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Chapter Text

The fanfare that greeted the trio as they departed the helo was as wild and enthusiastic as expected.

A veritable hoard of SpecGru operators and handlers crowding in to cheer and offer strings of shouted compliments and open adoration.
Held off from crushing in and delivering dozens of back pats, ass slaps, and high fives by the sheer weight of Graves and his two flanking officers authority alone.

Ceremony was an important factor to all of this, after all.
Letting the winners bask in the attention and loud appreciation without overwhelming their exhausted minds and bodies.
Though the cacophony of voices could be just as claustrophobic as physical touch.

But hey, they were excited.
Who could blame a crowd for going wild when their home team stepped out with a trophy in hand?

It reminded him a little of his football days.

Just off to the side, bouncing on his heels with a grin so wide it almost split his features in half, Soap waited.
Already chomping at the bit to greet his team and praise them for the victory.

If the man had a tail, Graves would have no doubt in his mind that it'd be wagging so hard that he would take off like a chopper.
But he, like everyone else, would have to wait.

Once the blades spun down and the three were within earshot, Graves lifted his hand; little grin playing about his lips as the crowd buttoned up and went mostly silent.

"And here they are!" He laughed, stepping up and meeting the team as they lined up and waited for appraisal.
Two eager grins and three sets of dirty gear making them look every part the winners that they were.

"Ladies! Gentleman. Congratulations on your win!"

He gifted each of them with an open grin and a pat on the shoulder as the cheers kicked up again, making deliberate eye contact as he did so.

Moving past three sets of rich brown eyes.
Two filled with pride.
One glaring at him like they wanted to burn his clothes off.

He suppressed the urge to laugh at the audacity and stepped up to the first of them.
Waiting for the crowd to settle.

"Nova. Kicked some real ass out there girl. Expert Marksman and Scavenger. And let's not forget a proper Jack of All Trades. You stayed quick on your feet, didn't shy away from a fight, took a round for the mission, and pulled off some proper Money Bags shit with those upgrades. LET HER HEAR IT PEOPLE!"

A cheer went up in the crowd as Graves stood beside her, giving her a shoulder nudge as she smiled big and did a fist pump; finishing off her little victory pose by looking over to Kleo and giving her a wink.

Hm. Interesting.
He'd need to remember that for later.

"That's right. Damn fine work. Made a hell of an impression on your new unit. Now, Kleo!"

He moved down the line, placing his hands on her shoulders and meeting her sly grin and lifted chin with an equally proud expression.
Taking note of her at ease stance and air of confidence.

"You kept your fellow soldiers together and stuck to the Team Objective.
Planned expertly, and lived up to your namesake. A goddamn queen on the field.
A resourceful Supplier in the early game, put yourself at risk to do the hard work as a fast thinking Medic, and let's not forget a big bad PYRO with those mines! GIVE HER SOME NOISE!!"

Another cheer exploded through the crowd, operators whistling and clapping as Graves gave her a pat and stepped aside to let her bask and take a proper bow.
Immediately returning to her former posture as he slipped away.
Smiling widely.

Always a professional, that one.

"Damn right! And don't you let her forget it! Now, to our newest handler turned proper operator!"

He let the crowd die down before moving on, a clever little grin playing at his lips as he stood in front of the man.
Immediately taking in the way Ghosts eyes locked onto him with open expectation.

"You've been off the field for two years now, and I won't mince words, there was room for improvement. But you didn't let the setbacks put you down. As expected, you proved yourself to be a Surviver. A Killer in the early game. An Assassin to the end. And above all else, you lived up to your namesake as the Ghost."
He leaned in a little, lowering his voice a bit and raising an eyebrow.
"And don't think for a second I missed that fine ass takedown in the smoke. Your idea?"

"Kleo's."

"But followed to the letter. I respect a man who can take an order."

If he happened to catch sight of the way Ghosts chin lifted a little in pride, and he absolutely did, he didn't mention it.

With a pat on the shoulder he raised is voice again.

"You worked well with your new team and bagged the win, Lieutenant! I never doubted you for a second! What do we think folks? HE DO GOOD TODAY?"

He didn't turn away as the crowd erupted once more; Soap's own voice ringing above the others and giving away just how much he still favored his LT.

Instead, he allowed the man to hold his gaze.
Watching closely with a pleased expression as Ghosts eyes flicked to the hand that was still on his shoulder and then back up to continue that burning stare down.
Tilting his head down a little as Graves leaned in again while the cacophony of sound created a buffer.
Mouth dangerously close to his cheek as he slid his hand to the back of a covered neck.
Squeezing a little to make sure he understood not to pull back.

Matching that intensity.

Watching as Ghost followed the line of his movement from the corner of his eyes.

It was a bold move, touching him like this in the open.
A calculated risk that would be read by most as an overly friendly commander showing just the barest hint of favoritism, or maybe having some passing conversation and wanting to make sure it was heard by the man over the ruckus.

To others who knew better?

It was an open claim on him in front of far too many eyes.
Soaps included.

A power play of sorts.
One that telegraphed a sense of closeness between the two for anyone pausing to actually observe.

One he couldn't resist.

"You impressed me today, Simon." He murmured, letting his grin turn openly wolfish as he caught the slight stiffening of the man's shoulders. "And you strike me as the type of man who likes to celebrate quietly. Would that be correct?"

Even with the cloth that covered his face from scalp to collarbone, Graves could easily spy the slight flex of him swallowing.
And he could absolutely feel the tension in the man's muscles as he dug his fingers in.

He was gifted with a single, almost impossible to see, nod.
A little acknowledgment that he was eager to go after Graves unspoken promise of a prize.

There was a funny thing about men who wore masks.

See, if a fella was the type to only ever wear them while working, it usually didn't alter the way he expressed himself.
Most people didn't see the barrier as anything other than what it was.
Just another piece of gear.
A tactic.
Something temporary.
There and gone again before they even knew it.

As a result, their poker face was usually pretty solid.
They knew that their faces would be put on full display again, once the mission was over, and didn't let the security of anonymity sway them for too long after it was discarded.

They might be a little more exaggerated when it was on, sure, but after?
Just right back to being a normal person.

Like it was never there at all.

But a man who never removed his?
Now that was an entirely different story.

Emotions, normally so readable, were easily hidden for him.
Unable to be picked up on by the average onlooker due to the fact that he always had a shield to obscure the tells.

He could let people make assumptions and play off them casually.
Never giving away the depth of the human below its covering to any passerby.
Let alone an enemy.

No need to worry if a twitch of the eye or a tug at the lips would be openly telegraphed for all to see.
No need to fear that people would spy a grimace or sweat on the brow if something unnerved the senses.
No need to ever consider if he was on display not.

Because he wasn't.

He was hidden and unknown at all times.
A slammed closed book with a padlock on the cover.
The mask was his face, after all.
And that face never moved an inch.
Made the man as unknowable as the deepest depths of the ocean.

That's how they saw it, anyway.

But the thing men like Ghost forgot was... they had a real mug sitting below that hard polymer and fabric.
One that slowly but surely forgot what it felt like to not display its inner thoughts openly.
Forgot how to emote in ways that were normal.

Affects and responses needing to be given via the body and the voice to get the point across.
So why worry about the face?

Or sure, it was harder to read.
And a voice could easily be controlled and remain flat to prevent a give away.

But that illusion of protection made the guard drop sometimes.
Made it so the right kind of person could see through the gaps and take in the subtle give aways that an open face could more expertly hide.

To a man like Graves... Ghost's mask had a screaming neon sign just beneath its surface.
One that shouted out to him as loudly as the crowd at his back.

Slight knitting in the brows.
Pupils blowing open.
A creep of pink around the edges of the opening around his eyes.

Eyes that were hooded.
Eyes that were laser focused.
Eyes that flicked for a moment between his own.
Then down to the line of his neck, where a bandage obscured a deep welt of teeth marks and bruising.
Eyes that snapped back up the moment they realized they were lingering.
Eyes that burned with a deep need to prove something.

Graves had been complimentary, but his honesty about Ghosts weaker performance compared to Nova and Kleo was a slap to his hidden face.
And the hint of praise, though also honest, served as a lit match to a bucket of gasoline.

He was pleased that Graves was proud.
But that teeny little drip of 'not quite good enough' had him breathing smoke.

Practically burning alive with the need to drag Graves aside and make a proper show of himself.
Maybe aim to take out some of his insecurities on his body and make his Commander regret that honesty.

Snap down those jaws into screaming flesh.

Punish him for daring to deny him a proper treat.

Good. Graves liked a challenge.

