Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hunter moans. This one likes to hear it. This one wants to think he’s good. Heavy panting breath heats Hunter’s cheek. This man likes to take his time, get his money’s worth. He grunts in Hunter’s ear as he pulls out then plunges back into Hunter’s stretched ass. He pushes Hunter’s chest harder against the wall.

“You gonna come for me, slut?” He will try to hold out until Hunter does.

“Yeah,” Hunter groans in response. “So close.” That’s what he wants to hear.

“My cock is the best cock, isn’t it? You like it thick and hard, don’t you?”

Hunter’s hands are pinned under his john’s hands. The body behind him is strong, but Hunter knows he’d win a fight. The other man knows it, too. It’s why he likes Hunter. He likes the stronger man’s submission. He likes control. And for a little while, Hunter is happy to give it.

“Yeah. Want it so bad.” Fingers wrap around his erection. The stroke is rough, unlubricated. His breath catches. The cock inside him slows, matching the rhythm of the hand around him. This one likes to think he’s a good lover, that Hunter wants to be with him, that he gives Hunter something no one else does.

Hunter’s eyes are closed. He’s thinking about someone else when he comes, splattering the alley wall. The wall doesn’t mind; he’s not the first to leave semen on it.

“Yeah, good boy. Now take my big cock, you fucking slut.”

The body straightens, bruising fingers grip hard onto his waist, pulling his ass away from the wall. Hunter bends forward, ready. His head gets wrenched back by his long hair. This is what he wants, what he’s been waiting for.

The thrusts are fast, pounding into him. Hips slap against his already abused buttocks. The cock is forced deeper inside him. It never hurts enough. Hunter lets out little cries, encouragement for the man to take him harder, hears the gasp of release and feels cum filling him. Fingers dig red marks into his skin. He shudders as the movements slow, as his torso is pulled up and kisses pressed to his neck.

“You’re so fucking good. Next time, I need you naked. Want to see all of you.” The man slips out. He feels cum drip down his crack. Hands spread his ass cheeks. “Look at that greedy hole.” Fingers collect the cum and shove it back into him. Hunter moans. “Gonna do so many things to you.” The hand slaps against his bare ass. Hunter remembers to flinch. “See you soon, slut.”

He likes to leave Hunter a mess wherever they meet. He likes to fuck Hunter in alleys and the back rooms of seedy bars. He likes to bend Hunter over like the whore he is. Hunter has never seen his face.

Hunter waits until footsteps tell him the john has turned the corner, then carefully pulls up his pants. He’s got to clean up, then he has one other person to see tonight, and they don’t like to be sloppy seconds.

Chapter Text

Hunter doesn’t know any of their real names. They don’t know his. Cid had arranged the meeting between Hunter and the Theelin who sends him out. Cid hadn’t told him what the job was, only that it was lucrative.

He found the offer confusing. Why would anyone have an interest in him except as a soldier? Chiyn smiled at his naïveté, “Does it matter, Human, the assignment, as long as you can complete it?” The implication was clear. It was just his body, already a tool for violence, why not this? Why throw himself in the way of danger, when, instead, he could surrender himself to pleasure?

And the credits are plentiful even after Cid and Chiyn take their cut. Might as well get paid for something he’d been doing for free.

Tech doesn’t ask where the funds come from. Wrecker is just happy to be well fed and to be able to buy more things with Omega. Hunter doesn’t know what Crosshair thinks. He tells himself he doesn’t care.

Cid gives them fewer jobs, happy with the money he brings in, and that means they are available to help Rex and Echo. The danger is still there, just shifted. It feels better somehow.

And Chiyn was right. It’s just a different kind of mission. It’s still his body on the line, but at least he’s not likely to fall down a mountain.

*

“Fuck…you’re good.” The man groans as Hunter swallows his cock almost to the base.

He’d better be good. He’s had years of practice with three different men. And you don’t suck a dick like Wrecker’s without learning how to open your throat.

Hunter knows a lot of tricks, mostly because of Tech. They’d taken it as a challenge to see who could break Tech’s concentration the fastest. Tech gave them notes and new techniques to try. Hunter’s favorite move is carefully pushing his knuckle into the sensitive area behind the balls, slowly massaging deeper until that other pleasure center is reached and stimulated. He tried this first on Crosshair, who’d come almost immediately, but Crosshair was easy. Teasing Crosshair, edging him, getting him to last was the real trick.

