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“It would only take a little bit they said” 1720 grumbled, punting a rock. They were stationed in–God knows where–guarding a warehouse for the supposed supply delivery. 5007 looked over to 1720, the Metrocop shifting his balance impatiently.
“Have me stationed with the guy who says less shit–than a fucking wall” 1720 trembled, his fists clenched. 5007 wondered if his hands were white at that point. Looking up to the sky, 1720 groaned. “They said they’d be here at what? 1400? It’s been five hours!” 1720 swung around kicking the wall, the Metrocop tumbled over in pain, groaning.
“The fuck are you looking at?” 1720 hissed, attempting to mask his embarrassment.
5007’s gaze snapped back to ahead of the warehouse, readjusting the gun in his grasp.
1720 grabbed his weapon, he stood tall at his post, subtly trying to kick the pain out of his foot. When they were first stationed here, 1720 bragged about his kill count; recalling when he apparently cleared out an entire rebel outpost unscathed. 5007 awkwardly acknowledged him, keeping his sight on the lookout for the supply truck. Clearly bored, 1720 picked at 5007’s appearance, groaning when 5007 didn’t elicit a reaction.
5007 stood there, lost in thought, occasionally darting his sight to 1720. Fields surrounded them, nothing and nobody in plain sight for miles. Why did they place a warehouse here? 5007 couldn’t say.
1720 groaned again, his head slumping down. “Fucking hate guard duty.” He muttered under his breath, boredom melting his brain.
“…It isn’t so bad,” 5007 chirped in, his grip on the gun tightened.
1720’s head snapped up at 5007, the Wallhammer suddenly overthinking if he said the wrong thing. It was the most 5007 had said since they were stationed here.
The Metrocop sighed, rolling his head away from 5007. “You’re boring,” gripping his SMG in one hand, his arm relaxed, the gun dangling from his hand. “Wonder what I did to get stationed with a guy that finds guard duty fun.” The words laced with venom. The Wallhammer could have sworn 1720 narrowed his eyes at him.
5007 looked away, a faint “sorry” mumbled beneath his helmet.
“It’s hilarious honestly,” 1720 pointed at the Wallhammer with his free hand, “a big guy like you too nervous to say shit,”
1720 laughed, obnoxious and harsh. “You weren’t cut out for the job,”
5007 ignored the Metrocop, his gaze fixed in front of him. A huff from the man beside him, ticked off he didn’t get a reaction once again.
1720 sighed, the rattle of his gear slowly dissipating, and before 5007 could realize it, the Metrocop had wandered off somewhere. Fields stretched miles out from the warehouse, if 1720 wanted to skip this job, it wouldn’t be hard to catch him running away. 5007 carefully treaded his footsteps, head turning the corner.
1720 leaned against the wall, his mask propped up enough to gain access to his mouth. The beer bottle tip pressed against his lips as he gulped down the liquid. His eyes snapped to 5007 watching the man drink, hastily pulling his helmet down to cover the rest of his face.
“You want a fuckin’ show or something?” 1720 snapped, the bottle falling to the side of his body.
5007’s eyes snapped to the bottle. It wasn’t a problem he wanted to deal with, it was up to Overwatch to decide what would happen to him. He turned back, heading to his post. 1720 leisurely following after.
An indefinite amount of time passed, the Wallhammer never really cared to keep track. The grass swayed with the wind, yellowed and frail; a reminder of the Combine’s occupation. He ground his foot into the gravel surrounding the warehouse, nudging an empty bottle away with the tip of his boot. Despite everything, not one truck was in sight. It didn’t matter to 5007 how long it took, being partnered with 1720 was another story.
The Metrocop found himself another drink—5007 didn’t see him smuggle it back. Had he gone back for more? He wished to be able to tell the Metrocop off for his drinking habits, his throat would probably tighten before he got the first word out. They were on duty after all. He wasn’t too excited to be scolded by Overwatch for letting his partner drink.
But 1720 had been quiet for a bit, and anxiety pooled within 5007. He hesitantly peered over at 1720, the Metrocop was staring right back. With no shame, he kept eyeing him, his sight slightly trailed down the Wallhammer’s body. 1720 chucked the empty bottle into the somber fields. He was quiet, too concentrated on 5007’s figure. Heat rose to 5007’s cheeks, turning his head away from 1720.
