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“Yeah, ‘tis the good stuff,” the trader pointed with a dirty finger at the bottle.
Ever since the Brotherhood had taken over Overwatch, word had gotten around and more and more people had gravitated toward the area until a small trading outpost had sprouted at the foot of the hill. The merchants travelling through were as colourful and diverse as the wares they peddled. Like the person Danse was talking to at the moment.
“Are you sure?” Danse held the bottle up to the light to get a better look at the honey coloured content. “Looks more like something I would put on my bread than my T60 joints.”
“Oh, I dunno ‘bout that, buddy.” Mismatched eyes twinkled with mirth. “Fact is, I’d not touch that goo with bare hands unless ya know what you’re doin’ but it sure as fucking hell gets the old engine goin’, know what I’m sayin’?”
Danse heard “engine” and “going”, and decided it couldn’t hurt to give it a try. “How much?”
*~*
Two hours later, and Danse was starting to curse the merchant who had sold him the lubricant. He had flushed each joint one by one, and while the difference was clear, it wasn’t as dramatic as he had been led to believe.
He grabbed a rag to wipe up a trickle that had run down the left arm, ignoring the tingle in the palm of his hand as he gripped the damp cloth, which he had been using for the same purpose the entire time.
Fuck, he thought to himself. I wasted forty caps on this shit.
Danse had been ignoring the tingle in his skin each time the lubricant came into contact with his hand, but as the thought of Arthur, restrained and straining underneath him last night crossed his mind, the stiffness in his shorts was getting a little harder to ignore.
Ever since they had moved the main Brotherhood force in the Commonwealth to the former Overwatch hotel and officially opened the Commonwealth chapter, Danse and Arthur had had more access to each other than they had ever had on the Prydwen. The two of them spent most nights together in the penthouse, which was now the Elder’s quarters.
While they were out and about, Arthur was the consummate leader, commanding the men and women of the Brotherhood with tact, grace, and utter professionalism.
But once they entered the penthouse, it was Danse who was in charge. Arthur gave in, without question, without hesitation, and Danse was in control. It was what they needed, and they balanced each other out perfectly.
Danse was as professional in his daily life as Arthur was, and was normally able to put inappropriate thoughts in their proper place and carry on with his daily tasks undisturbed. But for some reason, he was having difficulty in this area today, and he became increasingly distracted as he worked on his armour.
His dick refused to obey his commands to settle down, and the longer he worked, the more careless he became, often spilling the fluid.
He wiped his hand across his brow, leaving a streak of oil and a path that tingled briefly, and his cock twitched almost painfully as he unsuccessfully tried to force thoughts of his lover out of his mind. He was getting nothing accomplished, and it was making him irritable.
He looked around, half thinking that yelling at someone might take the stress off, but the new armour bay, a large warehouse that was usually teeming with people, was nearly deserted. He hadn’t realized how late it was getting.
Now he had no relief at all.
He shook his head, vaguely realizing he was being a little bit irrational, but that realization was soon swept away by the overwhelmingly more urgent thought that it was really Arthur’s fault he was in this state.
Arthur, with his sharp blue eyes that were so commanding out in public and which turned to him with trust and love in private. Arthur, with his mouth that tasted so good and which wrapped around his cock so perfectly and willingly. Arthur, whose ass was -
Danse shook his head again.
He needed to find Arthur. Right fucking now.
*~*
Arthur stared out of the panorama window of his office just below the penthouse, watching a vertibird take off from the newly created landing pads east of the former hotel. His eyes followed the machine and by the time it was gone from view, his mind was made up.
He banged his fist against the pane and smirked at his own reflection. “It’s time.”
The promotion was overdue and the only reason Arthur had held back until now was the nature of his personal relationship with this particular soldier under his command. Despite the fact that he was treated like royalty as the last descendant of the founder of the order, he had never thought he had been handed the title of Elder on those merits alone. No, he had fought it like any other soldier, but so had Danse, and not because he slept next to Arthur almost every night. Or on top of him. Or… Arthur had to adjust his dick before he walked out of the room.
