Chapter Text
Agent Washington knew he’d never been the luckiest man on the planet, but this was taking things too far.
The new agents had arrived, all of them young and primed for war, and the Freelancers who had been rated highest in their testing are paired first. Command seemed to have some ulterior motive in pairing them, because Wash was paired last, stuck with the youngest of them. And Wash knew they had found out his weakness. Those eyes were supernaturally blue, staring at him stubbornly from under black fringe. He was skinny and his black uniform was clinging to him in all the right places, and Wash knew this kid couldn’t be older than sixteen but he wanted him, damn them all, he wanted.
He couldn’t say anything about it, and the pressure already building inside him was making him more tense than usual. He knew he needed to act casual, disinterested, to wait for the kid to leave him alone for five goddamn minutes while he could let his imagination run rampant, but idle chatter had never been his strong suit. “So what’s your name, kid?”
“Epsilon.” His voice was hard-edged, like he’d seen things he was never meant to see. This kid was old beyond his years, and it only made Wash’s situation worse. “Yours?”
“Agent Washington.” That was his name now, and this little shit was going to call him that.
“That’s not a name,” Epsilon complained.
“Neither is Epsilon.” God, his patience with his partner was wearing thin, and they’d only been paired for a few minutes.
“Hey. All I know is what they told me. And they told me my name is Epsilon. So why don’t you just fucking tell me your name?”
The smartass had a dirty mouth and an attitude to match, and Wash knew by now that this kid would be the death of him. “You call me Wash or you don’t call me anything at all.”
“Fuck you. All I want to know is your name.” They’d reached Wash’s room by now, and Wash was surprised to see the duffels piled on the second bed; apparently they’d moved Epsilon’s things in without letting him know.
Wash made sure to shut the door behind him before letting the kid know enough to shut him up. “David.”
“Fine, then, David,” Epsilon said, arms crossing in front of his chest, “you wanna tell me what exactly it is that I’m supposed to be doing with you?”
Writhing underneath him, sweat pooling in his clavicles and beading on his forehead, crying out obscenely as Wash fucked him, and he shook his head to clear his mind of that completely unsolicited and pornographic mental image. “Don’t call me that – that’s an order.” It was bad enough that the kid looks so pervertible. That it was his given name coming out of that sweet young mouth – it just made everything worse. “Unpack your things, and start doing some research on tomorrow’s mission while I shower.” He felt like he was about to snap, and it was the one thing he can think of that would give him some privacy to take care of this unexpected problem.
“Where’s the –“ he could hear Epsilon asking him, but he shut the door to the bathroom behind himself and stripped in record time, groaning as his cock was exposed. He’d been hard since the first curse out of his new partner’s mouth, embarrassed by his body’s reaction to the kid. He kept the water scalding, punishing himself for these completely unwanted feelings. It didn’t stop him from stroking his cock lazily, resting his forehead on the forearm that braced him against the cold tile of the shower wall. He could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye – that swotty mouth inching its way down and back up, bluest blue eyes glancing up at him as if for approval. He tried to stay quiet but couldn’t help the little gasps he let out. “Mmh!”
He swore he could hear Epsilon’s voice in his ear, calling out “David!”, and it only motivated him harder, fisting his cock at a furious pace. “Aagh… fuck…” It felt too good for it to last, and he realized that it really was Epsilon calling his name, banging on the door. It was the last thing he needed to finally let the lust uncoil, stifling a cry into a ‘mmph!’ There was a brief haze as he collected his thoughts again, and then he felt dirtier than ever before, watching his cum wash down the shower wall.
The sharp edge was gone, but that deep current of desire was still there. At least Wash felt coherent enough to hold a conversation now, and he hoped it had been enough to keep his cock in line for the next few hours. When he stepped back into the room, he had a towel around his waist and another around his shoulders, dripping water onto the floor. Epsilon was unpacking his things into drawers, and the mechanical way his body moved made Wash wonder whether there wasn’t something wrong with this kid. “No personal effects?”