“Shit, I’m not gay,” 1720 mumbled, “but, I’m bored as hell.”
Confusion hit 5007, the two things had nothing in common. What was he trying to get at? 5007 felt like he would burn a hole into the ground with how intensely he glared down. 1720 groaned, mentally berating himself on what he would say next.
“You wanna fuck?”
What? 5007’s body stiffened, glaring back at the Metrocop in shock. Had he heard him right? Did he mean it? Thoughts flooded 5007’s mind, 1720 had asked it like—It was a basic question. He wanted to answer, hell—he considered it. What if he had misheard the question? 1720 shifted his stance, his working optic glaring into 5007 waiting for an answer.
“…Are you sure..?” 5007’s came out weak, his throat had tightened, forcing himself to push the words out. 1720 cackled to himself at 5007’s response. The Wallhammer looked away, embarrassed.
“Yeah? Why would I ask.”
5007 glanced around, no delivery near. What if they were caught? It had been hours since the ETA, and it was driving 1720 mad. Maybe if he indulged 1720 on this one thing, he’d relax for however long it took.
“..Okay.” 5007 agreed, still hesitant about the whole ordeal.
1720 mounted his gun, striding over to the taller soldier. He glared up at the Wallhammer. 5007’s feet felt like they were superglued to the ground.
“What are you waiting for?”
Oh–
1720 wanted him to do something
With no time to react, 1720 pulled the two against the wall, 1720’s back hitting the wall, 5007 towering over the Metrocop. 5007’s gaze softened, in shock at the Metrocop’s strength. He was taller than him—bulkier than him. 1720 hands nimbly traced over 5007’s groin, running the tips of his fingers over the armour. He muttered under his breath, “It’s like a damn puzzle.” The digits brushed over 5007’s groin, and the taller man hissed, blood rushing down.
Thoughts raced through 5007’s mind, guide him, or let him figure it out? He felt puddy, like his feet were slowly sinking into the gravel. Was this really happening right now? Too focused on the job to indulge in such carnal desires. Waves of nervousness shot through him, heart racing. 1720 looked up at 5007, his hands still trying to figure out the uniform.
“Just tell me how to do it, big guy,”
5007’s attention snapped to the Metrocop, a flush spreading through him. He let 1720 feel him up without even bothering to help. A wave of embarrassment flooded through his tall figure, 5007’s shaky hand reached out to guide 1720’s hand through it, the Wallhammer wanted to recoil from the intimacy, 1720 on the other hand seemed unbothered, a pinch of annoyance at the complexity of 5007’s uniform. Fiddling with the zippers and buckles, a noise of success emitted from the Metrocop.
The Wallhammer’s length sprung free, 1720 took in the sight, looking up at the taller soldier in awe.
“Shit— You were packing that?” 1720 exhaled, a hunger in his eyes the Wallhammer couldn’t pick up on. He wrapped his hand around 5007’s cock, the Wallhammer flinched in response, slightly bucking into his hand.
5007 winced, the precum beading at the tip made a proficient lube for 1720’s hand to glide along the length. He wished he had a shell to cower in, the touch he neglected–now coming from a man he wouldn’t have imagined to touch him—was now overwhelming. A whine bubbled from his throat, everywhere began to feel hot. 1720 slowly stroked his hand from the base to the tip, lightly squeezing as he went up. 5007 tilted his head back, a shaky exhale caught by 1720’s hearing. The speed increased slightly with each jerk, and each coherent thought from 5007 faded. The worries of being caught were shoved to the back of his mind, the feeling all too overwhelming.
1720 just chuckled, the rhythm of his hand never faltered, taking in the texture of the Wallhammer.
“Try not to get ahead of yourself,” God no, 5007 was far from it. Shame, pleasure, 5007 couldn’t distinguish the two anymore. He couldn’t believe he was in the middle of nowhere letting 1720 give him a handjob. The gloved hand twisted around the tip, 5007 was going to go mad. Was he always this sensitive? Rutting against smooth leather, his mind began to swim.