This was precisely why he had hesitated until now. The Brotherhood rewarded loyalty, bravery and commitment. Nepotism was something every Elder before him had fought very hard to keep at bay and Arthur didn’t want to be the one to break the chain. But regardless of their personal relationship, Danse had more than earned his new rank. Every soldier respected and admired him. Arthur received requests for Danse to be assigned as sponsor almost every week. There was a damn waiting list to be personally trained by him. At this point, the Brotherhood relied as much on Danse as it did on Arthur’s leadership.
Behind closed doors Arthur was able to give in, give up and trust the man he loved with his body and soul, and he liked it - a lot. But out here he was very much the one in control and he liked that too. However, this morning their eyes met in the mirror as he watched Danse shave after they had fucked in the shower, and Arthur had suddenly realised it didn’t matter because Danse didn’t want to take anything away from him. All he ever did was give, even when he ordered Arthur to kneel and open his mouth to receive. It was all for him because Danse loved and respected him.
Giving Danse more control and freedom outside their private relationship would only benefit the Brotherhood, because everyone trusted Danse with their life, and in his own case, with his heart as well. Striding down the corridor, the corner of Arthur’s mouth twitched when he pictured Danse’s face when he would tell him.
*~*
The first person Arthur encountered when he strode out of his room looking for Danse was a scribe. Her eyes widened and she coughed. Arthur raised an eyebrow. “How can I help you, Scribe Dawson?”
“S-sir… Paladin Danse is looking for you.”
“Very well,” he replied, confused. He dismissed the scribe and carried on, wondering at her strange reaction.
The next person he encountered, a knight, reacted similarly. “Oh Elder! Paladin Danse seems to be looking for you.” The knight wouldn’t catch his eyes. As soon as Arthur acknowledged the soldier, the knight, clearly uncomfortable, departed as quickly as possible.
After that, Arthur came across a few more people who awkwardly advised him that Paladin Danse was looking for him, but he also noticed more people than usual were avoiding him altogether.
Despite asking, he couldn’t seem to get a clear answer on where Danse actually was right now. Apparently, he was in the mess, then the kitchens, then the barracks. Arthur sighed. Maybe the best way to find him would be to wait in Danse’s favourite place… the power armour bay.
*~*
Coherent thought had ceased to be possible about five minutes ago, all that was left now was, “WANT!”
But fucking Arthur was nowhere to be fucking found. Fuck! Yes, please. But where? Where was he?
Every step ached. Every second that passed, pure agony. His skin burned which was why he had discarded his greasy tank top a few minutes ago; he couldn’t recall where. Maybe someone had even shouted at him but all that had been background noise compared to the roaring in his ears. Blood was pumping so hard through his body, Danse could feel every single heartbeat.
His cock was straining against the confines of his slacks. He vaguely understood that this might be the reason why every person he had encountered in his search had flushed scarlet and more or less fled down the corridor after mumbling they had not seen the Elder but would make sure to tell him Danse was looking for him. But none of that mattered at this point. All that mattered was the need to be buried balls deep inside Arthur again until he screamed Danse’s name. And he would be as soon as he could fucking find him.
His steps carried him back where the madness had begun. The large warehouse serving as power armour bay, usually teeming with people, was all but deserted except for a shadow on the wall. The outline of a tall man, proud stance, broad shoulders…
Danse pounced.
*~*
Supper time had come and gone an hour ago, and most people were on leisure time, leaving the armour bay deserted and echoing eerily. Arthur stood by Danse’s armour, taking in the mess left by disassembled joints and a partially spilled bottle of some kind of lubricant. Arthur trailed his finger through the mess, and his fingertip tingled with warmth. He rubbed his fingers together, vaguely enjoying the heat that seemed to spread through his body.
Danse wasn’t here right now. There was no sign of him besides the uncharacteristic mess by his station. But he knew Danse, and he knew he would be here soon.