The man has his fingers entwined in Hunter’s hair as Hunter kneels shirtless in front of him. He’s left long scrapes on Hunter’s torso. They’re on a ship. The man might be a pilot, or he’s just sitting in the chair as part of the fantasy.

Hunter comes up for air, then tries to take him all again.

“No, no…mmph…not too fast.” The fingers tighten, keeping Hunter’s head up. “Take your time. Want to watch. Pretty boys need to give me a show. I paid extra for you and she said it wasn’t just for your looks.” He cups Hunter’s chin, then strokes his thumb around his mouth, pulling down his bottom lip. “Open.” He does and the thumb pushes against his tongue. Hunter closes his mouth around it and sucks. “Yeah, pretty boy, you know what I want to see.”

Wrecker likes a show. Wrecker likes to be fondled and stroked. Wrecker likes kisses and licks. Wrecker likes to watch.

Hunter pretends this man is Wrecker, though with a more manageable size. He wraps his tattooed hand around the base of the erection and starts sucking kisses under the tip. He holds the shaft against his cheek as he mouths it. He lets spit and pre-cum make a mess on his face before swirling his tongue around the head.

“That’s it…That’s it,” the man moans.

Hunter’s lips envelope the glans. People like his lips. Chiyn calls them full and expressive. She tells him to use that to his advantage. He kisses back down the john’s length, letting his tongue and bottom lip drag along it, watching the man’s eyes drink up what Hunter offers. He keeps his hand movements slow, long teasing strokes, then he cups the man’s balls, pushing a knuckle behind them. That jerks him off the chair in surprise.

“Yeah, fuck,” he groans. His fingers tighten in Hunter’s hair. He’s pumping his cock in Hunter’s hand. “Gimme that mouth again.” He grips both sides of Hunter’s head. As soon as his cock is between Hunter’s lips, he thrusts in hard, looking for the back of his throat.

Hunter struggles for a moment. It’s what the man wants, control, power, Hunter’s distress. Hunter gives it to him, feigns difficulty as he relaxes and takes him all the way down. The man sits up, fucks Hunter’s face hard. Now Hunter can’t quite control his gag, drool escaping his lips.

The man watches, panting. Their eyes meet and Hunter focuses on surrender. Shifting, the john braces a hand on the console so he can stand and lean forward, his cock continuing to ravage Hunter’s mouth, his balls slapping Hunter’s chin. He holds Hunter down, nose buried in musky pubic hair, savoring it when Hunter twists in protest as his lungs burn.

“Take it…take it,” he hisses. Hunter can’t help the moisture welling up in his eyes as his throat is filled again and again. He has to gasp in as much air as possible in the brief moments when the man withdraws enough to let him breathe.

He’s pulling Hunter’s hair hard, keeping a tight grip. He cries out. “Fuck, I’m gonna…come…gonna come.” Hunter steadies himself, ready to swallow, but the man pulls out instead.

“Pump my cock,” he orders. “‘nd keep your mouth open, slut.” He cuffs Hunter’s face for emphasis.

Hunter opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue. His hands wrap around the cock well-lubricated by his saliva, and it takes only a few strokes before the man cries out and spurts into Hunter’s mouth and onto his nose and cheeks. It drips onto his bare chest. He grabs the back of Hunter’s head, then shoves his spasming cock back between his lips as Hunter hastily lets go.

“Suck it clean.”

Hunter does, tightening cheeks, swirling his tongue, the sour/salty taste and smell filling his senses.

“Good boy,” whispers the john. He pulls out a final time and collapses back into the chair. Hunter starts to move. “No, stay there.” He reaches out and smears his cum all over Hunter’s face, then shoves his fingers between Hunter’s swollen lips. “Good boy.”

Hunter, hair loose, muscles enhanced with a sweaty glow, perfectly subservient, obediently stays on his knees, exactly what the man wants to see. Hunter can feel his eyes surveying him, only now really looking for the first time. A booted foot slides between Hunter’s parted legs, and he chuckles when Hunter can’t stifle a moan as his shin comes in contact with Hunter’s unsatisfied erection.

“Jerk your cock.” Hunter doesn’t hesitate, undoing his pants and groaning into the relief of his fist. He can feel intent eyes on him.

