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Jim learns very quickly that Amos doesn’t like to be touched.
Joking in the galley late at night; their eyes are locked on each other and sparks are flying. They are saying so many things that they aren’t saying, with intense gazes and pauses pregnant with meaning. Jim places a friendly hand on Amos’ shoulder and Amos stands up so fast he knocks the magnetized chair over. Jim worries he’s misread the signs, but the affection is still there in Amos’ eyes, behind the anxious wariness and the warning.
They make love to each other in good-natured teasing and earnest compliments, smoldering looks and mirrored smiles.
The love, the intimacy, and the burning attraction only grow as time goes on, but Amos never gets comfortable enough to allow their bodies to touch. One day he tells Jim why. Tears fall from Jim’s eyes as he listens to the horrible things that were done to the man sitting across from him. Amos tells the story of his life like it’s the list of parts he plans to pick up when they’re in port. Jim catches himself just before he reaches out to take Amos’ hand, tries to offer empathy only with his eyes.
*****
One night they share a drink in Amos’ bunk. Jim is well aware of privilege he’s been granted, to even be allowed in Amos’ private space. But he wants so much more from this man. Needs the love they share to become physical, somehow. They're both sexual beings, after all, and Jim doesn’t want anyone else. He decides to push his luck, in the dim lights of the crew deck at late shift.
“Amos,” he says, interrupting their chatter about nothing and everything, “can we try something?”
A shadow crosses Amos’ face; as if he can sense his boundaries are about to be challenged. But he stays silent, lets Jim speak.
“I want… to make you come. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I respect that you can’t let me touch you, I know that won’t feel good to you, but I was wondering if… you would touch yourself for me.” Amos has joked about jerking off after their conversations turned hot and heavy a few times. Jim is reasonably confident Amos enjoys that sort of release.
Amos’ face softens. His body is still frozen, but he nods once, eyes locked on Jim’s face.
With that encouragement, Jim starts to feel less awkward, more articulate. “I want to tell you what to do; how to touch yourself. Then I could at least feel like I gave you some pleasure.” Jim feels a rush just from finally saying these things out loud.
“It’s about time you did something about these blue balls you’ve been giving me,” Amos says, covering his vulnerability with something crass. Then his sharp smile softens, into something like gratitude, and something like eagerness.
Jim smiles, settles back against the padded wall at his end of the bunk. “First thing I want is for you to unzip that uniform.” He means to say it gently, but it comes out like a command, too much pent-up desire pressing down on the words.
Amos holds his eyes for a long moment, starts pulling the zipper of his jumpsuit in a long, slow slide. The buzzing sound of metal teeth being forced apart fills the silent room.
“All the way,” Jim clarifies, “and take your shirt off.” He feels his eyes widening as he watches Amos shrug out of the top of those tight coveralls, which always look like they can barely contain his shoulders. His arms flex wickedly as he pulls the hem of his shirt up over his head. Amos tosses the garment into the corner and then turns back to Jim with a slight smile, waiting for his next instruction. His chest, covered with tattoos that hint at all of the colors of his past, rises and falls faster now. Jim feels his own breaths coming like he’s running out of oxygen. His cock is already at half mast, and he sees a stirring under the fabric of Amos’ shorts, exposed by the gaping jumpsuit. It’s not like he’s never seen the man undressed before, living in as close of quarters as they do. But context is everything; they are alone on a bed together now, Amos is doing everything Jim says and he’s looking at him like he’s the only thing left in the universe.
For a moment, Jim is at a loss for what to say next. He has been longing to be with Amos like this for so long. His instinct is to launch himself across the bed at the man, to bury his face and his hands in him. It’s the most exquisite kind of torture to not be able to do so; but a torture he is so glad to put himself through if it means they can be close in this way. He breathes deep, and remembers just to say exactly what he wishes he could be doing right now. “Run your hand across your chest.”
Amos settles back against the wall at the head of the bed, slides his hands casually up his ribs and over his pec muscles. He takes his time with it, smug look on his face like he knows exactly how hot Jim finds his body. The captain finds he has to clear his throat when he tries to speak again. “And your stomach.” Amos runs one hand down across the terrain of his abs, other hand continuing to caress his own chest. His gaze is locked on Jim’s face, watching him watch. Amos is the one displaying himself, becoming exposed, but Jim is the one who starts to blush.
Amos winks when he sees Jim’s face turning red. “I like this, Cap. Do you?”
Jim groans. “God, Amos. We only just got started, and I have no idea how I’m going to make it through.” Amos grins, strokes his body even more provocatively. “Touch your nipples for me,” Jim says, voice low and intent. “Does it feel good, is that something you like?” Amos nods, closes his eyes. “Show me how you like it.”
Amos pinches his nipples between thumb and fingers, rolling and pulling the sensitive flesh. He’s rougher with himself than Jim would have imagined. Jim is both rock hard and totally in awe; being allowed to gain this lover’s knowledge feels almost sacred.
After a few moments, Amos’ thick eyelashes flutter and he looks up at Jim again. His erection is fully evident now; Jim is about to resort to sitting on his hands to keep himself from reaching over and freeing it. “Slide your hands down your stomach,” Jim says. “Lower,” he growls when Amos stops and circles his fingers just below his navel. His hands resume their course, following an eye-catching trail of hair down under the waistband of his underwear. “Cup your balls.”