He slid his hand down, bracing it against Ghosts upper back and turned with an, admittedly, hammed up flourish; big ol' smile plastered over his face like he'd just won the whole damn game himself.

"Ladies, gents! Your Warzone Champions!"

The officers exchanged a look, and then stepped aside, letting the crowding operators finally rush forward to meet the three head on with congratulations and excitement.
Surrounding the trio and all but lifting two of them in the air as they chanted and cheered.

Ghost only being spared by the presence of his Commander.

But not for long.

Graves nodded to him, pulled his hand away before several operators closed in like vultures, and stepped aside.
Shoulder bumping with Soap as he moved past to beeline for Ghost and clap him on the shoulder.
Words drowned out by the rest of the soldiers as they all clambered to give praise and make plans for whatever wild celebration was going to happen tonight.

He had some plans of his own to make.

Something fun for his eager and worked up pet.

Perhaps some whisky?
Ghost seemed to enjoy the drink.

And Graves was a little curious to see what a touch of inebriation would do to those tightly leashed inhibitions of his.

He made it all of ten feet off the tarmac before a tight grip on his bicep yanked him back, startling him and making him turn to see who had the nerve to try such a thing.

Ghost.

Glaring down.
Breathing hard.
Already looking like he was on the verge of snapping.

Hm. Now that was interesting.
He knew the man hated crowds, but what could have made him...?

A quick glance was all it took.

Soap.
Still visible just past his rapidly rising and falling shoulder.
Standing amongst the crowd with his hand still slightly outstretched and puzzled look on his face as he watched the two.
Brow furrowing as he glanced away and tried to parse out the sudden abandonment.

Oh?

Oh... this was too good.

Graves didn't even try to hide his giddy grin.

"Lieutenant?"

"Commander."

"Something on your mind?"

"Yes, sir."

Already using the honorific?
They weren't even away from prying eyes yet.

Screw good!
This was absolutely beautiful!

If Graves was a less put together sort of man, he might have mimicked Nova's little fist pump from earlier.

God it was good to be him sometimes!

He flicked his eyes past the man's shoulder again, watching as Soap dropped his hand and turned back towards the other two winners, resuming his cheer and shouldering past the other operators and handlers to greet them head on and offer his congratulations.

Moment put aside, but not forgotten.

Always could shrug off an awkward situation, that one.

Good. It meant all eyes were off of them.

Meant he didn't need to be subtle.

"Well then. How about we go discuss it privately while the others party?"

---

The local bar was absolutely packed to the brim with soldiers.
Standing room only and loud with the sounds of celebration as bartenders worked in teams to get out drinks and take requests for greasy and likely microwaved food.
Calling out orders and collecting tips with laughing smiles that looked just a hair past exhausted.

They'd make good money tonight, but it didn't mean the work would be easy.

SpecGru, and even some members of KorTac, were mingling, dancing, arguing, joking, playing pool, and God only knew what else.
Music thudding loudly to add to the voices and making Johnny's ears ring in the best and worst way.

He did his best to keep up with the banter and lively atmosphere.
Cheering along with some of the operators as Nova climbed a table and continued her belting reprise of 'Pocket full of Sunshine' on the karaoke machine.

The whole place smacked of a collage party post a big game win.

Everyone getting too drunk and acting too stupid.
Finally blowing off steam after weeks of preparations and fully knowing that they'd be plagued with hangovers and nausea the next morning.

It felt good.

The camaraderie, the excitement, the pride.
All of it swimming in his head as the scotch warmed his belly and giving the air a balmy high that stole away his woes.

Everyone alive and electric with pure energy and reverie.

A well deserved blow out to usher in another few months of calmer work before it all started up again.

He downed the rest of his drink as the song closed out and joined in with the uproar of cheering; laughing as Nova took a bow and almost fell off the table, Kleo rushing in to catch her and help her down and obviously chastise the guffawing woman.

Letting herself be embraced as she dragged her teammate off to a corner table and waved down one of the harried looking waitresses for water and coffee.

Cute.

He set his glass down a little too heavily and waved off the offers of more alcohol as he pushed himself up.
The free drinks were nice, but he was getting a few too many in and he needed some air.

Tonight had been so damn fun, but...
Well, Johnny wasn't exactly old, but he wasn't a spring chicken anymore.
The drawback of being in his thirties now was that he couldn't exactly sleep off drinking an entire bottle and half like he used to.
Amongst other things.

If he didn't stop now, he'd pay the price in the morning.

After a few more minutes of joking and playful punches, he managed to shoulder his way towards the back exit, stumbling out into the alley and leaning against the cold brick wall as the door swung shut behind him and muffled the chatter inside.

He exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair.
Tipsy grin plastered on his face as he fished out a pack of smokes that had been tossed at his head earlier in the night.

Lighting one up and inhaling deeply.

Hn. Menthol. Not great.
But the little hint of coolness to the smoke made the night air hit a little more nicely as it burned his lungs.

Today had been... Well... Fucking awesome.

Johnny was no stranger to having his teams make it to the top three, but the fact that the most ragtag of his two had stolen such a flashy win was a pretty big ego boost.

Nova was finally being seen for the badass she was.
Kleo was living up to her reputation as a strategist.
And Ghost-

Johnny exhaled the minty smoke slowly and furrowed his brows.

Ghost had been... Odd.

Not off, exactly.
Hell, he'd even been pretty friendly during the entirety of the game.
Even took the down with stride.
But the way he behaved after landing back on facility grounds was nagging at him.

Not only had he allowed Graves to put his hands all over him, in a public setting no less, but the way he practically shoved Johnny aside to chase after him...

It hadn't seemed out of character at first.
Too stiff and tense as the others came in to chatter at him.
Eyes a bit out of focus as he did his best to drown out the noise.
Looking as stoic as ever in spite of the suffocating bodies.
Antisocial but accommodating as he could be.
As Ghost as he ever was.
The fact that he put up with the crowd at all was a sign that he was in a pretty good mood.

Hell, he even let Johnny clap a hand on his shoulder just like he used to.

He'd been beaming at the man, halfway through saying how proud he was, that Ghost had done well.
Laughing and trying to joke as an old sense of warmth and excitement made him forget, for just a moment, how awkward things had been between them lately.

But then...

He got less than a glance.

Brown eyes looking like they were aiming to burn a hole through his skull and making Johnny pause before flicking away to a new target and growing more intense.

Then that shoulder was being wrenched out of his hand.
Ghost bowling past him to charge after the Commander.
Physically grabbing the man and speaking to him in hushed voices as Johnny just stood there with a startled look on his face.

He honestly thought Ghost was aiming to beat the man half to death until he caught Graves almost excited looking grin.

That bugged him too.
But he couldn't parse out why.

Something about the way the prick had momentarily locked eyes with him before leaning in and whispering.

The tight draw of Ghosts shoulders...

There was something more there.
Something important.
Johnny just didn't know what.

He brushed it off quick, of course.
Ghost did what he wanted.
And Johnny wanted to join in on praising the women who had carried them to the win with their quick thinking and badass behavior.

But something still sat just left of center in Johnny's brain about it all.

There was a moment... Just a small one... where Johnny thought he saw a glimpse of mad desperation in the LTs eyes.

Something that reminded him of a starving animal catching sight of food for the first time in months.
Or maybe years.

A rabid sort of intent that couldn't be put to words.

He was buzzing a little too much at the moment to really be able to untangle it, but it kept nagging at him like an angry wasp.

It was familiar, what had passed between those two.
Intense.
Like he'd seen it somewhere before, but couldn't remember the time or place.
And damnit he wasn't sober enough to understand why or what it reminded him of.

He might have untangled it a bit with enough time, but the sudden swing of the back door and a large frame hurrying out into the alley to join him startled him from the line of thought.

König bracing his palms against the metal door, as if trying to prevent someone from following after him, and immediately straightening up as he caught sight of the glowing ember at the end of a cigarette.

"Johnny."

Before he could even reply, König was sweeping him into a crushing embrace and pressing his face into his neck.
Thick arms forcing air and smoke out of his lungs as he wheezed out a laugh and patted his back.

"It is awful in there, my Johnny. So many people."

He sounded pretty drunk. Poor bastard.

König was pretty good at handling crowds most days, but the packed environment could easily overwhelm even the most stalwart of men if they didn't like public settings.

"That bad, big guy?"

"Worse! There was this woman! She grabbed my ass Johnny! She called me 'cute'!"

He did his best not to snort out a barking laugh as he braced his palms against Königs chest and did his best to get some breathing room.

Previous thoughts all but banished as he wrapped his arms around broad shoulders and moved to press his cheek to Königs face.

"Oh really now? You been flirting with tag chasers while I'm off having a smoke? Dirty man."