Epsilon’s eyes flicked to him, a flash of supernatural blue, before his eyes narrowed and he turned back to his work. “Why would I have personal effects?”
Wash didn’t have an answer for such an inane question, so he asked another instead. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Sixteen.” So he had been right. “The fuck do you care?”
“You’re a soldier,” Wash pointed out. “A trained killer. And you’re sixteen years old. Care to give me an explanation?”
“I don’t have one. I just do what they fucking tell me.” He shoved his uniform into the drawers with a little more violence than strictly necessary, and Wash enjoyed seeing him agitated.
“Where did they find you?”
“I don’t remember.” Turtlenecks were coming unfolded as Epsilon got angrier, and Wash could see his hands shaking.
“How old were you?”
“I don’t remember, asshole.” This time it was his trousers that were coming unpressed, Epsilon’s rage building with every moment.
“Why didn’t they give you an explanation?” Wash lost interest in getting dressed in favor of studying this new partner of his, the way his ass was sticking out just so as he leaned over to put his things away, and he hated himself for noticing this detail.
“Listen, David.” He stood straight, glaring at Wash. “I told you, I don’t fucking know. And I sure as hell don’t owe you anything.”
Hearing his given name out of his mouth was the last thing Wash needed right now, and it lit his fuse again. It took so little out of this kid to flip his switch from self-control to righteous anger, a sizzle of lust burning again beneath it all. “Let’s get one thing straight: I’m your handler here. You do what I tell you to do.” He took a step closer to the kid, hoping to inspire some fear in him, encroach on his personal space. “I’ve told you not to call me that, and you keep doing it.”
“You unbelievable sonofabitch.” Epsilon’s arms cross again, a smirk tugging up at one corner of his mouth, and it was as if he actually enjoyed getting a rise out of Wash. “I just met you an hour ago. You think I’m going to take orders from you?”
“You need to learn your place.” The insubordination was mind-boggling. Wash’s fingers itched to close around this kid’s throat and throttle him senseless – either that, or to caress soft skin, grasp at him and hear him sigh at the sensations.
“Yeah? And where, exactly, would that be?” Epsilon’s voice was unbelievably silky, and there was still a glimmer of defiance in those beautiful blue eyes.
Wash just stared at him. He was actually asking for it. And so he didn’t even bother to restrain his rage, closing the gap between them and fisting his hands in his turtleneck. “Up against the wall,” he muttered low into his ear, and the soft cry as he slammed Epsilon into the wall made the violence totally, totally worth it.
Then those eyes glared at him again, a flash of blue before a fist came at his face. He could dodge it well enough, catching Epsilon’s fist in a strong hand. He was surprised at how strong the bones feel in his fist: this wasn’t a kid that would break easily. Epsilon was impatient, though, and didn’t even think to move when Wash punched him in the face, cartilage in his nose crunching under his knuckles and skull making a cracking noise as it connected with the wall. His nose wasn’t broken, but blood is blooming on his face.
Epsilon laughed as he used his free hand to wipe the blood away from his mouth, that same self-satisfied look still on his face. But it wasn’t just this that made Wash realize that something about this kid was very, very wrong – it was the way Epsilon was leaning back against his shoulders so he could push his pelvis closer to Wash. The movement nudged his towel up his leg, and Wash could feel a bulge up against his thigh. The kid wanted him. Epsilon wanted, just as badly as Wash did. “What’re you gonna do, David?” he asked through that incredible smirk.
“You self-sacrificing idiot,” he murmured, using a thumb to smear the blood under Epsilon’s nose onto his cheek. He would more beautiful broken than whole, and with that thought, Wash finally lost the last of his will to resist. He crushed Epsilon back against the wall, fingers tangling in his hair and exposing an ear so he could whisper into it. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Oh, you basta –“ Epsilon tried to say, but Wash cut him off, licking the blood from his lips before slipping his tongue into his new partner’s mouth. It was too easy to pin that wrist on the wall above Epsilon’s head, and grasping at one slim thigh to pull their bodies even closer felt so unbelievably satisfying. Epsilon’s heel dug into his ass, and he knew his towel was slipping, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He kissed him harder, harder, until teeth bit into his lips. Epsilon wasn’t the only one bleeding now, and the taste of blood was thick and metallic as their mouths collided over and over.