Jim is dying to see what’s happening under the fabric, but he doesn’t want to push Amos too far, too fast. Jim knows from experience that the guy will act like everything is completely fine until it suddenly isn’t. “Massage them for me.” Jim watches the outline of Amos’ hands work. He watches Amos’ face begin to grow slack and heated. This was what he had been craving most; to see the man he loves overcome with pleasure.
He’s waited as long as he could. “Are you ready to let me see?” Jim asks, voice rough and urgent now.
Amos refocuses on Jim’s face, his eyelids heavy with arousal. One hand withdraws from the jumble of fabric around his hips, then the other. Thumbs tucked under the waistband of his shorts, he leans back on his elbows and lifts his hips in the air slowly. “What do you say...?” He’s teasing Jim now.
“Please,” Jim breathes, and Amos is lifting the elastic up and over himself, sliding the rest of his clothes out from under his flexed glutes with the other hand. His penis is thick and dark and glorious, bouncing against his belly as Amos slides the rest of his clothes to the floor. Jim can’t look at anything else.
“What do you want me to do next, Cap?” Amos has to ask; Jim is too transfixed.
Come over here and let me worship that body with my tongue, Jim thinks. “Run your fingers up your shaft. Lightly.”
Amos settles back down, rests his fingers and thumb around himself in a loose grip and traces up and down, balls to tip and back again. Jim glances up at Amos’ face; he’s looking at him hungrily now. Urging Jim to give permission to do more than just tease himself.
“Squeeze it harder.” Jim’s hands spasm in his lap; they know how they would work Amos’ cock for him, but they can’t give Jim the words to more adequately direct the action. Still, it’s taking Jim’s breath away to watch how Amos handles himself; the angle of his wrist, the subtle twist in his strokes. The way his thumb and finger meet lightly over his head before descending back down again.
This is a way of getting to know a lover unlike anything Jim has ever experienced. He feels two competing energies inside of himself, swirling in alternating currents. One is a reverent, respectful love so pure it feels religious, almost bringing tears to his eyes as he looks at Amos’ blissful face, jaw slack with pleasure. Jim is so aware of the import of what Amos is allowing to happen; how much trust and vulnerability comes with being laid bare for him here. The other kind of energy comes from the most basic, instinctual core of Jim’s being: a powerful lust filling his nether regions to the straining, breaking point and pulling his eyes down over Amos’ body. The other man’s cock is less than a meter away from him, displayed for his viewing pleasure and so erect that it’s weeping.
“I want you in my mouth, so bad,” Jim can’t help but say.
Amos shakes his head. “Not ready for that, Cap.” He pauses, eyes roaming over Jim’s body, too. “You can come sit a little closer, though.”
Jim feels a flush, almost like nerves; that delicious warning signal of temptation so strong it threatens to overcome everything. He’s afraid he won’t be able to keep being good, if he gets any closer. But he looks at the open trust written all over Amos’ face and he knows he can do this, wants to do this the right way. He comes forward on his knees, scooping up a pillow and hugging it into his lap as he settles against the back wall of the bunk. His body is facing Amos, knees just a few centimeters away from touching the other man’s, pillow forming an unspoken barrier to keep him at ease.
And to give Jim something to do with his hands. If he can’t touch Amos, he’s likely to start touching himself. And Jim doesn’t want to change the moment in that way; feels like it would cheapen it somehow. So he pushes the pillow hard against his hips as he watches Amos’ hand glide up and down his own shaft; giving a little pinching twist to the tip now, other hand idly playing with his balls. Amos’ eyes keep losing focus, muscles tensing all over his body.
“Faster. Make yourself come for me.” Jim can’t take any more of this teasing, and Amos is looking ready to blow. Jim shivers at the sight of Amos pumping his hand roughly over himself, leaning forward now and using his whole arm in the movement, eyes squeezed shut in frantic bliss. Jim is almost completely undone when he suddenly imagines Amos reaching over and doing the same thing to him.
Amos opens his eyes, overcome by something so deep it looks like he’s drowning. “You’re making me come,” he breathes to Jim, affirming their connection in a moment that could have been entirely private. Jim’s shivers turn to shudders, and he realizes he’s coming in his own shorts, grinding himself unconsciously into the pillow. Their eyes stay locked, both straining to stay in touch as their bodies are overwhelmed. Amos groans a moment later, and a rather impressive spray of white arcs across the sheets.
Amos releases himself slowly, leans back against the wall again, lets out a contented sigh. Jim feels a bit like the room is spinning, his own orgasm had been so powerful. He looks at Amos with wide eyes, blown away by what they just shared. Amos reads his face and chuckles. “You too, huh?”
Jim nods sheepishly, caught in his accidental release, still using the pillow to hide the spot he’s sure is seeping through to the outside of his uniform.
“I’m glad,” Amos says sincerely. Then he looks at his own spray of cum, slowly soaking into the sheet next to Holden’s bent knees. “Hey, I almost got you there, Cap,” he says, sounding disappointed that he missed.
Jim grins at him, cock twitching, weakly, at the thought of that happening. “There’s always next time.” They’re back to jokes already, but that’s okay with Jim. He knows the depth of what they just shared, knows Amos does too. They chuckle and then sit in companionable silence, so close on Amos’ bed, basking in the afterglow.
Jim closes his eyes, very deliberately doesn’t open them when he feels Amos’ hand slide over and wrap around his own.