Without warning 1720 tightened his grip on 5007’s length, gaining a hiss in response. 1720 furrowed his brows, he was jealous—pent-up and he's over here jerking the Wallhammer off. His pace sped up, an unrelenting speed. 5007 subconsciously bucked against 1720’s hands, a smirk formed under 1720’s helmet. He twisted, applied different types of pressure, attempting to figure out which spot would give 5007 just a bit more pleasure. 1720 never cared about other's gratification, but watching them fall apart under his hand? It was addicting to even think about.
In a swift motion, 1720 fell to his knees, the height difference between them made 5007 realize something about himself he didn’t want to dive deeper into. The Metrocop’s helmet raised enough to let 1720 gain access to 5007’s cock, the lips 5007 was lucky enough to glance at, kissed along the underside, soft for a man like him. The change in sensation sent sparks up the Wallhammer’s spine.
1720–completely blind—twisted his hand around the tip of the length, using his tongue to map out the cock. Sacrificing one sense for another was worth it, 5007’s knees grew weak, not knowing where to place his hands. It would be so much easier without the helmet, 1720 thought to himself. He’d get to see what was happening, but there was no way in hell he’d show his face just for a quickie in the middle of a job.
His tongue circled the tip, earning a whine from 5007. The Metrocop began to worry, the length twitched, pleading. His cock was—massive. 1720 never would have thought that this came from the promotion. Saliva pooled in his mouth, he gave a long lick to the underside another time, spit dripping onto the gravel below.
His head bobbed back up to the top, his lips enveloping the tip of 5007’s cock. His hand twisted and jerked the areas his mouth couldn’t reach. Obscene noises echoed off the steel warehouse, slurping, sucking, wet kisses. 5007 glared at the sight below in disbelief, why him? 5007 knew, probably. Conflicted, pleasured thoughts muddled the answer he created in his mind.
The Metrocop took as much of the length as he could down his throat, 5007’s hands awkwardly stayed at his side. Oh how desperately he wanted to place his hands on 1720’s head, a line he won’t touch when it comes to the Metrocop. 1720’s hand twisted at the hilt, a gagging sound followed by a hum, drove 5007 closer to the top. His hand and head jerked simultaneously before the speeds of each changed. 5007 winced, his hips bucking into the hot wet walls, wrapped around him.
“I’m—” 5007 began
1720’s head popped off the length, “Close? Yeah, I haven’t even had a turn.” 1720 finished for him, his hands letting go, leaving 5007’s dick twitching in response. 5007 clasped a hand around his helmet, too ashamed to look down. Relief or disappointment, 5007 didn’t know anymore.
5007’s head turned away, his face hot with embarrassment. Pent up, frustrated, 1720 slid his pants off. The Wallhammer gazed back at the Metrocop, his chest pressed against the wall. An obnoxious moan spilled from his lips as his hand wrapped around his neglected cock. The loud, stuck-up soldier he was stationed with, bent over and jerked himself off like—a whore.
1720 was glad to have the helmet to cover his face, without it, he wondered if he would be able to act as confident.
Testing the waters, 5007 grasped 1720’s hip with one hand, his cock slipping in between the Metrocop’s asscheeks. 1720 moaned wantonly, a satisfied reaction to the Wallhammer’s impulsive decision. 5007 rutted against the smaller man, a new friction after he was denied before. 1720 arched his back into each rut, his leaking cock dripping onto the gravel as he stroked desperately.
“J—Just, uugh— give me— your hand.” 1720 panted, the side of his now resting against the wall, his glowing optic glaring back at 5007. The Wallhammer followed his lead, hesitantly reaching his hand out to 1720, as his cock thrust against his ass. The smaller man wrapped his mouth around 5007’s middle finger, the lewd sight made his cock twitch against 1720’s skin. A grin curled on 1720’s lips at the reaction. His tongue circled around the digit, recreating the action from when he was on his knees before 5007, moans vibrating around it. 1720 pulled off of 5007, a string of saliva breaking as he pulled away.
5007’s other hand tightened around the Metrocop’s hip, bending over 1720 each grind. Precum dribbled onto the Metrocop’s skin. Compared to 1720, 5007 was massive. The sheer girth looked as if it would tear the smaller man apart. 1720 couldn’t wait.