It didn’t take long for Epsilon to lose his turtleneck. In the brief time that their lips parted, he had enough time to call Wash a ‘sick fuck’ before his wrists, still in the sleeves, were pinned back up against the wall. Wash enjoyed watching him struggle to free himself, and the little ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s coming from his throat tasted even more delectable when Wash licked and sucked along the taut cords in Epsilon’s neck.
Epsilon’s hands came free from the sleeves of his shirt, and his nails scraped against Wash’s shoulders, the small sparks of pain only spurring Wash to greater heights. His towels both fell to the floor, forgotten, as Epsilon’s other thigh came up around his hips. Wash grasped at his ass to hold him off the floor, kneading pert flesh in his large hands, and he groaned at the thought that soon he’d be buried to the hilt between those cheeks. Epsilon must have read his mind, because his hand wrapped gently around Wash’s cock, light touches just enough to tease him to unbearable hardness.
It would be unfair to call what they were doing ‘kissing’ –it felt more like oral molestation, each of them trying to outdo the other in ferocity. Wash’s hands slipped inside Epsilon’s trousers, and the moan from Epsilon’s throat was delicious as Wash worked to divest him of his clothes. Somehow, with a little twisting and a few more ‘fuck’s from Epsilon, the kid ended up just as naked as Wash.
He looked even skinnier naked than he had clothed, and Wash marveled as he traced the outline of his ribs, his collarbones, held his bony elbows as he licked the shell of his ear. Even through his violence, Epsilon was submitting to him, allowing his arms to be pinned up against the wall again, and his back arched as Wash ran his mouth down his neck, along the line of his shoulder. Their cocks nudged gently together with each buck of Epsilon’s hips against what Wash was doing to him, and Wash knew he couldn’t wait much longer.
He didn’t want to stop running his mouth along Epsilon’s skin, but as much as he wanted to hurt Epsilon, he knew the kid was going to need prepped for what was about to happen to him. It took him a few seconds to slick two of his fingers with his own spit, and then Epsilon was gasping out “oh, asscunt” as Wash sought out his hole and pushed inside. Any words Epsilon would have said seemed to die out as Wash nudged up against a little ridge inside him, and the way he threw back his head to show his adam’s apple was irresistible.
A second finger, and Epsilon was panting harder, wrists twitching under Wash’s hold. The curses were coming less frequently now, and those blue, blue eyes were half-lidded from pleasure, but a purposeful jab up against his prostate from Wash’s fingertips and he was begging “oh, fuck me” and rutting his cock up against Wash’s abs.
“Is that really what you want?” Wash knew he had to ask, but it was more than that – the shiver running the length of Epsilon’s body was so luscious it ought to have been criminal.
“Fuck, David, just –“ and he lost the words as Wash’s fingers kept fucking him, hitting that one spot over and over.
But to maneuver this right, Epsilon was going to have to move; as good as it felt to have Epsilon’s heels digging into his ass, mechanics just didn’t work that way. Wash pulled his fingers out oh-so-slowly, earning a wordless cry from his partner, and he let go of his wrists to pull Epsilon’s thighs away from his hips. “Turn around,” he ordered, and his own voice was so foreign to him, so fogged by lust that he didn’t sound like himself.
Epsilon purposefully slid against him as he turned his body, tendons in his legs standing out with tension as he forced himself onto the balls of his feet. It only took Wash the space of a few seconds to spit into his palm and slick his cock, the sensation so intense that he hissed. Epsilon was obediently keeping his hands above his head, and if Wash squinted he could almost imagine that his new partner was chained to the ceiling. Then came the moment of truth: spreading the kid’s ass and taking him like the bitch he was.
