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“You’re seriously gonna break his heart like that?” Hana said, glancing at you from above her bunny-shaped sunglasses. “He’s gonna catch feelings.”
“Naw, he’s not.” You dismissed with a wave of your hand. “We’ll, like, talk about it.”
“You’re gonna break his frail old man heart. He’s gonna need viagra and zoloft after this.”
You rolled your eyes. Brigitte tilted her glass of ice water as if to say, ”well, maybe.”
You, Hana, and Brigitte were reclining on one of the observation decks, soaking in the warm midday sun; a familiar activity for you. Hana had convinced Brigitte to carry all of their lounge chairs out all this way for you both, even though you’d insisted you could do it yourself. Planes came and went in the distance, music chirped softly from Hana’s portable speaker, and the consistent hum of summertime rang all around.
“What is it with you and crusty old guys?” Hana said after a sip of her melon soda. “Can’t you just want to fuck like Baptiste like the rest of us? Only kidding, Brig.”
“No offense taken.” She replied, leaning to give Hana a kiss on the temple. “I don’t even like guys, but like, I get it.”
“He’d be, like, the one guy I’d pick.” Said Hana. “I just feel like he’d treat me right, y’know?”
“Okay, don’t get it twisted, I am also into Baptiste.” You said with a pinch of your fingers in the air. “But hear me out.”
“I’m listening.” Said Hana dryly.
“I’m just...curious.” You said, leaning back in your chair.
“About Sigma.” Hana clapped her hands together in a prayer motion, and pointed at you with it. “He’s like, 100 years old. You are going to break his hip.”
“...he just seems...I’unno, like he’d be so...gentle?”
“Gentle?” She bark laughed. “He’s like, seven feet tall. You cannot tell me you aren’t picturing getting just absolutely raw dogged by him in zero gravity. Which again, will definitely make him crumble into cremated remains on the spot.”
“There’s nothing I could say to make you believe me, huh?” You sighed. “I just get this feeling that he’d be really…sweet.”
“You’re not listening to me.” Said Hana. “I need you to listen to me. It’s gonna be like kissing stale gummy worms. He probably smells like baby wipes. Is that sexual to you? Are you feeling sexual about that?”
You glanced at Brigitte, who pointedly sipped her drink.
“And more importantly, he is for sure going to catch feelings for you.” Hana said with a gesture of her hand. “I can just tell. He’s the type. He’s either gonna have a real bad episode about it, or he’s gonna show up to your room the day after with flowers, or, like, some other old man thing. A bouquet of Werther's Originals. Are you emotionally prepared for that? Are you? Just tell me if you’re into his toes. Tell me. Look me in the eyes.”
But you didn’t look her in the eyes. Instead, your thoughts were drifting, thinking about when you’d first noticed how big Sigma’s hands were.
Despite Hana’s warnings (and Brigitte’s silent disapproval), you’d already made up your mind.
Later that evening, you found yourself in front of Dr. de Kuiper’s quarters, knocking out a gentle rhythm on the door.
“Who is it?” Sigma opened the door a crack, peering out from behind it with a cautious eye.
You gave him a small wave, trying to hold your confidence tight in your chest.
“Ah!” He said, opening the door wide. “My apologies, I don’t get many visitors, especially not at this hour. Come in, please.”
As the door opened, you saw he was wearing a fleece robe, tied tightly around his waist. You let your eyes linger hungrily for just a moment on the silver chest hairs peeking from the top.
He gestured you inwards. You stepped in, taking in the sights; his room was covered with belongings, every inch of the walls and ceilings having posters, sticky notes, diagrams, and scribbled-on white boards. Books were on every surface, stuffed into floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and laying on the tables and nightstand. A piano sat near the window, sheet music covering the music rack, next to a telescope that pointed to the stars. For as little as you felt you actually knew him, his quarters suited him well.
“I can offer you tea, or coffee if you’d prefer?” He said, gliding to the small kitchenette.
“Ah, sure, I could go for tea.” You said politely, watching his hands deftly pick up the teapot that had chickens painted on the side and fill it with water.
“Your flavor preference?” Sigma opened the cabinet, revealing an impressive amount of stacks of tea boxes.
“Hmm, surprise me.” You said as you sat on one of the free chairs at the table.