Arthur heard him before he saw him, but even that brief warning wasn’t enough as Danse stormed through the large, empty warehouse to where Arthur stood. He turned just as the other man reached him, and before he could say anything, Danse’s mouth was on his and his tongue was down his throat.
Danse was normally so in control when they were together, but there was something about him today… something almost feral. He was shirtless and slick with sweat and smudges of what seemed to be the same oil he had been using on his armour. His hands were rough as he pulled Arthur’s clothing off quickly, destroying zippers and popping snaps off as he went.
His hands were slick as they feverishly roamed Arthur’s skin, leaving a trail of tingles and heat wherever they roamed. The warmth seemed to seep into Arthur’s brain, and before long he was as eager for Danse as Danse was for him.
He stopped trying to speak. He stopped even thinking as the heat overwhelmed him. He began tugging at Danse’s clothing as well, trying to reveal as much of his body as he could. He did not wait for permission. He did not ask. He just responded.
The sound of tearing echoed through the empty bay as Danse ripped Arthur’s underwear away, and finally they were both bare. Arthur was desperate by now, desperate to feel every inch of Danse around him and in him.
He gasped as Danse suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face the armour resting in the frame, before grasping him by the wrists and yanking them up to the handles on the front of the armour.
“Hold on,” Danse roughly growled, and Arthur felt a chill as Danse stepped away for a moment. But he was back again soon, and Arthur looked up as Danse grabbed him by the wrists and strapped him to the armour with a tie-down.
Once he was secured into place, Danse was behind him again, and Arthur could feel him at his back, his erection pressed to his ass as Danse yanked him close by the hips. His mouth was on the back of his neck, and Arthur gasped as he felt Danse bite him roughly on the shoulder. The sting of it brought him out of his fog of lust for a moment, but when Danse’s hands, slick with the mysterious lubricant, gripped his ass and then his cock, the tingling heat overwhelmed him and he soon became lost in desire once again.
There was no buildup, no taunting, none of their usual play. Danse bore forward until he bottomed out, his hands fastened on Arthur’s hips to hold him in place and all Arthur could think was, Yes. Yes. Yes!
The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the armour bay. Thrusts just shy of brutal filled Arthur again and again. He pressed his face into his biceps, his teeth almost penetrating skin until he couldn’t take it any more. He threw his head back, their skulls connected but neither of them cared. Arthur felt his balls lifting and still it was not enough.
“Harder!” Arthur ordered, breaking every rule they had established between them.
It must have been the wrong thing to do because Danse stopped and Arthur wanted to scream. He tried pushing his hips onto Danse’s cock but Danse wasn’t having it. Arthur made a sound in the back of his throat. He needed-
“What...what are we doing?” Danse panted, lifting his head out of the crook of Arthur’s neck. His fingers flexed but he kept his hold on Arthur’s hips, making it impossible for him to fuck himself on Danse’s dick like he wanted to. No, like he needed to at this point.
“Stop talking and fuck me!” Arthur barked which only resulted in Danse staggering away from him. Arthur whined and tried to twist in his bonds. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Danse looking anxiously left and right as if he only now realised where they were.
“What’s going on?” Danse’s eyes were wide and black.
Arthur was past caring about the rules or submitting or anything. He pulled hard at his hands and snapped, “Let me go.”
Danse nodded and undid the restraints binding Arthur to the power armour. His hands, still slick with the lubricant, were greasy and uncooperative, but he managed to remove the bindings after a moment. He stepped back, eyeing his hands and rubbing his slick fingers together. His brow rose as realization slowly began to dawn on him.
But before he could speak, Arthur, newly freed, was pushing turning him around and pushing him back against the power armour. Danse held on. The effects of the lubricant were fading in him, but just peaking in Arthur. Danse had to admit to himself that he didn’t mind this unusual aggression from Arthur, and was certainly willing and eager to go along with this role reversal.
