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They’ve just returned from another sortie, and Count just couldn’t help himself. “Hey Trigger, saw you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me out there, you like what you saw?” The flirty remark leaves him as he and Trigger are walking into their shared cell. This is a regular occurrence at this point, Count making flirty jokes in Trigger’s direction, and Trigger outright ignoring him. He doesn’t see why this time would be any different. Trigger, however, has different ideas.
Trigger moves faster than Count thought possible. Before he can even process what happened, he’s being pinned against the wall of their cell, Trigger’s face extremely close to his. Well, more like his neck, with their height difference. He can feel Trigger’s open-mouthed breath on his throat and it makes him shiver.
“You’re always saying stuff like that,” Trigger practically growls, “why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
An involuntary whine escapes Count upon hearing Trigger’s tone. His voice shakes - in fear , he tells himself - as he tries to backtrack. “I- I was j- oh god ” Trigger’s teeth are millimeters from his neck. “I was j- joking…” Despite the words coming out of his mouth, his body language tells a different story. He leans his head back, giving Trigger better access to his neck. He’s practically vibrating from the tension.
Trigger scoffs. “Joking, huh?” He drags his teeth across Count’s neck and feels Count shiver again. His eyes flick downward for a moment and he grins. He leans his head to murmur in his ear. “I think I know better than that.” He shifts his knee in between Count’s legs, briefly brushing against the bulge forming in his flight suit before taking it away.
Count sucks in his breath at the brief contact, before letting it out in a huff as the contact was taken away. “T-Trigger..” he breathes, almost a whine. He won’t admit it aloud, but Trigger’s voice and teasing is turning him on beyond belief. It’s not fair. Trigger’s voice, low and raspy from disuse, murmuring in his ear. Trigger’s voice, that he’s hardly ever heard. He closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing.
Trigger reaches up to purr into his ear again, “What is it, Count? Cat got your tongue?” His teeth ghost over his throat again, making the barest minimum of contact.
Count practically whimpers at this. He can hardly think straight from the pressure in his lower regions. “Trigger… fuck, just… do something.” His voice is airy, almost pleading. He doesn’t look down at himself, but he knows he’s probably leaking into his flight suit at this point.
Trigger smirks. “Nah,” he says simply, pulling back from Count’s throat. “Not unless you ask nicely.” He smirks.
With that, Count’s face goes redder than it was already. “N-no!” he stammers, knowing immediately what Trigger is implying.
“Cmon, Count. You know you want to.” Trigger’s voice is teasing, and then suddenly drops an octave. “Beg for it,” he growls.
Oh, fuck. If Trigger’s voice was hot before, this was something else. Count can’t stop the whimpering moan that leaves him at Trigger’s tone. It’s like a switch flipped in his brain. The words pour out before he can stop them.
“Trigger, please. Please just touch me.” he begs, squeezing his eyes shut. His face burns in humiliation, but the heat spreads further downward.
Trigger scoffs again. “Heh, that’s what I thought.” He grabs onto Count’s jumpsuit collar. “But not yet.” He tugs him down a bit, then quickly shoves him down to his knees.
Count grunts as his knees hit the pavement. He’s too stunned to protest. He tilts his head, wide-eyed, up at Trigger, who smirks down at him.
Trigger then turns around, leaving Count stunned on the floor as he begins unzipping his flight suit. He shrugs the sleeves off slowly, making a show of dragging the top down. His white t-shirt clings to him with sweat, a result of the physical strain of the mission they’ve just returned from. It makes Count’s mind go wild. He doesn’t even attempt to hide his staring. He glances further downward as Trigger drags his jumpsuit down to his thighs.
Trigger palms at his bulge a few times before dragging his underwear down to his thighs as well, and turning back around to face Count.
Count gulps at the sight of Trigger, standing tall in front of him, fully erect. It’s clear what he wants Count to do. It still takes a few moments to register in Count’s mind, which has all but turned to mush at this point.
Trigger gestures downward impatiently. “Well?” He raises an eyebrow, prompting Count to break out of his daze and shuffle forward, still on his knees. He places his hands on Trigger’s hips, bringing his mouth over the tip of Trigger’s cock. He runs his tongue a few times over the slit, drawing a hiss from the man above him. Bit by bit, he inches his mouth further and further down Trigger’s length, pausing for a moment to let his gag reflex adjust before continuing. Slowly but surely, he manages to take him all the way to the hilt, pausing again before beginning to bob his head.