He was being a little mean, admittedly, König was the one who clearly got himself chased, and he was incredibly keen to keep their little situation an exclusive thing.
But Johnny was pretty tipsy right now, and for some reason seeing this big, bad, and normally very put together man clinging to him and looking like a scared rabbit actually made him feel kind of playful.

It didn't help his better sense when König wrenched back and practically stuttered over some German phrase or another that Johnny couldn't hope to parse out.
Shaking him a little as he stared with wide eyes and practically cracked their skulls together as he went in for that sweet little forehead press they always indulged in.

"Easy, easy!" He laughed, nuzzling at the man and enjoying the way he was clinging juuust a little too much, "I can't understand what the flying fuck your saying."

"I- forgive me. She was so forward, and when I looked over to seek help you were already gone- I do not like when people grab at me-"

"I know. I know Kö. I've got you."

He let his half burned cigarette drop to the concrete behind König and tangled his hand into the man's hair, scratching at his scalp a little.
A grin tugging at his lips as the larger man huffed and closed his eyes.

"I thought you left without me, Johnny..."

Awww.

God it must've been the alcohol softening Johnny up, because that was the cutest shit he'd ever heard.
He was half tempted to start kissing the stupid giants cheek in response.

"Nah. Just needed some air."

"We should have stayed on base. I wanted to celebrate in private with you."

"Aw, hey, it's alright. The night is young, and we've still got time."

He gave the big man a gentle pat on the back, moving his hand down to gently brace against his spine and anchor him in place as he continued to play with his hair.
A little way to help ease his adorable little state of stress.

Oh yeah.
Johnny definitely like this side of him.

"Can we... Can we leave? I am a little overwhelmed."

"Yeah, we can go. Can call us a cab or somethin'."

"Thank you, my Johnny..."

A gentle brush of lips against his cheek startled him a little.
Warm press of a grateful kiss fogging out his thoughts as the larger man melted against him and pressed him back against the wall.

It was such a small thing.
Hardly new.
König had done something similar their first night together, though it had been a soft press to his hair and not his face.

But the feeling of warm lips and a firm body against him as the alcohol burned in his stomach made for a strangely potent mix.
His body was already responding to the out of place tenderness with a mind of its own and making him fumble for his phone a bit less skillfully than he intended.

The line of it slipping out of his fingers just as he managed to get it free of his jeans.
Distracted by the soft presses as they started to move southward and along his neck.
Little pecks suddenly turning into open mouthed kisses that became messier and more needy as König went along.
Less startling than the previous intimacy, but absolutely making his current 'issue' immediately worse.

He was definitely as tipsy as Johnny was right now, if not worse.

Normally the idea of doing something like this so publicly, especially when members of their own teams could stumble out and see, was something that was almost always kept firmly off the table.
But the way König was suddenly hiking a knee up between his thighs and moving to bite down over his scar made it all too clear that rules were the furthest thing from his mind.

Which meant... Shit... Johnny had to be the responsible one right now, huh?

Not the worst fate in the world.
At least he'd be able to keep indulging in this cuter side of his hulking playmate.

He tried his best not to grip too tight on König's hair as the did his damndest to grind his thigh against Johnny's already aching crotch.
Making him hiss out a little between his teeth as he attempted to keep his good sense and tug him back enough to detach that suddenly hungry mouth.

"What happened to wanting to leave?"

He didn't get a reply.
Just a sound.
A rich and low sound that purred against his chest like the low groan of an oak trying not to bow under a gale force wind.

Hands shifting down to grab at his hips and make them start riding along his thigh properly.

"F- fuck- careful-"

His warning didn't seem to deter the man in the slightest.

Large chest pressing more firmly against his own and pinning him in place as hot breath fanned over his ear.

"Want you, my Johnny... Please... I need to feel you right now..." He did his best not to shudder as a warm tongue licked at his lobe, followed by teeth, "I was left alone with that woman... She touched me, Johnny. I only want you to touch me... Help me... Make it better? Please...?"

His voice sounded so desperate.
A hint of a pleading whine so clear in his voice that it actually might have been a whimper.

Had König ever acted like this before?
Clingy and soft and almost submissive?
Begging for Johnny to chase away the anxiety and make him feel good?

He couldn't recall.

But one thing was very certain.

They needed a motel. Now.

---

Two steps.
That's how many he managed to take before the door to his quarters slammed loudly behind him and strong hands grabbed at his body.

Snaking around to yank up his shirt and shove against the hard line of his abdomen with clear and lascivious intent.

The rough fabric of Ghosts gloves making him startle and tense as he was yanked back against an, as of yet, un-discarded tac vest.
The clinking trinkets he'd stocked himself with snagging against Graves shirt and scraping his back.

"Eager already, Lieutenant?"

A low sound came as a reply.
Rough and raspy and far too hungry.
Something less like a man and more like a beast that wanted to devour its prey.

Intent so clear in its note that it actually made goosebumps break out along Graves skin.

Whatever games he'd been hoping to play during their time together were clearly not going to be heeded today.
And he wasn't quite sure if he was thrilled at the idea or a little concerned.

Maybe both?

"You know, usually people celebrate with a drink firs-"

"Was thinking about you."

Oh... That made his stomach knot a little too tightly.
His little laughing tease dying instantly as one of those hands shoved up higher to paw at his chest and squeeze far too roughly.

"T- that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Anything in particular?"

Another low sound as a reply.
Hardly informative.
But he didn't even have time to reprimand the man before the feeling of a tongue, hot and wet against the back of his neck, scattered his thoughts to the wind like dust in a storm.

When had Ghost lifted his mask?
Did he do it when he shut the door?
He wasn't even instructed to do so.
What the hell was he trying to do?

The rumbling groan against his back certainly didn't let him consider it further.
Neither did the exploring fingers that found his nipple and tugged roughly at it,
making him jolt and let out an involuntary noise.

His hand snapped up, grabbing hard at Ghosts wrist to try and halt the movement.
But it didn't seem to deter the hungry thing that was currently hellbent on tormenting him.

"Put that stupid bastard in the dirt for you, sir."
He sounded less and less like a man as he spoke those words against Graves neck, his voice so low and near growling that it inspired images of something monstrous and threatening pressed against his back; hot breath fanning over the wet trail that had been left behind and making him shudder.
"Wanted you to see it. Wanted you to look at me again."

He sounded like he was barely restraining himself from shoving Graves down and fucking him into the carpet.

"You uh- certainly made an impression Lieute- fuck!"

A sharp twist and a harsh tug cut off his words, making his chest sting.
A startled hiss leaving through gritted teeth at the pain as he felt the press of something hard again this ass.

Like Ghost was trying to stop him from speaking with some kind of punishment.

Fucker had some nerve.

"Name."

"What?"

"Say it. Need to hear it."

Demanding little shit, wasn't he?

"Ghost-"

Another twist, another hard tug, another hiss leaving him as Ghost practically purred in his ear, dragging his tongue along the shell of it and drawing out another shudder.

"Name." He said it more firmly this time, like an order.

A goddamn order.

"I don't know what you think- shit- s-stop that!"

It felt like he was trying to rip the thing off.
Stinging his nipple with a harsh yank and accenting it with more of that insistent dry humping.
A low laugh sounding against his skin like a taunt before the man spoke a gravely reply into his ear.

"Bad answer."

Something cold splashed over the fire in his belly.

"Excuse me?"

Another low chuckle, another sharp tug of his nipple, more hissing breath.

And anger.
Boiling fucking anger.

He recognized what the man was doing now.

Did he really think it would be that easy to cow his Commander?
As if the mind games they played were just silly little words that could be easily replicated?
Did Ghost think he was so easy to break down!?

"I said... Bad. Answer. Sir."

Another sharp tug, and that damn tongue returning to lick a stripe over the side of his throat, teeth finding the bandage and biting down over it to tear it away.
Like an animal ripping off a piece of flesh.

"You're not playing the game right. Hardly a good effort for someone like you, hm?"

"Ghost if you don't st- AH- F-uck!!"

Teeth bit down. Slotting against the already sore mark that still marred Graves flesh, stinging painfully as the other hand joined in to grab roughly at his other nipple and yank it just as harshly.

Low hum of delight sounding from the bastard as he indulged himself in trying to punish his Commander.

He detached as Graves panted, head dropping a little as those brutal hands eased up, a set of fingers rolling one of the sore peaks with clear threat.

"Bad. Answer. Phillip."

It was.

But it wasn't Graves who'd spoken poorly.
And Ghost was about to learn that fact the hard way if he had any say about it.