“Use your finger to– NNggk–!” The Metrocop struggled, pleasure jumbling his thoughts. 5007 understood 1720’s broken sentence, the coated digit pressed against the smaller man’s entrance. A groan fell from 1720, the stretch of his finger combined with the jerking of his own hand, created a sensation that was too intoxicating. 5007 pushed farther into 1720, shameless moans emitted from the man below. His walls tightened around 5007, the taller man wondered what it would feel like to be inside him. As if it were a miracle, the Wallhammer was able to slip in another finger, scissoring 1720 open.
“Fff-uck! Fuck–! Ughnngh!” 1720’s mouth was agape, gasping for air with each thrust.
The tips of his fingers glided against his prostate, 1720’s noises grew louder, his legs weak as 5007’s other hand held him up.
5007 didn’t believe the sight he was seeing, part of him believed he was dreaming. 1720 was pressed against the wall, his snarky comments replaced with moans and pleas, 5007’s fingers buried deep in the other. Ignoring the fact that the man was still ordering him around. His fingers aimed for 1720’s prostate, hitting it each time. Each moan louder than the last, 5007 thought they could be heard from miles away. The Metrcop’s balance relied on the wall and the Wallhammer.
1720 panted, drool dribbled down his chin, a shakey hand pulled the helmet down. “Hahh— Use your dick— Nggmhh!”
The taller man’s fingers pulled out, the tip of his cock now pressing into 1720. His hands gripped the Metrocop’s waist, his length pressing into him inch by inch. 1720’s forehead rested on the wall, the stretch made him cry out every time. Larger hands gripped onto his hips as he pushed in.
With a snap of his hips, 5007 entered halfway, 1720’s eyes squeezing shut. “Aggh! Hah-Nn!”
“…T—Tight.” 5007’s hands tightened around the exposed skin. His hips rolled experimentally, 1720’s squeezed around him, each thrust felt tighter as he went deeper. The Metrocop grasped onto the wall, his knees wobbled. He’s never felt more full before, every shallow movement felt as if he were going to be torn apart.
Impulsively, 5007 shoved himself to the hilt. The man below yelped, he was stretched to the fullest, pressure against his prostate sent fireworks up his nerves. 5007 pressed his head against the Metrocop’s back, breath heavy as warm velvety walls surrounded him. 1720 shifted his legs, the movement around his length garnered a groan from the taller man.
“Nghmk— Move—“ 1720 ordered, his crisp voice muffled behind the familiar mask.
5007 rolled his hips gently, the sheer girth made 1720 cry out despite the speed. The blowing of the wind replaced with the lewd noises of their quickie. Splitting him open, 1720 tried jerking himself off, the mixing of stimulation muddled his brain. Breathy orders to go faster echoed as 5007 followed through with them.
His pace quickened, 5007’s dick hitting the nerves within 1720 with each thrust. 1720 melted with each sensation, dishevelled and panting. His uniform was crumpled up and at his knees like a slut too impatient for cock. 5007’s gentle and listening demeanour compared to 1720’s spouting and demanding one, led to him being taken care of 5007. Ego so high he was ashamed to admit he liked it.
5007’s cock was now pounding into 1720’s ass, more eager to chase the pleasure rather than the first reason he agreed to this affair in the beginning. All worries of being caught dissipated with each snap of his hips, 1720 was shut up completely, snarky comments replaced with high-pitched mewls.
The Metrocop’s cock leaked onto the ground, finally wrapping his hand around it to match the pace of 5007’s thrusts. Not long after, 1720 came onto the ground, his fluids painting the gravel below. 5007 chased his high, thrusting into 1720. Overstimulation shot through 1720, crying out as his body trembled.
5007’s hands gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, relentlessly pounding into 1720.
“Nngh— Fuckfuck—“ The Metrocop panted, pleasure muddling into pain.
“Sorry— Hahh— sorry—“ Wincing, 5007 snapped his hips into 1720 roughly, his head resting on 1720’s back as he buried himself to the hilt, spilling into the Metrocop. Seed dribbled down the smaller man’s legs.
“I’m— I’m gonna fucking kill you—“ 1720 muttered.