He does a damn good job, if he does say so himself. And Trigger agrees. Trigger lets out a low moan, tangling one hand in Count’s hair, gripping it hard. As Count pulls back, Trigger uses the hand in his hair to shove his mouth back onto himself. He starts relatively slowly, just shoving him back on every time he pulls back, but quickly finds himself wanting more. He snaps his hips forward as he pulls Count back on, now beginning to thoroughly fuck his face. He’s absolutely shameless, moaning and gasping freely, not even trying to muffle his sounds.
Count chokes and sputters at the speed change, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying being used by Trigger. And the sounds coming out of his mouth? Count’s harder than he’s ever been in his life. He tries to reach down with one hand to try and relieve some of the pressure, but Trigger catches his hand with his free one and brings it back to his hip.
“No,” Trigger pants between moans, “you- ah- only get touched when I say so.”
Count whines in disappointment but doesn’t try to touch himself again. He keeps his hands on Trigger’s hips as Trigger pistons in and out of his mouth.
“Fuck, ah- Count, you feel so fucking good,” Trigger gasps, speeding up again. Count moans around him at the praise. He can tell Trigger’s close and grips his hips tighter, encouraging him to fuck his face harder. He does, thrusting in and out, in and out, in and out, until-
“Oh, fuck!” Trigger shouts, reaching his peak. He holds Count’s head down, sheathing himself fully as he cums down his throat. He shudders as he rides out his orgasm, gripping Count’s hair. After he comes down from his high, he pulls out of Count’s mouth and quickly shifts his hand to cover it so he can’t spit.
“Swallow.” He commands. Count complies without question. At this point he’d do anything Trigger asked of him.
“Good boy,” Trigger growls, rubbing the back of Count’s head. Count feels a jolt go through his groin and he whines automatically at the praise. He’s sure that if he looked down there’d be a wet spot in his flight suit with how much he’s leaking into it.
Trigger tucks himself back into his underwear and ties the sleeves of his flight suit around his waist before grabbing Count by the collar again. He pulls him back to his feet before leaning over him and crowding him against the wall again.
“So, Count,” Trigger starts, “you got an answer for me yet?”
“T-Trigger please.” Count whimpers. “Touch me, please.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, Count.” Trigger huffs. “But alright,” he relents. He reaches down and starts stroking Count through his jumpsuit.
After being denied for so long, even the slightly muted contact through his clothes feels amazing. Count bucks his hips against Trigger’s hand, voice cracking as he lets out a loud moan. “F- fuck.”
Trigger strokes him faster and faster, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck, Trigger, please, I’m gonna-”
Suddenly, the friction stops. “H-huh?” Confused, Count looks down to see Trigger has completely taken his hand off of him. “Cmon, Trigger…” he whines.
“Nope.” Trigger teases. “ You still haven’t told me how you really feel about me.” He grins cockily. He grabs Count’s wrists and pins him to the wall. “And I won’t touch you anymore until you do.”
Count huffs and tries to buck his hips against Trigger, but Trigger isn’t close enough to rub against.
“Uh uh uh,” Trigger shakes his head. “Cmon Count. Be a good boy and tell me how you feel,” he murmurs in his ear.
Finally, Count relents. He breathes in and lets it out shakily. “Fine. Yes, Trigger. I have feelings for you. The flirting wasn’t a joke. I’m really into you.” He closes his eyes, more embarrassed by the admission of feelings than by anything else Trigger’s done to him already.
“There you go,” Trigger coos, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He removes his hands from Count’s wrists and gently cups his cheeks. He rubs his cheek with his thumb and Count opens his eyes. He makes eye contact with Trigger, who pulls him in into a heated kiss.
Count moans into the kiss, feeling like he’s floating on clouds. He wraps his arms around Trigger, pulling him closer. Trigger slips his tongue into Count’s mouth, exploring every inch of his mouth with it. Trigger runs his hands down Count’s body, stopping just above his bulge.
Count pulls away from the kiss, panting. “Trigger. Please.” He was so close, the slightest touch could send him over at this point.
Trigger grins at him, and once again starts stroking Count through his jumpsuit. It doesn’t take long to send him over the edge.
“Fuck, Trigger!” Count’s voice cracks again as he spills into his flight suit, almost sobbing as he cums. Trigger continues to stroke him through his orgasm, pulling away when he starts to shake from overstimulation, but still holding Count so that he doesn’t fall.
Count shudders in place, holding onto Trigger so that he doesn’t fall over. He’s still twitching when Trigger pulls away from him, a smug grin on his face.
“W-what now?” He asks, still dazed.
“Forgot to mention. We aren’t allowed to do laundry for another 3 or 4 days.” Trigger chuckles. Count looks down at himself. There’s a massive wet spot right on the crotch of his jumpsuit, which will almost definitely leave a stain. He groans.
Everyone will know what they were up to.