He grasped his armour tight with his still-slick hands and held on while Arthur stepped up behind him, pressing the tip of his dick to Danse’s ass and sliding in with one hard thrust.
Danse grunted against the sting, but when Arthur reached around and grabbed his still-hard cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts, the pleasure increased and the pain faded, and he began to push back against him, craning his head around briefly for a rough, biting kiss.
“I know...I know…mine...so perfect...together…,” Arthur was babbling as he fucked Danse hard enough to shake the whole power armour station. The whole damn complex could probably hear them, and Danse couldn’t care less. All that mattered was the man he loved was fucking the breath out of him, and right now, he didn’t want it any other way.
“Love you...love you...fuck…fuck…Danse....,” Arthur pulled his ass back and pounded into him. The armour clanked against the side of the frame, Arthur chanted his name, and Danse saw stars as he came, spurting thick, white ropes over the black metal of his T-60. Even as he came, he could feel the telltale pull of Arthur’s cock as he followed him into blissful oblivion.
After a few minutes Arthur pulled out of him with a grunt, his forehead resting on Danse’s shoulder. Thankfully, the orgasm seemed to have tempered the effects of the wonder grease which was a blessing because Danse didn’t think he had another round in him quite yet. Every muscle in his body relaxed and together, he and Arthur slid to the floor until he ended up half sitting in Arthur’s lap on top of their shredded clothes.
Danse chuckled breathlessly, “I can’t even remember the last time someone fucked me like this.”
Arthur bent forward, leaving soft kisses on the side of his neck. “Do you mind? I know we-”
Danse twisted around and kissed the rest of the sentence out of Arthur’s mouth. They parted with a soft smacking sound. “No, I don’t mind at all. Just…” His eyes darting around the room.
“What?”
Danse wrinkled his nose, “Maybe we pick a more private location next time?”
“Next time?” Arthur’s smirk fade into a frown as he spotted something lying on the floor a few feet away. Danse followed his gaze. “What is that stuff?”
Danse shrugged, “I bought it off a trader this morning. It’s grease - or so I thought.”
“It’s dangerous,” Arthur replied.
After a moment, the pair reluctantly rose and got dressed as best they could in their damaged clothing. When Danse pushed the grease-stained rag out of the way, a brief tingle ran up his arm, down his spine, and directly to his cock. He dropped the rag quickly, then picked it up again with his screwdriver.
“I don’t think we should let this get out into the general Brotherhood population,” he commented.
“Agreed. Let’s clean this up and keep it locked up somewhere safe. I think this could be dangerous if it got into -or onto- the wrong hands.
Together they tidied the mess, carefully cleaning the half-gone bottle of lubricant and wrapped it in a clean rag, and then together they left the (fortunately still deserted) armour bay, and headed to their room.
*~*
Summer came to a close and fall was at its muted but still colourful peak. As the days began to shorten, Arthur was busy with requisitions and work, the newly-promoted Sentinel Danse was busy with new recruits and postings from the Capital Wasteland, and the days and nights were passing quickly with little time to spend together.
But Arthur was looking forward to the upcoming weekend, having ensured that he and Danse both had nothing pressing. Tidying up his papers, he reached into the drawer and removed a small bottle. Gripping it tightly, he went in search of Danse.
He found him in the armour bay, as expected. Arthur smiled to himself, then slipped behind a pallet of supplies and reached into his pocket.
When he came up behind Danse a moment later, the other man smiled at him briefly, before wiping his hands and standing. “I just came to say hi,” Arthur told him. “I had a spare moment.”
Danse smiled at him and they chatted for a moment, before Arthur turned to leave. Always circumspect, there was rarely any display of affection between them in public. But unusually, Arthur ran his finger along Danse’s cheek before he left, leaving an oily smear that Danse did not notice.
Arthur smiled to himself as walked through the armour bay and then headed towards his suite, waiting for Danse to follow.
He didn’t have to wait long.