Control was a fickle and demanding bitch, after all.
She liked to be stolen.
Liked to watch a man fall as she laughed at his startled and shrinking face.
She liked to watch failure.

And Graves was anything but a fucking failure.

The piss poor attempt at using his own conditioning against him was more than insulting.
It suddenly threw the fact that this bastard was yanking control out of his hands into sharp relief.

Making a mockery of his authority with sharp bite and painful pinches.
Making him into the pet when he was anything but.

Not. A. Fucking. Chance.

He moved fast, not even pausing to consider the consequences as a hard elbow slammed back. Finding the gap between the straps of the tac vest and earning a satisfying grunt from Ghost.

He wrenched those damned hands away, slamming his back into the hard body behind him catching the Lieutenant off guard, making him stumble.
Forcing him to grip at a fine pressed shirt to try and catch himself.
The fabric gave way under the strain, buttons snapping from their stitching and clattering to the floor as he rounded on the man and planted a boot in his chest.
Feeling a swell of satisfaction as he hit the door and sagged.

Now, to be honest, Graves wasn't a violent man. Not usually.

Violence was a tool that needed use in the correct situations.
Something to be kept sparing in order to make the impact of it hit all the harder when it came slamming down onto the head of the idiot who wouldn't take words as enough of an answer.

But, he was also a particular sort of man.
One that didn't take disrespect.

Not anymore.

Not. Ever. Again.

Graves spent so many years of his life, spilled so much blood, and crawled through unimaginable shit to sit in the position of power that he did now.
Far too much to allow someone else to give him commands.

He was not the fucking dog here.

He was the one who gave the god damned orders.

In less than the span of a heartbeat, Graves was on Ghost. Slamming him back against the door by his shoulder as he tried to push himself up; wrenching the stolen knife free of his vest and pressing it tight to his throat. Glaring.
A sneer plastered across his normally pleasant and well controlled expression.

"You trying to piss me off, Simon!?"

He was expecting surprise, a hint of fear, perhaps shock, or maybe even just a scowl from the man he threatened.
Something that would make it clear his less than reserved, and significantly less than rational, warning was getting through.
Make him cower and learn his place in all this.

Instead, he was met with something that startled him half to death and made a strange and twisting heat claw up from deep within him.

A smile.

A fucking smile.

Sharp toothed and so unbelievably genuine that it almost looked like a completely different person was looking back at him.
Molten bronze staring back with pure delight as Ghost slowly lifted his hands.
Shoulders shaking with silent and barely held in laughter.

Looking so unbelievably pleased with himself.
Like he'd just won the goddamn lottery.

"If you want to kill me, sir, you'd do better with a real knife."

Funny thing about men who wore masks.
They didn't know how to hide their real feelings.

The message was so impossibly clear.
Written all over that smug and half covered face.

Right now... Ghost was feeling... Giddy.
Thrilled.
Excited...

This... Fucking... Bastard.

He'd goaded him.

Tricked him into snapping.

Maybe Ghost hadn't expected such a violent response, sure, but he knew he was going to get something in return for his obvious ploy.

He'd used Graves own ego and need for dominance against him.
Making a mockery of their usual game to get exactly what he wanted.

Apparently he hadn't been the only one paying close attention during their little mind game sessions.

Ghost had nailed down his weakness.

And worse.
Graves had slipped up and given the man a treat right in the middle of his threat.

A win.

His name.

One of those gloved hands snapped down to snatch at his waistband and yank him closer, Ghosts- no... Simons- eyes wandering down the line of his body and over his exposed chest with clear hunger.
Not even caring that the blunted metal pressed harder against his throat in warning as he ground himself against the crotch of Graves pants.

"Not that I mind. Dull knife is more dangerous than a sharp one... Can do so much more damage in the right hands."

Oh... Shameful him.

He'd forgotten the reality of this situation.
Forgotten the cardinal rule that came with leashing a predator to his side.

You didn't tame a beast.
Especially one as feral and carnivorous as Simon.

You entered into an agreement with it.
Gave it what it wanted in exchange for its teeth and claws and loyalty.
You fed it so it wouldn't dine on your flesh instead.

It heeded the call because good behavior came with a met desire.

And right now, this thing that was groaning low and tugging open his belt wanted something that Phillip could easily provide.

A struggle.

A dance of power.

Or at least, the illusion of one.

And better still... It wanted to be beaten back and forced to submit.

Not with words or clever schemes.
But with strength.

Proof that the leash was well earned.

Clever little brat.

He might have recognized it sooner if he wasn't so busy putting on a show and planning for more mind games.

His hand moved like a flash of lightning, shifting from a strong shoulder to a rolling hip and shoving it back hard against the door.
Stalling its movements and earning a pleased sound.

A hungry sound.

A slow and eager grin playing at Phillips lips as he clicked the image together.

Plans shifting in his mind as he dropped the veneer of professionalism and let himself meet those unyielding eyes with a heated look of his own.

"Your going to regret doing that, Simon."

"Promise?"

It's been a while since he'd properly put a brat in its place.

This was going to be fun.

---

Firm hands carefully pressed down on strong hips, making them settle onto the bed with a small huff as König squirmed and reached for him.

Johnny doing his best to keep him still as the larger man leaned up and tried to drag him down into another impossible to escape embrace.

"My Johnny... I want to touch you."

He sounded so damn cute right now.
Like a whiney little bottom rather than a living mountain who could easily kick a hole through a man's chest.
Grabbing at Johnny's own hips and trying to tug him closer with weepy and pretty eyes.

Did he always get so adorable when he drank?
It was actually a bit jarring to witness.

He wanted to give into those demands of his, but a frustrating thread of noble intent had managed to snake its way through Johnny's mind as they were driven to the motel.

As much as he wished he could toss his good sense out the window, he couldn't allow himself to take advantage of the man right now.
They hadn't discussed whether having sex while drunk was ok or not.

He didn't want König to wake up the next day feeling ashamed as well as hung over.

"Kö, you're too drunk. We can't right now."

"You are as well. It is alright."

"No, it isn't you daft-"

He didn't get much further in his chiding.

The words getting cut off as König batted his pushing hands aside and yanked him down with such force that Johnny lost his balance and landed hard against the big oafs chest.
Thighs moving up to trap him between them and strong arms wrapping around his upper body to hold him in place.

Hair immediately being met with a nuzzling face as a happy little noise rumbled against his chest.

If he were a little more sober he might have scrambled to push himself up and go back to being the responsible party. But, tragically, the alcohol had done its work.
So instead he just laughed, turning his face to rest against the warm body and accept his snuggly fate.

Not like he had a choice right now anyway.

"Fucking cuddle bug you are."

"Mn."

God this was so cute.

"How much did you have?"

"Have?"

Johnny peeked up from the slowly rising and falling mound of Königs chest, raising an eyebrow and trying to suppress his grin as he was met with a tilted head and a furrowed brow.

"Alcohol. How much did you drink?"

"Two."

That gave him pause.
Two?
As in, two drinks?
That was it?
Johnny had easily indulged in twice that much tonight and wasn't even half as off kilter as König was acting.
Was he a lightweight?

"Must've been pretty strong then, you seem pretty loopy right now."

"No."

"No?"

"I did not overindulge, I just wanted enough for tonight."

THAT absolutely made Johnny stop short.
Enough for tonight?
What did that mean?
Enough to enjoy the celebration?
Enough to get a light buzz and loosen up?
Enough to-

"I thought it might help things hurt less."

More confusion.

Johnny moved a little, doing his best to raise up against the absolute bear hug that König had him in, so he could look at the man properly.
Trying and get the pieces sorted out through the mild haze of booze.

"König. Mate. What're you talking about?"

"A gift."

König's hold loosened a little.
Firm hands smoothing down Johnny's back and strong thighs pressing a little harder against his hips.
A little creep of startlingly shy looking heat moving up the larger man's face as he flitted his eyes away and-

Oh.

Something firm.

A hard line pressing against Johnny's own crotch through his jeans.
Something he hadn't even registered until this exact moment.

Right. He'd almost forgotten that little display the man had put on back in the alley.

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning in to bump his forehead to Königs and pat his side with a free hand.

"Bit hard for us to get into it in this position. And we're still buzzed. I don't-"

"Our position is fine."

"König, you're not listening, we-"

"I spent the morning getting ready."

Ready?

"It is the first time you have won the games since we began this. I wanted to surprise you with something new. I have only done it once before, and it was not... pleasant... but..."

One of his knees lifted a little, drawing his leg up to more easily rest over the curve of Johnny's hip, hands pressing down against his lower back to bring them impossibly closer.
A small flicker of something completely unfamiliar crossing his features as he tried to glance back up and meet Johnny's eyes.