“My cock in your mouth got you so hard,” the man whispers. “I like that. Like a good slut that can’t get enough.” He leans forward, wraps his hand around the tip of Hunter’s cock, letting him thrust against foreign skin. “Come for me, slut. That’s it. Good slut.” Hunter cries out, his orgasm pulsing into the man’s palm.

For a few moments, he’s allowed to stay still, eyes closed, holding on to fleeting ecstasy, and then he hears, “Clean up your mess.” He looks up at amused eyes before bending his head to lick his cum out of the john’s hand.

“Where did she find you?” the man sighs as Hunter cleans him, voice almost dreamy as he watches the show Hunter continues to provide. Hunter assumes the question is, as Tech would say, rhetorical. The john doesn’t care where he came from, just that he was willing and available. They stay in silence for a while until he says, “Finish up here,” and motions to his crotch.

Carefully, Hunter tucks the flaccid cock back into his pants and does up the fastening. “You can go.” He doesn’t offer Hunter anything to clean up with.

As soon as he hits the gangway, Hunter pulls a rag from his pocket and wipes himself off before putting on his shirt. He’s halfway to the flop they sleep in when he gets a message on his com. Chiyn.

“Apparently, you were very impressive. He’s already scheduled you for the next time he’s on planet. Blocked a whole evening. I’m sending you a little extra for a job well done.” The credits ping in his account. Hunter can’t help a smile.

Mission accomplished.

After using the sonic, he finds Wrecker. It doesn’t take long before Hunter is back on his knees purging the taste of the other man from his mouth.

Chapter Text

Tech knows, Hunter is almost sure.

Tech doesn’t do anything but ask if the new revenue stream is stable and then gives them all a small handheld device that performs a number of functions including scanning for ‘medical abnormalities’, which Hunter takes to mean diseases. When Hunter confirms that the flow of credits seems reliable, Tech moves them from the flop to an apartment.

No one else seems interested in how their change of circumstances is funded. The others don’t question the time Hunter spends on ‘special missions’, taking for granted that their sergeant has enhanced skills that command high payment. They’re not wrong.

Hunter likes the new place. It’s not fancy, but they all have their own room. Omega and Tech sleep on one floor that also has the kitchen and living room; he, Wrecker, and Crosshair share the other.

*

Hunter wakes sooner than he’d like to find Crosshair in his bed, hand cupped over Hunter’s crotch. He had a long night and, even with the bacta, his ass is sore–not that his ass is what Crosshair is looking for.

“Cross, ‘m tired. Go bother Tech or Wrecker.” Fortunately for Crosshair, Hunter’s cock hadn’t gotten that memo, responding quickly to skilled fingers waking it up.

“Wrecker’s cooking with Omega and Tech kicked me out. Get on your back. I’ll do the work.”

“Liar,” Hunter grunts, but does as he’s told. It feels good to have someone familiar on him and around him. He watches his erection disappear into Cross’s prepped hole, watches the concentration and the abandon on Crosshair’s face as he starts fucking himself in earnest on Hunter. Soon fully awake, Hunter is wrapping his fist around Crosshair’s cock, thrusting his hips up as Crosshair slams down, and it’s all too good.

Hunter’s blood heats. He thinks of himself bent over in the alley, his ass pummeled by the faceless man. He imagines all his special clients lined up to have a turn.

“Get off,” he pushes Crosshair onto the bed, then rises to flip the other man on his belly before pulling him up to slam into Crosshair from behind. “Fuck!” Hunter groans, his cries of pleasure matched by Crosshair under him. He reaches around and starts jacking Crosshair’s cock. He tries to angle himself into his prostate, but it doesn’t matter. Crosshair’s moans get louder, and then he comes in Hunter’s hand.

Crosshair collapses, and Hunter pins him to the bed, hips still thrusting into clenched heat.

“Hunter.” There’s almost a whimper in Crosshair’s voice. His cock is pressed to the mattress as Hunter’s pounding keeps the friction constant on Crosshair’s waning but overstimulated erection

Hunter grabs Crosshair’s hands, holds them hard above his head. “Be a good boy, and take it,” he growls. His hips piston, the sound of his pelvis slapping against Crosshair’s thin ass fills the room. When he comes, he has to muffle his howl in Crosshair’s shoulder.

“You okay?” he whispers, releasing Crosshair’s wrists and slowly sliding out of him.