God, it gave him such a thrill to know that he had such control over this body in front of him, that he could alter the precise pitch, stress, tone of the cries that were coming from that delectable throat. Epsilon screamed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as Wash’s cock began to violate him. The pleasure of it was almost as great as the feel of Epsilon clenching around him, heat tightening around him like a vise, and Wash was sure he was the first person to touch Epsilon like this, to want him like this, because he wasn’t relaxing. It was too enjoyable to force himself in, to break Epsilon in under his hand.
Epsilon’s hands were scrabbling against the wall, nails scraping, as if he could crawl up and escape what Wash was doing to him, but there was nowhere for him to go and they both knew it. Wash could see the glisten of one fat tear rolling down his cheek as he finally sunk in, balls-deep, grunting from the rawness of the pleasure. He wanted to thrust, to take, to completely violate Epsilon, but patience was the key. It only took a few words from Epsilon, though, to make him lose his composure again. “You gonna fuck me or you just gonna tease?” One rough thrust, and Epsilon’s chest slammed back into the wall. “Shit, yeah, like that –“
Wash just wished he would shut up – his voice was more of a turn-on than he had anticipated. But no matter how hard he pushed, those obscene words wouldn’t stop coming out of his mouth. Fucking him harder made him breathless, which only made it hotter that such profanity was coming from such a young mouth. It wasn’t long before each curse was punctuated by a sweaty slap and a grunt from Wash.
He had thought that taking his shower had taken the edge off of things. It hadn’t. This was going too fast, lust raging through him and deconstructing him, and he hurriedly reached around to grasp at Epsilon’s cock and fist it so hard it had to hurt. It finally made Epsilon stop cursing, but if possible, his now-wordless cries were even more erotic.
Everything was building up too quickly, and Wash threaded his fingers in Epsilon’s soft hair, pulling it as his hand knotted into a fist, trying to stave off the inevitable. And then it didn’t matter, because he was coming, harder than he ever remembered, with a ‘fuck’ that turned out to be unanimous with Epsilon as his partner blew his load over Wash’s fist. The haze of this one lasted longer, and Wash allowed his forehead to drop to Epsilon’s shoulder, at least one tender gesture for this whole encounter.
When he finally had the sense to disengage, though, everything started resolving with perfect clarity. This was a sixteen-year-old kid, someone he had only known for the space of an hour, and Wash had just let his dirtiest secret come to the fore. He had let himself lose control in exchange for just a few moments of pleasure, and it hadn’t been a good bargain. But the way Epsilon was still trying to catch his breath, shoulders heaving, hands curled against the wall, looking thoroughly fucked… it was what he had deserved, wasn’t it?
Epsilon pushed past him, glaring into his face. “I’ll – I’ll be right back.” Before Wash could ask him what his problem was, he had locked himself in the bathroom, and Wash could hear a distinct horfing sound before the water in the sink started running. For his part, he sat on the edge of his mattress, feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself, angry at Epsilon, and more than anything, completely unsatisfied.
It was a few minutes before Epsilon left the bathroom, blood cleaned from his face but still looking worse for wear. “Hey, asshole, feel like sharing?” A smack on his shoulder, and then Epsilon was sitting next to him, body heat uncomfortably close.
He had to say something. He had to apologize. “Listen, Epsilon…”
“That’s not my fucking name.” Wash raised an eyebrow, about to ask a question, but Epsilon answered it for him. “It’s Eddie.”
“Oh, so now you remember?” What an obnoxious little shit.
“Must’ve fucked it outta me.” His eyes, even though they were fuck-dazed, were still brilliantly blue, and that smirk was back on his face.
This was going to be an interesting day, Wash could already tell. “Tell me everything you remember.”
“Better convince me first.” He let himself fall back onto the bed, head hitting the pillows, stretching out as if he owned it.
Wash just stared at him, this kid he’d only known for a short while, and knew this was going to be the most difficult relationship he’d ever have to endure. “I hate you,” he told his new partner, knowing he didn’t mean the words. Actually acknowledging the sentiment would have been too hard.
“I fuckin’ hate you too. Bastard.” Wash knew he didn’t mean it, and that was the most dangerous part of all.