“Oh, what a treat!” Sigma replied, running his fingertip down the boxes, looking for a selection. “I’m afraid I don’t know your tastes, but I’ll make an educated guess.”
Sigma lifted a bag from one of the boxes and held it by the tag. He pulled a cup from one of the hooks above the sink, inspecting it for a moment before holding it out to you.
“I believe this cup will be to your liking?” He said, his smile bright.
The teacup was porcelain, and decorated with a scene of watercolor kittens in raincoats with umbrellas jumping in puddles.
“Oh...my god.” You said, accepting the cup with both hands. “That is adorable.”
“Isn’t it? I bought that cup in Spain, some years ago, from an artisan who made the most delightful ceramics.” Sigma hummed, placing the teabag in. “And I’ll recommend you add honey with this flavor, I think you will like that as well. The blend itself will be a surprise, yes, I would love for you to try to guess what it is!”
”This is so...wholesome.” You thought, keeping your face on the outside a pleasant smile. ”Damn. This vibe is way off. There’s absolutely no way to pivot from cute teacups to ‘oh, by the way, I came here to get dicked down by you’.”
“So, anyway, what brings you to my quarters this evening?” Sigma smiled, resting himself onto the chair beside you.
He manifested a rock in his hand with a small blip of light, rotating it peacefully in the air around his fingers. It danced lightly around his thumb, then curled around his outstretched index finger and weaved to his palm, where it spun like a top before continuing its journey.
”Damn.” You thought.
“I, uh, had a question for you.” You said, your eyes fixed on Sigma’s mesmerizing idle motions.
“Oh?” Hummed Sigma, not seeming to notice how distracting he was being. “You know, the beauty of the universe is in its infinite amount of questions, and infinite answers, too many answers to accommodate the questions we may ask of it. I am always open to a curious mind.”
“Well, it’s, uh, not a science question.” You said without thinking, unable to take the obvious out you’d just been given.
Sigma paused.
“It’s...not?” He said, clearly surprised.
“No, it’s...personal.” You said, cooly. “But, I think I might know the answer, actually, so I might just-”
You motioned to get up, but felt Sigma lightly touch his hand to yours, causing you to pause.
“It’s okay,” Sigma said softly. “You can ask me whatever is troubling you.”
That was so much worse. Your stomach did a flip, instincts telling you to book it, but your body remained seated, your horny drive overpowering your good senses.
“...look, I…” You started, suddenly feeling like the room was oppressively hot. “I was just thinking...I couldn’t help wondering, if maybe...y’see, I was watching you the other day, and I was just…”
You took a deep breath in, and sighed. You’d done this before with guys on the base, you could handle getting shot down.
“I’m...attracted to you. I’d be down if you wanted to have some fun, no strings attached.”
Sigma blinked, his face frozen. The rock in his hand stood dead still as the gears turned in his head.
“There...must be some mistake.” He said finally, his expression contorting. “I don’t...did...someone put you up to this?”
“No, no!” You replied quickly. “I’m serious, I swear!”
“...I’m not sure...how to believe that.” Sigma said blankly, unable to look at you in the eyes.
He turned his head to the side, looking into space.
“Look, if you don’t want to, I’ll leave, and we can pretend this never happened,” You said gently, covering Sigma’s hand with your own. “But, I’d like to prove that I’m serious, if you wanted me to.”
Sigma said nothing, perhaps lost in his own head.
“I don’t know you that well, at least yet, but...I really like your hands.” You said, glancing at their overlapping fingers. “The first thing I could tell about you was that you play the piano. Your hands are so much larger than mine, and so elegant, and they move so purposefully, like you know what you’re doing with every motion - it’s really hot.”
Sigma looked at the floor.
“I like guys that tower over me,” You continued. “And I thought Reinhardt was tall, before you showed up. You’re tall in a comforting way, not in an intimidating way. I want to know what it feels like to be held by those long arms.”
In the distance, the tea kettle started to whistle softly.
“And, I can just tell that you’re so gentle, in the way you move things, the way you effortlessly lift things twice your size without blinking, but can also so delicately offer me a teacup…everything you do, it’s intentional. It’s commanding, but in a soft way. Like you’re mindful of every atom of space you take up. I like that.”