“Yeah, haven’t…haven’t fucked like that since…” Since Kamino. Since the war. He looks at Crosshair splayed out on his stomach, sees the shiny trail of cum left by his cock on an ass cheek.

“Gonna hit the ‘fresher…unless you want to…” Hunter gives a little smile.

Crosshair scoffs. He’d rather die than admit he wants to cuddle.

“Change the sheets,” Hunter calls behind him.

“Not kriffing likely,” Crosshair answers.

*

“Spirat would like to see you again,” Chiyn says. She smiles, “He’s paying extra for some special requests.”

“Oh?” He likes Spirat. Their nights together, and it’s always a full night, are spent fucking and sleeping. Nothing too fancy or rough.

“I assume you won’t have a problem getting hard for a woman?”

“Should be fine.” He’s pretty sure, at least. In comparison to his time with men, he hasn’t been with many women. He’s been surrounded by men his whole life. He knows what to do with men. They didn’t encounter humanoid females until they were deployed, and it wasn’t until one surprised him in his tent with a blowjob and a quick ride that Tech gave them a crash course in male/female sex education.

“Are you comfortable with light bondage? Restraints? Perhaps a collar and leash?”

“Doing it or, uh, wearing it?” ‘Doing it’ was more of a Tech thing.

“Mmmm,” Chiyn looks at the datapad. “Wearing.”

“‘S fine.”

“Excellent.” She slides a key card across her desk. “Credits will deposit upon entrance per usual. Don’t be late.”

*

“Oh he is pretty,” the woman purrs. Hunter doesn’t think she’s fully human. Her skin shimmers strangely in the light. “What do you call yourself?”

“Fox,” Hunter answers.

“Hmmmm. I’m Ereh. Spirat speaks very highly of your…talents. And you don’t mind wearing this?” She holds a collar and leash in her hand.

“‘S fine. Different from what we usually do.” He glances at the other man, who is standing quietly at the corner of the bed.

“Oh,” she smiles. “I know. But Spir has some needs that haven’t been met. And we’re going to remedy that tonight. Now, let’s see what I’m working with. Strip.”

Hunter undresses. He does it slowly, making a show for them both. He feels nervous though he’s not sure why.

“Ah, I see why Spir likes you.” Her fingers trace the edge of his tattoo. People like that it runs down his whole body. “He likes a bad boy. Are you bad, Fox?”

“Can be,” he answers. Her fingertip stroke along his soft cock before she takes hold of it.

“Oh, I bet. Tonight, I’m going to want you to be a good boy, though. I think you’ll like that too. Kneel.”

He does, and she starts to put the leather collar around his neck. “Oh, safewords for all of us, just in case.” Hunter gives her his, and then the collar is buckled. “Very nice,” she admires, tugging slightly on the leash. “It suits you. Now stay.”

“Your turn, Spir. Come,” Areh says, and soon he is naked, collared, and on his knees next to Hunter.

*

Hunter is sure Tech’s lesson in sex education did not include what he is watching. Spir is still on his knees, his face buried between Areh’s legs as she lies at the edge of the bed. Hunter watches Spir’s mouth suck at lip-like skin before plunging into–

“Yeah, tongue fuck my pussy. Fuck. Yes.” His tongue delves into her multiple times before he focuses his attention on the swollen nub of flesh above her wet opening. “Yes…oh…yes.” Areh squirms in pleasure. She holds both their leashes, and she tugs on Hunter’s. “Your turn,” she orders, pushing Spirat away with her foot, though she keeps him close.

The smell of her arousal is intoxicating. Hunter’s never experienced anything like it. Every time he’s fucked a female, it’s been a quick, rushed tryst. No time to luxuriate. He’s used to the sour tang of cum, the heavy mustiness of male excitement. It’s never smelled like this, light, almost spicy. His cock, hard from watching Spirat, jumps at the idea of tasting Areh.

Hunter tries not to be nervous. He’s seen what she enjoys already. He thinks of what else he’s learned. He runs the back of his fingers along her inner thigh, watching her face soften in enjoyment, and then he follows that trail with his lips.

“Mmmm, a romantic. Watch closely, Spir, I think Fox is going to show you how it’s done.”