"... I trust you."

Johnny's eyes blew wide as the words seemed to finally click through the haze, his body lurching up and hands awkwardly bracing on Königs chest to prevent him from losing his balance.

He-

He wanted to-

Now of all times!?

They hadn't even discussed it!

"What!?"

He didn't miss the little flicker of amusement at his startled response.
Those damn insistent fingers digging a little into the small of his back to keep him in place as his hips rolled up a little to tease.

"You claimed to have more experience with the notion during our first night together."

"I- I mean- yes- but you- when did you decide- that's not-"

"Are you displeased with the idea?"

Johnny stuttered to an awkward halt, trying his best to find the words.

Of course he wasn't.
The thought alone was enough to get him excited and ready to rip his damn jeans off.
But that wasn't the issue.

They'd been drinking.
They hadn't talked this out.
And, for as much as Johnny enjoyed the pain side of what they did, he didn't want to risk hurting König; especially when he didn't know for certain whether or not that was something he enjoyed too.

He wanted to express all that somehow.
Explain that he was most certainly on board, and was even flattered at the offer.
That he was fully willing to do whatever it took to make this something they'd both love.

He also wanted to explain that they should wait.
Get clearer heads on first.
Talk it out and work out a way to keep this safe and comfortable for him.
König always made sure that Johnny was ok with everything that happened, every step of the way, no matter what.

He always paid such close attention. Gauged, checked in, discussed things, was so damned ridged and rule oriented.

A bonafide saint that Johnny often felt like he didn't deserve.

He wanted to do the same.
Be the same.
Handle this with the kind of care and respect that the situation deserved.
Treat this man like the beautiful fucking bastard he was.

How could he do that when they were both liquored up and high on the night's festivities?

He tried to sound it out, make it clear, express his fears and excitement.
Tried to find some way to put it in words that were gentle and easy to understand.

Unfortunately, all he could come up with in his muddled and racing mind was:
"This is a bad idea."

And Christ did he want to punch himself in the face for it.

The moment the words left him, Königs grin faltered.
Tight press of his hands dulling a little and pulling away as his eyes moved off to the side of Johnny's head.
A look of disappointment or maybe shame crossing his features as he all but deflated.

"I... I see."

Shit. No! That- he didn't mean like that!

"No, no, hey- don't pull away on me."

He scooted up awkwardly, bracing a hand beside the larger man's head and using his other to gently tilt his face back towards his own.
Trying his best to get Königs glum expression to meet his own concerned one.
His pulse hammering in his ears as his stomach twisted up with a hint of unfamiliar anxiety.

"I'm not saying I don't want to, alright. I do. God help me I do. But we're-"

"Drunk."

Christ, did he have to sound so flat and disappointed?

"Yes. And I don't want to risk fucking this all up because I'm too deep in the bottle. I don't even know how much experience you have in this sort of thing."

König let out an oddly churlish huff, the sound of it so out of place on his lips that it actually made Johnny blink in surprise as his hand was pushed away.
A small glare cutting him down to size as a follow up.

"I have done it once before. I am not some weeping virgin that needs coddling, Johnny."

König pushed himself up onto his elbows, placing a hand on Johnny's chest to move him back a bit, a genuine look of irritation crossing his normal controlled and calm features.

"I would not have offered myself like this if I believed I could not handle it. I wanted to offer you a gift. Something I would not dare trust to another. If you do not want me in such a way, then say so!"

Johnny was genuinely stunned by the reaction.

Of all the things he might have predicted happening between them... a full on booze fueled role reversal was nowhere near the top of his list.

Was this what it felt like when he acted bitchy?

This sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he'd done something wrong?
Like he needed to do whatever he could to correct the situation and make the other understand?
And all while trying to toe the line of keeping this safe and sane for them both?

Fuck...
If this was even half of what König had to deal with during their games then-

The palm against his chest pushed him up a little more harshly, large body moving to try and get out of the bed.

Leaving.

König was actually trying to leave.

On instinct his own snapped up, pressing against it and keeping the hand in place. Making the other man pause and knit his brows together in irritation.

"König-"

"It is fine.

"No, it's not." He squeezed a little, hoping to whatever God was listening that he'd be able to articulate his whirling emotions. "If the roles were reversed, you wouldn't let me walk away from this. You'd want to talk about it. So m'not letting you run off."

"You do not want this, there is nothing to speak on."

For fuck sake.

"Do you actually believe that?"

"Yes."

For FUCK SAK-

No.

Stop.

Breathe.

He's hurt right now.

Facing rejection for the first time in this dynamic.

Like it or not, Johnny needed to slam a lid on whatever bubbling frustration was trying to spill over and force him to overreact.

If this really was a swap of their usual roles, intentional or unintentional, he needed to play his part.

He needed to be understanding.
Like König always was.

He inhaled, counted, pressed down on the palm against his chest a little more firmly, exhaled.

See it from his perspective.
Step into his shoes.
Find the knot and untangle it.

"Alright..." He sighed, scooting closer as König's legs untangled from his own and heavy boots thudded against the floor.

Johnny didn't move to stop him

He wouldn't risk repeating the same mistake that had happened back in the medbay.

"König, please. I need you to work with me alright?"

Work through it.
Understand.
And don't be an asshole about it.

Step one. Empathy.
Johnny needed to see his side of things and make it clear that he understood where the man was coming from.

"You wanted to surprise me, right? Give me something that you knew I wanted?"

Alright. Bit of an awkward start, but a start none the less.

"So... If I'm hearing you right, you moved ahead with a plan that we didn't discuss first because you know I like trying new things. You thought this would make me happy, am I right?"

König didn't reply.
Just kept his hard gaze on the floor like he was trying to burn a hole into the carpet.

"Hey..."

Johnny moved slowly, doing his best to keep his trembling hands steady as he cupped König's jaw and worked to guide the man's face towards him without using pressure.

"Don't shut me out. I need to know I'm on the right track. We can keep it simple, a yes or no is all I need, ok?"

König's bitter expression didn't fade in the least, but he was making eye contact.
That was enough.

A long pause passed between them, Königs shuttering lids making it clear he was trying to not look away again.

"... Yes."

"Alright. Good. We're getting somewhere."

He made himself inhale and exhale slowly again, trying to put on a gentle and understanding smile.

"And, if I'm reading this right... You think that because I'm not responding with absolute positivity, that I'm saying no?"

Another long pause. Königs jaw flexing against his fingers.

"... Yes."

"And because you think I'm saying no, you're hurt. You think that I'm rejecting you and not the situation."

"Yes."

Alright. This was good.
The context was voiced.

Now came the next step. Understanding.
Picking apart the clues in order to better dissect what König was saying underneath the spoken words.

That was a bit harder.

Johnny was, at his core, a rather self centered individual.
Often considering his own feelings and motivations before anyone else's.
He could tell you every single component that made up a ticking time bomb, but asking him to read between lines was a little more of a tooth pull.

But lack of understanding didn't always mean a lack of care.
Just that he needed clearer answers.

So, he probed, carefully.
Starting with the part that caught his attention earlier.

"You said you didn't want this to hurt, that you've done this once before and it wasn't pleasant... If you're ok with it, can you give me a little more information?"

He needed to know the motivation behind all this.
Not the offer, but the reason it had been placed on the table in the way it was.

He kept silent as König looked away again, letting the man draw his face out of his palm but not releasing his hand.
Keeping it in place so he could feel Johnny's pulse.
Hoping that it would help keep him calm as he spoke.

"I... Do not wish to speak of that day."

Alright.
Not great, but he wasn't going to pry open that potential wound.

"That's ok. I won't make you. Is it ok if I rephrase what I'm asking?"

He was met with a nod.
So he pushed forward.

"You said you trust me. That you're willing to do this because you thought I would want it... I want to know why you want this. I want to know why you felt the need to keep it a secret and wait until we were boozed up to make the offer."

König's hand flexed against his chest, fingers digging in to hold fast and seek more contact.
A good sign, maybe?
He wasn't trying to pull away again.
So surely that meant they were getting somewhere?

The word that came next, however, immediately banished his hopefulness.

"... Medbay."

Oh...

Shit...

Despite the haze of alcohol, the pieces fell into place rapidly for him, but he didn't say anything.
Instead leaving space for the man to continue at his own pace.

"... When you... Pushed me down... It hurt me more than I wanted to admit. It reminded me of- of bad things. You saw how I responded."

Johnny swallowed. Nodded. Stayed quiet.
Doing his best to fight down the rapidly forming lump in his throat.

