The Unit Permissive Environment

NOTE 1: 2IC = second-in-command.

NOTE 2: SERE = "Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape." This is the special training for 'high risk of capture' military personnel.

SPOILERS: Season 1 ep. "Non Permissive Environment"

*

Bob Brown found himself in an unimaginable predicament.

It stretched his acting abilities to pretend he was enjoying the old man's sex-partnering, but he had cozened a ride by dangling dick-bait, so now he had to go through with it.

The glass of whisky Rupert graciously provided him helped Bob get through the blowjob.

He set the empty glass on an end table and got down on his knees, kneeling between Rupert's spread, naked thighs. Bob reminded himself not to hesitate, and down he went, bobbing his mouth on a strange cock. It tasted funny. Or maybe that was just the old guy's smell. He hoped to get it over with quickly. If his host ejaculated, he thought, then he'd probably get out of an ass-fucking. No way the geezer could get it up again before they reached port.

Bob had no illusions that ole Rupert wanted to top him. Rich queens who owned yachts and went trolling for companionship in dive bars were going to want to be in charge.

His lips sucked on the prickhead, and Rupert moaned with pleasure as Bob speared his tongue-tip into the tiny slit. Then he stuck out his tongue and began licking the swelling knob all over. Rupert gasped with delight.

"Ooohhh, that feels fantastic," the aging gentleman groaned.

Bob firmed his grip on the mushrooming cock and pumped it faster, lapping up the hot, salty precome and swallowing it down as if starved for it. When he'd cleaned the glans of all that precome, Bob opened his lips wide and slid them down around his host's boner. Then he drew his lips up and took in the head and only part of the shaft, the rest he busily pumped as he drew in his cheeks and started to suck. His sucking was strong and enthusiastic, bringing Rupert's lust to the boiling point.

Crap! The old poof pulled him off before coming.

In short order, Bob found himself naked and face-down on the bed, thighs spread as this stranger crawled up between them. He managed to suppress a shudder and forced his muscles to relax. When cold, oily lube squirted onto his sphincter, he used his SERE training to tune out most of what was happening to his lower half. He barely registered the strange cock's penetration, the burning in his ass, the churning of his erstwhile benefactor's hips against his buttocks.

Bob Brown could handle it, but he wasn't having a good time.

He turned a put-upon sigh into something approximating a pleasure-sound, then tucked his head onto his crossed arms, hiding his face, lest his acting fail and give him away.

~o~0~o~

His unit was razzing him about how he got out.

Sitting around the break room table, playing coy as his team laughed, Bob was grateful that the rest of his trip home had been so uneventful. It had given him time to compose himself fully and practice how to manage the eventual, inevitable questions. So far, so good; they didn't believe he had fucked the old guy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a look from Mac. The blonde man's face said the same thing as everyone else's, but his eyes said he knew Bob was lying, and that he wasn't happy about it.

~o~0~o~

"You know I had to, Mac," Bob stated as persuasively as he could, cradling his lover's cheek in his calloused palm.

The 2IC's gaze flicked around the motel room then settled, meeting the steady brown eyes he adored. He sighed, letting go of his displeasure. "I know," he conceded. "It just..."

"Yeah," Bob finished, getting him off the hook. Guys don't talk about their feelings. Especially Mac. His sexy, ass-kicking, screwed-up Mac. Bob dragged his thumb across his blonde lover's bottom lip and smiled invitingly at him. Unspoken understanding passed between them. The matter was closed. Now it was time to move on, to continue to pursue their comforting, comfortable relationship.

"You want to top?" Bob offered, as they efficiently stripped each other, thinking that Mac might want to renew his claim, so to speak. They could worry about whose turn it was later.

"Mmm," Mac shook his head no. He tossed a pre-lubed condom onto the nightstand and lay down on the mattress, knees bent, feet flat. So relaxed and inviting.

Bob crawled up from the foot of the bed, settling onto his stomach between those strong legs, then started to tongue-fuck his lover. He flicked rapidly across the corrugated rim, ran the pointed tip in circles around the already-quivering muscle, lapped at the opening. When he felt the sphincter relax, he pushed his tongue in deeply, to flicker over the sensitive nerves, thrusting in and out. Mac tossed his head and groaned, gripping the sheets as his lover tortured him so sweetly.

Pressing closer, nuzzling his nose against Mac's perineum, Bob pushed his tongue in as deep as he could, wriggling it inside Mac's twitching anus. His hands spread Mac's cheeks wider. Mac keened, pressing his hips in against his lover's face in little, rhythmic movements.

"Yeah," Bob breathed against his flesh. "Ride that tongue, baby." He thrust his tongue back inside.

Mac moaned and started rocking, pushing Bob's tongue deeper into him. Not enough! Not deep enough; not big enough; not hard enough. Mac wanted to be split open, stretched and burning, taken to his limits. He wanted his body pounded into, his nerve-endings set ablaze.

Mac grabbed the undersides of his thighs and drew them away from Bob's strong shoulders, folding his legs until his knees were nearly pressed to his collarbones. His lover picked up the cue immediately, laying a flat, sucking kiss to his asshole and reaching for the condom. Briefly, it crossed Mac's mind that this was another advantage to screwing a guy from his unit; prompt response to non-verbal instructions was good for more than just sneaking up on the objective.

Sheathed, Bob slid up Mac's body, kissing the hot skin as he slithered across the sweat-slick expanse. He pinned Mac's hips down as he claimed a kiss from those hard yet tender lips, lined up his throbbing cock with Mac's sensitive anus and thrust inside to the hilt.

Every slam of his hips was met with an answering thrust. Bob's world quickly narrowed to pulling back then driving forward, burying himself inside his lover over and over.

After an eternity, a moment, Bob became aware that his orgasm was approaching; he could feel it tingling in his balls. He started to snap and grind his hips against Mac's ass faster, harder, more urgently.

Mac's moaning climbed up into a shout as his body went rigid and his ass clamped down in a vice-grip on the pistoning member inside of him. His cock jerked as it delivered it's load onto his and Bob's stomachs.

The scorching heat and the stranglehold of Mac's sphincter, combined with his uncontrolled utterances, sent Bob over the edge. He grunted as his climax struck seconds after Mac's. He buried himself to the hilt and gave a few sharp thrusts of his pelvis as his come erupted from his balls like napalm.

They collapsed into twin sated, exhausted puddles, sprawling side by side on the king-sized mattress, relaxed and panting.

"You have my permission to do this after every mission you fuck-up," Mac informed Bob solemnly.

Then they both started to laugh.