooper grabbed Hit's shoulders in a reversal of what had happened in the pocket dimension earlier. This time there was no surprise violence. The kiss was too hungry, especially on Dyspo's end, to be called chaste, but it was clear the kiss was an act unto itself. It was not going to be a segue to clothes being torn off and beds being unmade in the filthiest ways possible.
At least not right then.
Both parties separated amicably. For the first time, Dyspo finally noticed a little flush in Hit's cheeks. Damn it, that shade looked even better than what the headbutt had brought out. The Pride Trooper wanted more.
"Go to sleep," Hit said, bringing an arm between them. "I'm not entertaining your teammates all morning when you're too tired to function."
Dyspo looked like he was going to protest, then like he was going to sulk, but he finally gave in to the voice of reason. "Alright, but tomorrow I'm going to show you some of my moves. You're not the only one who knows how to use his mouth."
A bit more deep purple crept into Hit's face. He gently but firmly pushed Dyspo back into the hallway. "Good night."
"Wait, I forgot to tell you something else," Dyspo said as Hit tried to close the door.
The assassin allowed the door to swing back open. "What?"
"When you turn the shower on, let it run for a minute or two. It takes a while to heat up."
"I'll do that. Good night," Hit repeated. This time he was able to close the door successfully.
Thanks for reading.