"I know you could not temper yourself. I could see that you were lost to the emotions. I understood. I truly did. But it stuck with me... I feared you in that moment, Johnny. I feared what I would do to you in that moment of... of panic."

König practically spat the word out, as if it were something foul.
His free hand clenching against his thigh as his head dipped and a shuddering exhale left him.

"I thought... Perhaps... I could..."

He didn't need to say it.
Johnny understood.
Christ did he ever understand.

How could he not?

This whole thing between them began because Johnny wanted to have control over his feelings of helplessness.
Have a way to untangle his torn up emotions and turmoil over being weak and pathetic now that he wasn't the man he once was.

König was seeking the same.
A way to recontextualize a moment of pain that he didn't want to feel.

He didn't want to re-experience that same fear when Johnny rested against his chest.

Another thought clicked into place.

His chest.

He'd been dragging Johnny down on top of him more often lately.

This wasn't his first attempt to recondition himself, was it?

He still trusted Johnny, that much was so very clear, but he also felt uncertain after what had happened.

This wasn't just about treating Johnny to some fun new game...

König wanted to feel safe.

---

Simon wanted to feel pain.

He wanted torment.
Aggression.
To be steered against his will into submitting and being forced to give in.

If it hadn't been clear before, it certainly was now.

Not because he was voicing it, oh no, that would be far too easy on the both of them.
But because the rough hand on his throat was making the hard line in his pants get all the more firm.
Practically throbbing between Phillips thighs as he choked and rolled his eyes back.
Mouth hung open in a silent plea for more. Or maybe mercy?

It didn't really matter which.

His body was laid out on the plush floor, Phillip straddling his hips and grinding down with a look of unimpressed mirth on his face.
Squeezing a bit to make his breath stutter and halt in its rise all over again.
Hands clenched tightly to try and lift in spite of the wrists that stayed pinned under his Commander's knees.
Struggling even as he savored being forced to take the teasing as a punishment.

"This what you were after? Wanted to make me angry and cut your big ass down, hm?"

He loosened his grip just a little, letting the man draw in a ragged breath, voice sounding raspy and broken as he fought to reply.

"Y-es."

He was rewarded with another rough grind of Phillips hips, chin lifting to expose more of his throat as he let his head thunk back against the carpet and tried to meet the movements.

He'd been quite a hard takedown.
Simon had made a damn fine show of putting up a fight, at one point even managing to almost disarm him as he tackled them both to the ground.

For a moment, Phil actually was bit worried he might lose the fight.
But a knee to the stomach and hard flip of their position put him right where he needed to be.

And now?

Well. Now the man was practically putty in his hand.

A hand that was tightening all over again as he spoke a cold and stern warning.

"Did I say you could move?"

The jerky shake of Simon's head was as pleasing as it was unseemly.
The man clearly struggling in the movement as he fought to answer in any way he could.

Watering eyes flagging a little as he fought to meet his gaze.

Cute.
And pathetic.

What a lovely mix.

It was rare that Graves got to vent his frustrations so violently.
Rare for him to need to reestablish his control with force rather than deceptively light hearted quips and careful prodding towards his goal.
Rare that he met such a fucking brat who was so willing to bask in its own masochistic desires and practically beg to be abused.

It was almost a little unsettling how easily he'd given into the desire.
Shoving his pet down to the floor and making him into a weak and worthless toy to be played with for his own amusement.

Normally he preferred the careful power play of negotiations.
The mind games and deception.

It made him feel strong.
Intelligent.
Let him shift his personality and slowly assert his will through cunning strategies and easy dismissals.
Becoming a sort of chameleon.
An anything to easily work the anyone to his advantage.

Reading the person who he targeted like an open book and turning their own minds against them.
Watching them slowly cave in with a confused expression as they failed to understand why they were submitting.

Smug with delight as they did it anyway with clenched fists and a pinched brow.

But this?

This was something new, and yet so familiar.
Something he hadn't indulged in since he was a scrappy marine who had to prove his manhood at every possible second.
Something that didn't need a playful mask or disguised intent.

Something raw, honest, open, and delightfully fucked up.

Gone were the games and trickery.
Gone was the need for goading and chiding.
Gone was the veneer of a calm expression and a careful phrase.

Just heated desire and sadism.

The thrill of cowing a beast with physical prowess alone.
Making it whimper and beg like a whore underneath him.

Making a seemingly invincible man into a pretty little mess.

Hm. Maybe he should be a little concerned about enjoying this so much?

Nah. He'd shelf the thought and save it for later.
Besides, this was as much a reward for Simon as it was a release for Phillip.

Hell, the man was almost staining his jeans as he fought to be a good boy and not start rutting up again.
Desperate for air and only being granted it on his Commander's whim alone.

Speaking of which.

He loosened his hold again, leaning down to shove his tongue between gasping and scarred lips.
Being met with a startled sound that shifted into a low and pleasured groan as his own tongue sought to do the same.

He allowed it.
Happily violating Simon's mouth and savoring his lusty sounds as he slotted the dull knife up under the straps of his tac vest and wrenched it hard.
Snapping the clips of it and making his pet hiss into the kiss as the tip of it poked painfully at his ribs.
Strong arms trying to wrench up beneath his knees to grab at it.

An unconscious response.
Trained into him from years of hard battles and the urge to survive.

And it meant nothing.

He was trapped, and they both knew it.

That hard line throbbing harder against the place between Phillips thighs; giving away how badly he loved the helplessness of it all.

He broke the kiss, delivering a hard bite to a lower lip as payback for the marks that still marred his throat.
Once again choking off his pretty and pathetic wardogs air and jamming the knife up and under the other side of the vest to snap open the straps there as well.

"Worthless. That's all you are, Simon. Showing off and acting up just to get my attention. Couldn't just wait a little longer for your treat, could you?"

Harsh words. Harsher response.

Simon's hips rutting up again, trying to get at the warm and wet place he was being taunted with through the fabric of his pants.

Practically falling apart under a man who was purposely shredding his ego and making him into a something and not a someone.

It was almost adorable, that desperation.
But, unfortunately, it was also another push against his commands.

Phillip wanted to make the man suffer for it.

"Don't learn, do you?"

He yanked away, shoving Simon down by the forehead as he tried to give chase, tsking a little and giving a wicked grin in reply to the strangled and garrish sound the man offered him.

"You're lucky I can't fuck you, Simon. I'd teach you a good hard lesson about being a good boy for me." He practically purred the words, digging his nails into the panting man's scalp through the fabric of his mask. "But you'd probably like that too much, wouldn't you? Bet you'd moan so pretty for me too."

"S- sir- Please-"

He felt the strain of those hands flexing again.
Felt the sharp press of a hard and still clothed shaft as hips rolled up with far too much excitement.
Heard that rattling and shuddering breath as it left Simon's chest too fast and made his words sound so much less put together.

Sick little thing.
Reveling in being violated like this.
So obviously imagining what it might feel like to be shoved face first into the carpet and fucked like he was nothing.

Maybe Phillip should consider buying a strap just to make good on the threat?
Now that'd be an interesting afternoon.

"That all you got for me? Just more whining? I want to hear you say it, brat. Fucking bark for me."

Man. He really was getting into this, wasn't he?
Did he need a therapist?

Probably.

This wasn't exactly a healthy sort of way to vent his rage.
But Christ alive if the thing under him wasn't just so enthusiastic about it all.

Maybe he could put off scheduling an appointment for another year?

Yeah. It'd be fine.

Totally healthy and normal that he was the most turned on he'd been in years, right?

Simon's lips parted again as Phillip wrenched the shoulder straps of his armor apart, yanking the front of the now unmade vest free and tossing it aside with a noisy thud against the carpet.

Once again trying to free his arms and only managing to lightly jostle Phillip as he continued his lazy and delightfully enjoyable grinding.

"Want you to, sir."

As if he had to say it.

Of course he did.
The man was so easy to read.
So eager to be used up and broken down.

If not for the thrill of the punishing treatment, then for the relief and peace of the reassurance that would come after.

"Do you? You that much of a pervert, Simon?"

"Yes, sir."

So shameless.
So unapologetically open with his desires.
Didn't even have to coax him into it.
Just parted those pretty lips and spilled his lust out without a hint of hesitation.
It actually made him want to give his pet what he was begging for.

Reward that cute and breathless honesty with a good, hard, and unforgiving time.
Just like he wanted.

The question was... How would he go about doing it?

Not for lack of trying, but he didn't exactly have a dick to shove into the man.
And all of his favorite toys were currently locked up and out of reach.

Maybe he could use his fingers or...?

Phillips hand tightened around the hilt of the zap knife.
Hard rubber of it flexing under his fingers as he pressed it firmly against Simon's throat and loomed over him.

