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Lodi had gun training. It was bare bones, barely enough to do more than shoot a few rounds to disorient his attacker, but a requirement for his old job. He could shoot someone, perhaps not mortally wounding them, but avoiding having the gun he was using shoot back and hit him in the face in the process. Nowadays, guns feel familiar in his hands, and he carries one on his person at all times just in case.
Now, in the far future, Ikora pesters him to carry one of the new futuristic weapons, always warning him about being Lightless, claiming that a shot wouldn't merely harm him like how it did to the Drifter or the Guardian. If it wasn't for the Nine protecting him, he would be dead, and if the Nine got bored, it wouldn't take much to make sure they got rid of him. A terrifying prospect in all aspects. That the Guardian wouldn't be there at all times to protect him was understandable, but it didn't always ease his nerves. He survived this far, but he doesn't know how far that is gonna last.
He does not know how to shoot one of the newer, far greater, future guns. They feel like a normal gun in his hands, but the recoil and the handling couldn't be much different. At least they're more deadly than the normal guns in this day and age, and it makes dealing with the House of Exile much easier than it was with a pistol. Futuristic advantages, hooray!
Still, one thing he never expected was for Ikora, the same woman wearing his old friend's face, to speak sweet words even if he had not deserved it, and ask him to accompany the Guardian during one of his runs around Kepler.
"He's a Hunter," she had laughed, dismissing the fact that Drifter had been eating something he feared even seeing. "Hopefully, you won't have too much trouble keeping up with him. Hardly understand what goes through their minds most of the time."
Fine. His gun was weird. But nothing could compare to the weapons that the Guardian— Orion, his ghost said he was called— held and used. A few rounds of bullets at once, piercing through everything? It was child's play compared to the beams that his weapons shoot at the goblins.
But unlike him, the Guardian moves swiftly. A gift from the Light, the Lightbearers say. Which, sure, fair enough. He wasn't gifted a Light by said Traveler, only having horrors beyond his understanding lusting for him. Still, no cool abilities other than hearing them pop in every now, and commenting on every single thing he does. The problem is, the Vex are used to Orion's movements.
Him? He looks away for a moment, and the next thing he knows is that he's tumbling forward as the most awful, undignified sound comes from his mouth. It's loud enough for Orion to turn around, with thicker armor being able to counter an attack or two coming from the enemies. For a moment, he thinks he's done for, falling hard onto the ground before being swiftly picked up, held over the Guardian's shoulder as if he weighed nothing more than a toddler.
They stumble against a few walls as they make their escape, Lodi complaining when each collision constantly hits his wound. And, eventually, a dead end. Thankfully, the Vex haven't followed them, and Orion tumbles onto the ground as soon as he determines they're safe to rest. It doesn't make Lodi feel any relief, dirt kicking under his clothes and worsening the pain.
"I'm gonna die," he complains against the floor, writhing in the spot he's lying on. "Ay, Diosito mío, que todo esto sea una pesadilla. Se que no te he rezado en un tiempo, pero hoy te pido por favor, un milagro, nomás."
Orion sits up, a rough gasp coming from his throat. Doesn't seem like he has fled without any issue either, coughing and choking on his blood as Helix fixes him up, the little Ghost distracting him from his impromptu prayers to a God he now doubts exists.
Once there's no longer any blood dripping from his helmet, Orion stretches, a quiet moment of peace before the Guardian is pushing his clothes up, and putting his entire hand over the charred skin. He hisses, weakly gripping his waist, but Orion doesn't listen to his silent plea.
"Por favor te lo pido," Lodi cries out, attempting to free himself from the torture that Orion is putting him through. "Mañana pido vacaciones, me voy al pueblo de má. La paso con mi familia, y el domingo allá me tenés, rezándote al altar. Y al siguiente también."
"Stop moving," his voice is firm, unwavering. Doesn't seem too bothered by the fact that his side has been burnt, but perhaps it's because he has been through worse. "You'll be fine."
It's hard to believe. And therefore, Lodi chooses not to. He's about to continue his prayers when gloved fingers enter directly into the wound, prodding the damaged layers of skin and making him sob. Whatever he's doing, he chooses not to see, closing his eyes as tears threaten to spill. As if seeing his distress, Orion gently places a hand over his chest, a weak attempt at comfort. But his luck today cannot be worse, pinky finger lightly brushing against a nipple, a confused moan falling from his lips. Equally confusing for the other man, who stops in his tracks to look up at him with a tilt of his head. Hand moves lower, touch lingering on the sensitive nub, and Lodi has to bite his lip so as not to embarrass himself any further.