Sigma’s eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, his free hand mindlessly brushing down his neck, against his Adam's apple.
“...I’m too old for you. You deserve to be with a younger man.” Sigma said faintly.
“And I do hook up with younger men,” You said firmly. “But tonight, I came to you, Dr. de Kuiper.”
The teapot sang loudly, indicating that the water was brewed and ready. Sigma reached back and switched off the burner, then looked at you, his face unreadable with mixed emotions.
“...you can call me Siebren,” He said softly. “If you’d like.”
“Siebren.” You repeated.
Siebren averted his gaze again, his cheeks blooming pink with blush.
“...It is still very difficult for me to think you believe this of me. I haven’t...I haven’t been with someone in that way in a long time, not since…” His trailing fingers paused on his throat. “Well, I am...out of practice, to put it lightly. You’ll have to forgive me. But I’d like to try, with...with no strings attached.”
You sighed and pushed your fingers between Siebren’s, intertwining your hands.
“We can go slow.” You said, eyes trailing over the graceful taper of his long fingers interlocked with yours.
His knuckles were defined with age and the taught muscle of a person who’s been playing piano as long as he could read. Even the gentle gesture of intertwining your fingers displayed how strong his hands were. God, they were distracting.
“...well, ah, you came to me, so you…” He started, letting his thought trail.
You waited for him to finish. He cleared his throat.
“...you must...have an idea in mind...of what you want from me, not to be presumptuous, but…” He slid his thumb across your skin, both nervously and reassuringly, from the side of your hand almost to your wrist.
He was right. Of course you’d been picturing it. A few choice images flashed in your mind, most of them far too much for the pace you were pretty sure tonight would have.
“Yeah, I can lead. You can follow. Just like a dance.” You said softly, leaning closer to him. You weren’t sure where the poetic language spilling from your mouth was coming from, but the flowery words felt right, for him. “Like dance partners, if one of us missteps, we can try again.”
He flicked his grey eyes towards you. You were so close you could feel his breath, warm and sweet from the scent of tea lingering on him.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, and you were more sure than ever that you wanted to suck his dick.
You breathed a laugh, leaning into his lips.
For however out of practice he claimed to be, the kiss he gave you was as natural as if he did it daily. It was sweet, not chaste by any means, but soft and languid, and full of satisfied sighs. Even better still, behind the sweetness, you could tell there was a barely restrained hunger, one which was deepening by the second. He kissed with a passion, like if he let you go you’d fade like the memory of a dream.
You climbed into his lap, letting your lips part for just a moment. He breathed a wild smile onto you, leaning forward and trying not to show his desperation for the contact to return. You obliged him, sinking back into the kiss. The relieved sigh he gave at the touch lit a fire in your stomach, but you promised him you’d take it slow.
You guided his hands to your sides, where he gripped harder than you’d expected. His fingers danced on the edge of your shirt, clearly wanting to explore but unsure where to go. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. There was something deep and primal inside of him, something buried under what might have been years of loneliness, that wanted to tear into you. You could just tell. You were suddenly struck deeply with the desire to peel back every layer of him, if only just to reach that.
When you pulled your lips apart, he let out what must have been an involuntary whine.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured, readjusting your legs.
You pressed forward, gently nipping his jaw and kissing your way around his neck. He leaned into the touch, his breath catching as your teeth grazed his skin. The slight 5 o’clock shadow of stubble on his chin bristled delightfully against your lips. He smelled like fresh linen - a gentle, but distinctly masculine scent.
You crept your hand to brace his exposed neck, letting your kiss against the tender part of his neck deepen into a soft bite. He gasped, his grip on your hips tightening hard. As tempting as it was, you didn’t want to leave too much of a mark, just in case - but you bit just barely hard enough to let him know that you could.
His hands trembled on your skin, causing you to pause.
“...you okay?” You whispered into his neck.
“Yes! Fuck, I—” He breathed, his pretty voice faltering. “Verdomme, sorry, it’s just so much—”
“Don’t apologize.” You said softly, letting your fingertips brush his skin gently as you trailed your hand down to his chest. “Just tell me if you need to stop.”
“God, please, don’t stop…” He murmured.
You obliged, letting your fingers tangle with his silvery chest hairs as you slipped your hand under his robe. His pecs were soft, belying how muscular he was built. Your pinky finger brushed over his nipple, causing his back to arch.