The knife.

Oh.

His grin turned even more excited as something came to mind.

Oh, now there was an idea...
The material was soft enough to not do permanent damage, but hard enough to get the job done easily.
And the rest of him would be left free to move about and do as he liked while Simon writhed and whimpered for him.

But... Would it be something that they both could enjoy?

He'd no doubt have fun doing it.
The idea alone of making his pet choke and writhe as he fucked him open was more than a bit alluring.

But would Simon want that?

Phillip knew his history.
Had read every scrap of information he could get about the man.
Even managed to snag classified documents and reports that no one had ever laid eyes on.

And the things he found...

There was as much a risk of this being traumatizing as there was a chance it would be pleasurable.

And checking in was something the both of them didn't do.
It was pretty obvious last time that the concept was a buzz kill for this masochistic little shit; and Phillip wasn't interested in coaxing him back to life if he flagged under the threat of consent coming into play.

It wasn't fun if the other person was no longer turned on.

Simon didn't want to give permission.
He wanted to be broken down and used like he was nothing.

No dynamics.
No rules.
No safety rails.
Just blind trust he'd be given everything he wanted in return for doing everything he was told.

Just a hard and sick fuck that left him sobbing and begging to be told he did a good job.

But Phillip didn't want to break his pet beyond repair.
He wasn't so lost in the situation that he'd become unreasonable.

This man was irreplaceable.
One of a kind.
Something he'd been craving and needing to leash and claim for so damned long.

Hurting him wasn't the end goal.

He needed this to be another way to cement Simon to his side.
Keep him coming back, begging for more.

He couldn't just use him and toss him out the door with a 'good effort, sport' like all the others.

And he couldn't ask if this was ok...

...but he could guide Simon into admitting it, couldn't he?
Play with the mind as he forced the body to submit to him.
Let his stupid little pet think that he'd come up with the concept and hike up the intensity of that shame kink he was currently revealing just a bit too eagerly.

Work that very same shame to his advantage afterwards, when things came crashing down and he clung to Phillip with those wet eyes and shaking frame.

Now that sounded fun.

He tilted his head, pushing the knife up a little higher under his pets chin, making its presence even more apparent than it already was as he mockingly cooed down at him.

"Aw. But how am I supposed to do that, hm? You forget what I have below the belt?"

He shifted one of his knees as he spoke, leaving an immediately taken opening for Simon to wrench his hand free and grip hard at Phillips wrist.
Doing his best to lurch up and try to get at his commander to take another kiss.

Held back only by his still pinned arm.

Predictable.
He liked predictable.

"That's hardly an answer. Go on. You want me to fuck you? Come up with an idea."

Simon tightened his hold, breathing hard, burning and desperate bronze staring up into cool iron.
Begging for it's heat.

But he knew what was being hinted at.
Knew he needed to say it.

Philip watched with rising excitement as that hand shifted up slowly.
Simon lacing his fingers roughly with his own over the hilt; molten look of unashamed desire filling his pets eyes as he dragged it up and positioned the knife between their faces.

Swallowing thickly and lowering his voice to a cracking whisper as he rolled his hips up again.

"You know how... sir."

A pleased hum came in reply, the Commander tilting his head and flicking his eyes between their shared grip and that openly begging face.

"Hmn... Not a bad idea. Thank you, Simon."

The shudder that ran though the man's body was like a mini earthquake.
Familiar conditioning making him respond and immediately go more lax and pliant.

Christ, this man really was just so perfect for him, wasn't he?

Only their second time tangled together and he already knew how to give his Commander exactly what he wanted.

"You really are a good boy, aren't you?"

Another shudder. And a sound that could have been mistaken for a strangled whine.

"Yes, sir."

Perfect.

Phillip tugged the knife free of that grasping hand, his other moving down to Simon's jaw to grip hard and dig his fingertips into the muscle.
Watching as that strong chest rose and fell more rapidly with mounting excitement.

"Open."

---

He did his best to keep his mouth shut as he listened to König speak.
Chest feeling like it was being clawed into by a beast made of pure guilt as the larger man sniffled and wiped at his eyes.

"I... I just wanted us to be closer, my Johnny. I wanted to erase that worry..."

They'd moved closer to one another as the conversation had gone on.
König now fully leaning against Johnny in an awkward bow.
The top of his head butted up under the smaller man's chin as he hugged himself close and sought out comfort from the very same person who was responsible for his emotional turmoil.

"I am a fool."

Johnny closed his eyes and willed himself to not break down.
Unwilling to make this situation about himself as he traced careful patterns down a large back and pressed his lips to messy and soft hair.

"No, you're not. It makes sense."

Too much sense.
So much painful and perfect sense.

"I did something that genuinely hurt you, Kö. I made you feel small. Of course you'd want to try and fix it like this... I don't blame you."

If he was in a similar position... He would have done the same.

He HAD done the same.

"I do not blame you either." König shifted up a bit, moving to wipe at his face roughly again and meet Johnny's guilt ridden gaze, "I know that you are a good man. I know that you did not mean it. And I did not lie when I said I trust you... I have always trusted you, my Johnny. Even that first night did not deter my faith in you."

It was taking everything in Johnny's power not to break down at those words.
He wanted to claw his own throat open just to prove how sorry he was.
Bleed out and show his regret with dying breaths and blood soaked fingers.

But that wouldn't help.
It was just more stupid ego trying to convince him that grandiosity would somehow mean more than listening and understanding.

More 'manly pride' horse shit.

"It is why I am so willing... Because I know you would never try to harm me. I know that your injury did not just affect your limbs. I know how far you've come to be better, even when you do not see it in yourself. It was a lapse, not proof of your failures..."
König paused for a moment, a strange sort of rueful grin tugging at his lips as he looked down and sighed,
"I suppose this is more proof of that, isn't it? You want this to be something I will not regret... That means more than you know."

His heart was twisting.
Breaking.
Hurting so damn much.

Asshole.
Johnny was an asshole.
And König was acting like it was fine when it wasn't.
Lacing forgiveness between confessions as he finally found the will to spill his thoughts out like a waterfall.

"I do not regret the choice, though I am sure I should. But I do regret not speaking of it. I am... I am ashamed of myself Johnny. Ashamed that I faltered and was weak when you needed my strength. Ashamed that I am not the man you think me to be. I do not know how to speak of my fears and admit my desires. How could I when no one has ever cared to ask? How could I when, before we met, I was so much more cruel and careless."

It felt like being slapped full force on the face with a mirror.
A matching but different version of his own guilt and insecurities spoken in a soft and lilting voice that hid so many unknown stories.

A man wanting to be strong, and yet, feeling weak and pitiful because he thought he wasn't a good person.

"I wish that I was all that you thought of me. In control, strong, smart, always knowing what to do and how to do it.
But I am not... I am a foolish man who acts rashly. I have made a regret of myself to so many... Been left behind for many mistakes. Deservedly so."

Keep it together.
Christ alive keep it to-bloody-gether.
Be the strong one here.
Don't cry.
Don't fucking dare cry.

"It is why I rely on our rules and terms to keep myself in line and not give into my stupidity. I want so many things. Too many things. But if I act as I used to... be a monster to you... would you want me anymore? Would you keep those lovely eyes on me? Or would you just turn away?"
He sounded close to crying again,
"Until the day we made our arrangement I never cared to think past the momentary pleasures. Never felt so attached and willing to improve. You... Made me want to believe I was the man I always pretended to be."

How could a person be so wrong about himself?
How could König not see that he was just as amazing as Johnny always believed him to be?

What bastard broke him down so hard that he honestly thought that his care and respect was some sort of lie or mask?
That his honesty and selflessness was a manipulation and not a mark of how fucking good of a man he was?

"At my heart, Johnny, I am a greedy and bitter man. One who wants to take and take and take without worrying about the repercussions. I am... I am selfish. Even my own held off pleasures are taken as a reward for warping you and making you submit to my sickening desires... I am no better now than I was back then. And now... I have made your gift into a guilt trip. I have made you regret as well."

Johnny broke.

Both under the weight of his own emotions and the harsh reality of how König saw himself.

God help him he wanted to keep himself put together and be a wiser and stronger man.
But he couldn't.
He didn't know how to be anymore.
Perhaps he never did.

Perhaps, deep down, it was always a fault of his.
That rashness, that stupidity, that lack of control.

How many people assumed he was a sporadic and wild soul that did as he pleased without thought or care?
How many thought of him as the happy go lucky idiot who brushed off wise words and made an ass of himself?
How many times had he proven those assumptions right?

Too many.
Far too many on both accounts.