For the most part, he replicates what he’d seen Spirat do, but he has a vague recollection of Tech mentioning a particularly pleasurable internal point that could be stimulated like a prostate. His fingers ghost over her pulsing opening, his tongue probing into her. She tastes better than he could have imagined, tingling his senses, making him want more. He’s almost sad to stop, but he does to suck and lick at her clit, and then he slides two fingers inside and curls them up.

She moans, writhing, her thighs pressing around his head. He moves slowly, fascinated by the way she feels tight even around his fingers, and watches and listens as she moans at his touch. And then her hand is gripping hard into his hair.

“Don’t stop. Just…just like that,” she gasps. He sucks and licks, his fingers stroking, and she cries out, “Fuckfuckfuck…yes.” Somehow she tightens even more around him as her back arches. He doesn’t stop until she tells him. He thinks her skin is glowing brighter.

“Oh, you are skilled,” she smiles when she’s recovered enough to talk. “Spir says it doesn’t take long for you to get hard after you come. That true?”

All their refractory periods are excellent, Tech has said.

“Should be,” he answers, her taste still in his mouth.

“Good, because if that thick cock is nice and ready, I’m going to need it to fuck me.”

Hunter doesn’t need instructions for this. He knows how to fuck. His unanticipated problem is how good it feels. She feels so different around his cock, unlike a hand or mouth or ass. She’s hot and wet, organic in a different way. Before he realizes it, he’s partly kneeling on the bed, sliding out and slamming back in, trying to find the perfect angle for his pleasure. She’s moaning under him, her fingers clawing hard along his muscular chest, digging into his arms as they cage her in.

“Harder.” She pulls his hair. “Fuck me harder.” He does. He pistons into her, looking down to watch his cock disappear into her, watching his cock glisten. It’s too much suddenly.

“Gonna…gonna…” She pulls hard on the leash.

“Gonna come in my cunt? Gonna fill me? Show Spir how a real man does it.”

He gasps and cries out as he comes, slamming hard into her, chasing his climax to the end. He’s breathing heavily when he looks at her. She has a little smirk on her lips, and she pulls his leash so they can kiss, the first time tonight.

“Very good. Lie here–” she pats the bed beside her. It’s a little awkward at the edge, but Hunter makes do. “Spir?” The other man has been watching closely. He moves forward eagerly, his cock glistening with precum. “Eat my pussy.” He hesitates and she jerks the leash hard. “Do a good job, and you’ll get your reward.”

Hunter watches as Spir’s lips and cheeks and chin are quickly covered with a mix of Areh’s excitement and his cum. Areh’s hand drifts between Hunter’s legs, and she starts stroking him. It’s too soon, even for him. She turns her head to kiss him, then guides his hand over her breast. Then his mouth is sucking and teasing at her nipples while she uses Spirat to have another orgasm.

*

“Is this how you usually do it?”

Hunter is on his hands and knees, Spirat standing behind him, slamming his cock into Hunter. He doesn’t answer that it’s not, that usually they fuck face to face on a bed, Spirat folding him in half, Hunter’s thighs pressed to his chest, and they share an intimacy that feels almost real.

“Harder,” he hears her say to the other man. “Look at how strong he is, how resilient. Your cock isn’t going to hurt him. He can take whatever you give him.” The other man grunts, picks up his pace.

There’s a mirror in front of him so Hunter can watch Spirat’s intent face, watch his focus as he tries to do what he’s told. Areh circles them like prey, her hand stroking over their sweaty bodies.

Her hand slaps hard on Spriat’s ass. “Now, can you fuck him while you spread yourself open for me?” Spirat’s rhythm slows, loses integrity, but he leans forward more, pushing deeper. Hunter watches the other man reach behind himself. “That’s it. That’s it. You keep fucking Fox while I stretch out this tight hole.” He watches Spirat’s face as the other man whimpers and Hunter imagines Areh’s fingers sliding in, spreading, pushing against stinging, resistant muscles.

Soon, though, Spirat is moaning. “Good boy,” Areh murmurs. “You like that, don’t you? Doesn’t seem fair that you have this–” A choked cry is wrested from Spirat’s throat, and he comes hard in Hunter. Areh laughs. “See…not fair at all. Fox, you know no one has ever fucked this pretty specimen? Tonight you’re going to do it.”

Hunter would be lying if there isn’t something particularly exciting about being buried in untouched ass, knowing that his cock is the first to breach this tight hole. Spirat is bent over a footstool, with Hunter standing behind him.