“You like that?” You said, squeezing his pec to test it.
He nodded, his face burning hot.
“Mm.” You hummed, letting your thumb skim his sensitive skin.
You peeled yourself from him, pulling back to view his prone body. You gently eased the robe off his chest, revealing his skin to the air. He shuddered at the loss of heat, looking up at you with desperation in his eyes.
You gently pressed both hands to his chest, trailing your fingers down his pecs and dancing circles around his nipples. He arched into the touch, his hips rolling helplessly beneath you.
Your hands began to trail lower, working your way down his stomach. You untied the belt holding his robe closed with a gentle tug. You’d guessed (or, more accurately, fantasized) that he would be a boxers type, but to your surprise and delight, as you uncovered the plush fabric, underneath the robe was nothing at all.
You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. He turned away, his face lighting up wildly with embarrassment.
“You answered the door without underwear on?”
He lifted his hand to cover his blushing cheeks, no denial in sight.
“I...never would have known. God, you let me in so politely! That’s hilarious. Do you sleep naked?” You asked, brushing your fingers through his treasure trail. “Mm, or better yet, you had plans tonight, a date with your left hand, hmm?”
You were just teasing, but… He didn’t deny it. If anything, his face was even more red than before. A jolt of electricity bolted through you, images flashing through your head of him buried in his bed, hand around his dick, wishing it was someone else’s hand touching him, wanting someone’s name to cry out...
“Siebren…” You said in a low voice, hoarser than before. “...when you’re alone...what do you think about?”
He opened his mouth behind his hand, but no words came out. Maybe he wanted to tell you, to confide his most personal fantasies and self indulgences, but they caught in his throat. You hummed, testing the skin on his lower stomach with the tips of your fingers.
“Whatever you picture...I want to do it to you.”
You brushed lower, letting your fingertip skim the base of his cock. He bucked at the touch, letting out an obscene held breath. He was so riled up, just from your gentle teasing; he didn’t even need to tell you that it had been a long time since he’d been touched like this, his body said it all for him. There was a part of you that felt bad for finding it wildly, depravedly hot.
You let your fingers run along the length of his dick, languidly finding your way to the tip. He was modestly long, but deliciously thick. You’d love to see how it felt frotting between your legs, but for right now, you were focused on proving to him how serious you were about wanting to please him.
“It feels so much better with my hand, doesn’t it?” You purred, running your thumb over the head.
He made a muffled noise. You glanced up, seeing that he was still covering his mouth with his hand.
“Shh, relax.” You reassured him. “Don’t be embarrassed. Just tell me what feels good.”
You reached with your free hand, taking his thin wrist and bringing it to your lips. You kissed his knuckle, lingering your lips there for a moment, before moving your mouth down his hand and kissing every joint, working your way down his fingers. All the while, you let your other hand languidly stroke him. He was already close, you could tell - his cock pulsed with every movement, feeling fiery hot.
You felt his legs beneath you rising, and with a wild surge in your chest, you realized that he was floating above the chair now, perhaps involuntarily. You steadied yourself in his lap, making sure you wouldn’t fall. He seemed to have such a firm control on gravity, it was cute to see him lose his senses like this.
With a swirl of your hand, he jerked forward, wrapping his arms around your head suddenly.
“I— I’m—” He breathed into your neck.
You kept your motion going as best as you could, with him trying to press every inch of his skin against you. He held you tighter and tighter, as if letting you go would make you disappear.
With the prettiest exhale of his breath, you felt his cock twitch as he came in your hand.
His muscles relaxed as he let himself recover his senses. You leaned into his body, entangling your limbs even further.
“S-sorry…” He whispered. “Fuck...”
“For what?” You laughed, wrapping your hand onto his back.
“I...didn’t last…” He said, nuzzling into your neck.
“Did I ask you to?” You replied, trailing your fingers up his defined spine. “I said I wanted to have fun. And I did. Did you?”
Siebren responded by hugging you tighter. You sighed into the contact, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Next time, I’m going to suck your dick.” You smiled.
You could feel his face heating up with blush as he pressed even harder into you.
You’d have to update Hana that he did not, in fact, smell like baby wipes.