And yet, König had always acted like he wasn't the bastard he knew himself to be.
Worse, he thought that HE was just as wrong.
Thought he was just as bad, if not worse, than the man he had carefully managed to make feel so much less terrible about himself.

König was a fucking saint to him.

Thoughtful.
Kind.
Intuitive.
Caring.
Honest.
And always there for him, even when he didn't deserve it.

He took a cooling and bitter ember that wanted to burn out and coaxed it back to life in his strong hands.
He made Johnny feel alive and safe in ways he'd never known because he was good.
He was so unbelievably fucking good.

And Johnny...

Johnny was a selfish man.
A stupid man.
A man who was careless long before the bullet made his faults so much more clear for all to see.

He was a bastard to his core, and König had been there for him anyway.

And right now this stupid, selfish, half drunk, piss poor excuse of a man wanted to stupidly and selfishly make König feel better in the only way he knew how.

In the way that he deserved.

Even if it meant breaking their agreement and finally allowing him to see that he deserved better than what Johnny could offer.

Even if it meant hurdling himself over the line he'd drawn in the sand.

Even if it meant a firm rejection and being alone again.

So he did.

Cutting off the attempt at more words with soft hands that tangled into softer hair.
Drawing him in closer before he could react.

Praying to God that he wasn't making the world's biggest mistake now that it was already in motion.
Hoping that the slow movement gave his König enough time to yank away and stop him if this wasn't what he wanted.

He was no better than Ghost, was he?

Using this sharing of soft emotions to take what he didn't deserve.

Stealing something he had no right to take.

Selfish.

So selfish.

Couldn't even be good enough to not think about his own stupid feelings when Königs mattered more.

Too late now.

Lips met.

Soft and desperate.

Seeking out some way to express everything that he couldn't say through the cloud of guilt and the sting of tears.

Wanting to give a gift that probably wasn't even wanted.

The parallel should have been obvious to him.
If only he was smarter.

He pressed his more firmly against that startled and slackened mouth.
Trying to make it as close to loving as he could muster.
Needing the man to understand.

His heart breaking as the kiss remained unreciprocated.

Knowing he was ruining this and too guilty to care.

Wanting to at least remember the warmth of those lips before they pressed into a hard line and never spoke to him with kindness again.

Wishing he was a better man.

Wishing he was actually worthy.

Wishing he could take back every moment of brashness and foul temper that he'd openly visited on the person he was coming to care for beyond just sex and a need for closeness.

Wishing, wishing, wishing, wishing.

And knowing it wasn't enough.

Just another brash decision in a long line of brash decisions.

Another act of selfishness wrapped up in the soft embrace of a desire to finally admit his affections.

He pulled back.
Eyes wet.
Keeping his gaze low and sniffling like a fucking idiot.
Unable to meet König's eyes after what he'd just done.

Mumbling a small apology as he wiped his face roughly and felt his chest ache.

He crossed the line.
Broken their agreement.

All of this hinged on rules.

And he'd just snapped the most important one over his knee like a twig.

Admitted with his actions what he wouldn't dare with words.

Ruined it all in a single moment.

He didn't blame König when he felt him draw away.

Didn't even try to stop him.

Didn't pretend that his heart wasn't ripping in half when his hands fell into his lap as he lost the will to keep clinging.

Didn't look up as the bed shifted under his rising weight.

If this meant he'd ruined it all... that this first real kiss between them had to be a goodbye and an ending to all that they might have been... He'd accept it.

König deserved a better man...
A good man...
Someone who wasn't so fucking self centered.

Someone who made him feel safe and loved.
Someone who was worthy of that trust.
Someone who could make himself see he wasn't a monster.

That someone could never be Johnny...

---
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---

Hands.

Strong and hard and shoving.

Startling Johnny as they pushed him down against the sheets.
Eyes snapping up to meet leaking glaciers.

A question going unspoken as a mouth crashed onto his own and devoured the words before he could even breathe a syllable.

Strong body climbing up to sit awkwardly on his lap and drag his hands up to firm hips and hold them there so tightly that even his tremors couldn't have their way.

Whispered prayer between the hard press of rising desire as König weighed him down with this body and wept into the kiss.

Like he was happy.

Like he was overjoyed.

"Johnny... my Johnny..."

Whatever doubt he had was washed away by those desperate tears and loving murmurs of his name.

Good sense fleeing him as he dug his fingers in to reassure König that he wasn't letting go.
Pushing his lips more firmly against his lovers and rolling his hips up thoughtlessly as a warm tongue found the seam and asked for entry.

He granted it.
Didn't think twice, even when his logical mind knew he should.

How could he?

König hadn't pushed him away when he should have.

Hadn't left him alone nor abandoned him to his misery when it was all Johnny believed he deserved.

Still a fucking saint.
A goddamn gentleman.
Forgiving his transgressions so easily.

Ignoring the heavy snap of the rules breaking between them and returning his own crushing blow to it with even more vigor.

Just happy that Johnny had kissed him.
Hadn't rejected him when he too had been lost in his own insecurities and self doubts.

He leaned in, just like Johnny had that first night.
Making his desires clearer.
Making it so they couldn't be ignored.
Giving away that he wanted to lose himself.
Intent ringing clear as a church bell.

And how could Johnny dare to deny the truth of his actions when every part of his König was making it so obvious to him?

How could he wallow when reality was finally punching through his thick skull and making him realize the truth?

This was never casual, was it.
Not to him.
Not to König.
And now Johnny was finally being told as such.

Their tongues met, licked messily, tangled together.

Strong arms shifting and moving to brace elbows on either side of his head.
Fingers tangling into his too long hair and not giving him an inch.
Fusing them together with such passion that he couldn't even think of anything but the heavy weight of a perfect body and the final crunch of 'casual' breaking apart and crumbling under it forever.

Done and dusted.
A casualty of their attritious war of emotions and pleasure.

He didn't even want to think about being responsible right now.
Wanted to snuff out his doubts and give into the silent and desperate demands of the perfect person that straddled him and chased away his thoughts.

But he had to.

He had to do this right.

He had to treat this man like the treasure he was.

He had to make sure he spent every second, of every hour, of every day he had proving to König that he was perfect.
Everything he wanted.
Someone he wasn't going to even try to live without now that he had him properly.

Fuck his insecurities.

Fuck his stupidity.

Fuck his ego.

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!

He wanted to be worthy?
Then he was going to be.

No more selfish bravado.
No more self pity.
No more doubting.

He shoved his head back into the sheets to break the kiss, pressed his hand over König's mouth before he could give chase, halted those moving hips with a firm grip.

Panting.

Trying to unmuddle his tangled thoughts.

Needing to prove he was worth the trust and care that was always given so freely and without hesitation.

For once, he was going to be a real man.

Not an idea of one.
Not a self imposed wall of ideals and bullshit.

Not scared.

Absolutely NOT self pitying.

And it needed to start here.

"Slow." He breathed out, clearing his throat as best he could, carefully moving to unseal his partner's lips and cup his jaw. "I won't- I don't want to mess this up, alright? Not with you. Not ever. So we need to go slow... Do this on your terms and not mine, just like how you do with me."

König nodded almost too quickly.
Giving away how ready he was for this exact moment and looking as emotionally ruined as Johnny felt.
Not even hesitating to agree if it meant more between them.

If it meant something real and honest.

"Slow... Yes. I can do that."

He really was the better man, wasn't he?
Johnny wanted to kiss him all over again.
He almost regretted that his stupid little rush-in was the first.
But he couldn't let that be his focus right now.

"I... also need something from you."

"Anything, my Johnny, name it."

He inhaled slowly, doing his best to keep a level head and put himself into the headspace of someone who was better than he truly was.
Needing to be someone who deserved the gift he was about to be given.
The very same one he'd been so insistent on not taking before the kiss.

Please let this be the right choice.

"If it hurts, I need you tell me. Understand?" He held the larger man's gaze as he spoke, needing him to hear it properly and really let it sink in, "None of that 'i can handle it' shite, alright? I won't know if I'm doing this wrong if you don't tell me. I'm an idiot... I need you to help me learn."

Another nod, a small and relieved smile accenting it.

So accepting and earnest that it was almost cute.

"I will."

"Thank you..."

He pulled him back in, pressing his lips back to König's.
Caressing his cheek with a softness that was once unthinkable to him.
Trying to pour everything he had into it for as long as he could before it broke again.

"Are you certain you want to do this? I know I reacted poorly but... I will not be angry if you wish to be more lucid first."

"I'm sure. As long as you are."

Another kiss, more soft touches, warmth and pressing bodies that felt like they were always meant to melt together like this.

"I am."