The shame comes in waves, from something small that makes him look away to truly wishing for death, wanting nothing but to be buried after this encounter. Yes, he's needy; it's been far too long since he's been with someone this close. But not with the appointed weapon. Wouldn't he get in trouble for tainting the Nine's sacred blade? Yet he's not strong enough to pull the man away, not when he shuffles closer, helping him sit up as he gently sits over his legs.
Fingers play with his nipples, pinching and rubbing the nub with no abandon. He originally tried to move away, only to realize that he's unable to, Orion having positioned him against a rock just in case he needed the support. His helmet nuzzles against his neck, feeling him sigh as he feels him.
"We shouldn't be doing this."
Orion looks up from his spot, almost hitting Lodi's nose in the process.
"You don't want this?"
"I never said that," he laughs awkwardly, trying to relieve the tension hanging between the men. "We're in the open. We could get killed, or call the attention of the House of Exile… Many things could go wrong, right?"
Something tells him that Orion barely believes him, only returning against his neck as his hands moved lower.
"Yes or no?" Too forward. He knows that Orion is a quiet man, but this? This is bold. It takes him by surprise. So much that he chokes on his spit, coughing, and takes off his glasses to leave them by their side.
"Yes," he admits bashfully, wavering hands coming to rest on Orion's waist.
Consent being freely given, Orion doesn't take long before shoving a hand down Lodi's pants, opening them enough for his member to be fully out. The touch against the glove stings even more as he jerks him off before the friction causes the smallest drop of precum to fall down his shaft, slide becoming easier as the material gets wetter. Doesn't take long for Orion's pants to be discarded as well. Lodi opens his mouth to ask if he had done it before, only to be stopped by him lining up his cock against his hole, going down in a swift motion that steals the breath out of his lungs.
He has to hold himself back from cumming, fingers digging into his thighs as he tries to hold back his climax. While he doubts Orion would have minded it much, he would rather not embarrass himself any further, a pathetic sound filling the air as his body trembled from the stimulation, the Guardian being patient and waiting until he made the first move.
It takes a while, but soon enough, he attempts to rut into Orion's heat, the other appreciating the gesture before too moving his hips, being able to fuck himself easily. A part of him wonders just how much he has done it before.
Lodi cannot help but moan and buck up, gloved fingers digging into the soft, pale skin of Orion's thigh as he rides him. He can vaguely hear the sound of Vex close to them, but is relieved to see just how many knives a Hunter carries on their person.
After a particular thrust up, Orion nearly screams, head shooting back as he grounds his waist against the other man's. It's clear it's him stimulating his prostate, and yet the delicious drag has Lodi crying, weakly grinding his hips as he tries to chase more of that stimulation, drool falling off his mouth, and eyes rolling to the back of his skull.
His glasses had been discarded far too long ago, and he can barely see— And yet he sees Orion taking off his helmet, cloak still on and covering part of his head, but now with a face uncovered for him to kiss. And oh, he does, hands bringing the Guardian closer to his body before he ravages his lips, chewing on his lower one as Orion gasps and ruts against his body, arms circling his neck as he reciprocates the heated touch.
This is life. And to think that Lodi had once been angry about the reasons he was brought here, feeling like a toy just for the Nine. But when those said horrors, literal gods, seem to be thriving from his pleasure and enjoying every single of his moves, writhing from delight at the back of his mind, he cannot help but think it's not so bad, especially how they make his blood run hot, every single touch becoming far more overstimulating than it should be.
'The Weapon,' they chant, voices mixing as they enjoy the show. 'And our perfect ambassador. In perfect union,' they sigh.
He licks into his mouth as he pants, and Orion responds by teasingly biting his tongue before diving back into a bruising kiss. Orion only tries to pull him closer to his body, neck trapped between strong arms to the point Lodi can consider it strangulation. And lords above, he does not care. Breathing is no longer necessary for him, was it? The only reason he has been doing so has been a second nature of his time as a human, merely a habit. Orion could break his neck right this instant, but something tells him that the Nine hadn't planned it as such. And almost as if reading his thoughts, the Guardian weakens his grip on the other man, moaning into his mouth an apology for getting carried away.
"All good," Lodi tries to reassure with a smile, only for it to be cut off and instead be changed to an expression of pleasure, eyes rolling back as Orion once again starts bouncing on his lap.
The friction makes him see stars, feeling every nerve connection of his body burning up in pure ecstasy. Overwhelming, suffocating, almost as if he were standing right in front of the Sun itself. So he arches, an attempt to get closer to the body of heat.
Orion's dick drips between both of them, cum stains having been left on Lodi's new clothes a long time ago. Yet the image of his dick leaving that mark on him only makes him grow hotter, hand finally leaving his thighs to instead work on his cock at a slow pace, massaging the head and rubbing on the slit. In return, Orion screams, hands gripping at the back of his cloak as he attempts to have some form of control over himself, hips stuttering with every move.
Lodi is sure he will not last long, eyes closing as he buries his face on the Guardian's neck, a broken moan exiting his throat. He needed this. Before the Nine had taken him, he barely had time for himself, managing to spend time with his family along with his work. He was pent up, and he was very much aware.
It only takes a few more bounces on his cock before Lodi is screaming, hips thrusting up as Orion clenches around him, crying and sobbing as he comes with all his final energy. Orion, feeling him climax, cums right after, a high-pitched whine being barely masked via biting his lip.
Orion scratches at his neck as he comes back down, trying to blink away the last sparks of pleasure out of his vision. The hand near his hair massages the skin there, and good lord, has he always been this tense? All of his muscles feel pulled taut, his body uncomfortable as he finally feels it all at once. The pain, the discomfort, the disorientation. All becoming much more apparent the moment that Orion gets off him, limp cock now flopping against his leg pathetically, spent but happy about a job being well done.
Sadly, as the pleasure drains out of his body, his side begins hurting once more. While all he felt was sore at the beginning now burns, almost as if pure alcohol had been spilled on his injury. He hisses, Orion tilting his head like a lost puppy as he lifts Lodi's clothes to look at the injury.
He's terrified.
The Nine have begun working on making sure there is not a single trace of ever getting injured, skin being mended as if it were nothing but a cloth in need of a patch. They made him have weird dreams, but never like this. He never watched his skin recover from a burn that would have taken ages to properly heal, as if it was nothing but a scratch. And to pour salt into the wound— literally— Orion rests his hand against tender skin, nuzzling against his stubble with a smile.
"Warm," he laughs softly, kissing the corner of Lodi's lips. "It's nice."
Up close, Lodi can see the details of Orion's cloak, fingers brushing against the horns of it. Huh. Perhaps he was wrong. Sure, some guardians looked awful, but Orion seemed to dress… Nice.
"I like your cape," even through thick gloves, he feels the etches of it, fingertips tingling for reasons he does not understand. But he does not question it. Instead, he welcomes the feeling, a soft comfort to distract himself from the blinding pain of his side. "Was it the Titans the ones who were weird?"
"Some of them."
Orion is not a man of words. Lodi has to remind himself of that. Trying to start a conversation would end up in him talking most, but lately, he has found that he does not mind that much. The Guardian is a great listener, and so is his Ghost.
But the reason he is quiet is not because of his usual silence. Instead, it's because he nuzzles against Lodi's neck, breathing slowly, becoming even, and falling asleep right there. It makes Lodi melt. It makes Lodi anxious.
"Orion," he says, shaking the other man, awkwardly laughing. "We should get out of here; the Vex will find us."
Orion lets out something akin to a groan, refusing to face him.
"Please?"
It seems like his pleas are answered when he moves, getting up to put on his pants and give him his glasses back, helping him up once Lodi can see clearly. But instead of being guided anywhere, instead of trying to find Ikora or the Drifter, Orion instead guides him towards a pipe covered by dark matter, sitting him down before he moves to lay next to him.
He's slightly disappointed. At the same time, he cannot blame himself. He's probably exhausted. All Lodi can do is lie next to him, watching his chest rise and fall, jealous about his need to breathe. It's stupid, isn't it? But as jealousy presents its ugly head, there is a sense of fondness resurfacing. The Guardian, the Weapon, Orion. As far as he knows, they fight hard to keep people alive. No breaks, no matter how much they die or get injured. It must be awful.
Getting closer to the sleeping man, Lodi leaves a soft kiss on his forehead, seeing him smile in his slumber.
Now it is his turn. Leaning back until he's comfortable— as comfortable as he can be in the ground—, sighing out a yawn and letting his eyes fall shut, a choir if gentle voices lulling him to a peaceful sleep.