“Don’t hold back,” says Areh. “I want you to fuck him senseless. I want him to know what it’s like to have a thick long cock slamming into him. I want him to feel every inch of your dick. Can you do that? Can you fuck that virgin ass until he can’t sit tomorrow?”

Hunter was trying to be careful, but Areh’s words spurred him on. She was the person in charge here. They were both there to do what she wanted, and she wanted Hunter to grab hard onto these slim hips and pound deep into the body bent over in front of him.

He thinks of Crosshar, whose body is similar, lanky and muscular.

“That’s it,” Areh purrs. “Force him to open for you. Show him how it’s done.” She pulls Spirat’s leash so his head rises and his back arches. “Spir, next time I’m taking a vid so you can see how good this looks.”

Spirat’s eyes are half-lidded as Hunter takes his time. He looks down at his cock sliding in and out of Spirat’s tight ass, lube glistening at the rim of flesh that clings to his cock as it pulls out, disappearing as Hunter pounds his way back in.

“You’d look so good with a cock in your mouth,” Areh whispers to Spirat. “Maybe Fox has a friend he can bring next time? They can take turns on you. Or…maybe I tie you up and make you watch while they fuck me? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She tugs his leash.

“Yes…oh, yes,” the other man chokes out.

That mental image is almost too much for Hunter. “Gonna…not gonna be able…”

Areh looks at him. “Make it good,” she smiles, leaning over to kiss Spirat on the forehead, before backing up to watch.

Hunter slows his strokes, getting control of himself. Spirat is covered in sweat, muscles trembling, and Hunter can see the look of ecstasy on his face. Hunter leans forward, takes hold of the other man’s collar, pulling him up and off the footstool.

“Get down,” Hunter growls. “Chest on the floor.” Spirat looks too good like this, an offering for Hunter’s pleasure. Hunter pounds into him, changing his angle with each thrust, until Spirat is crying out at Hunter’s cock slamming into his prostate. He rams in again and again. The noise Spirat makes when he comes pulls Hunter over the edge with him. Areh is there, stroking Spirat’s cock, pumping his cum onto the floor.

“Good boy,” she praises. “Good boy. I told you you’d like this.”

Hunter slows his pace but doesn’t stop, enjoying the tightness of the other man’s body as the waves of his climax ripple through him. He can’t believe he hesitated when Chiya offered him this work.

It’s barely effort, he thinks, as they crowd into the shower together. He gets paid to fuck and be fucked. He was letting strangers in bars pound his ass for free. He was sucking a different cock practically every night he could after they deployed then going back to his squad for another fucking.

He’s good at it and it is easy. There’s no need for any of them to be dodging blaster fire or getting into knife fights while stealing some stupid thing for one of Cid’s clients. No one needs to put their body on the line, except him.

He watches them fuck while Areh moans out filth, her plans for the future, how she wants Hunter to fuck her lover while Spirat fucks her. She lies between them, stroking their spent cocks, detailing what she’d do if Hunter brought friends next time. He’ll have to ask Chiya about it, if it’s allowed and who she’d recommend from her other employees.

He falls asleep in a tangle of limbs and wakes undisturbed but alone. He lies in the bed, thinking about Areh’s fantasies, envisioning Tech or Wrecker helping him take turns on Spirat or any of his other johns. He puts the thought out of his head, excited as it makes him.

This isn’t for them. This is something he does for all their benefit. He stretches, satisfied, then gets up and heads home.

Chapter Text

Chiya looks at him over her neatly arranged desk. Her little office is modestly appointed and clean but smells rich. Hunter likes it. It makes him feel relaxed. They meet once a week to go over his appointments. She says she likes to keep a close relationship with the people she employs. It’s been less than two months, but he feels like he’s found a nice rhythm with this work.

“I have a client who is interested in you–they are always interested in my new employees–but their…activities are…specialized.”

“Yeah, like what?” Hunter imagines an alien with tentacles or a Hutt with whatever they have.

“It is complicated, but the biggest aspect is that there will be multiple species…multiple participants…simultaneously.”

Hunter shifts slightly as his pants tighten. “How many?” He has had more than one partner in a night, four at one time to be exact.

“In this case, not more than twelve and, as I said, they will not necessarily all be humanoid.”

He tries not to act surprised, to keep his face neutral. He’s watched scenes like this, but in holoporn, never in real life. He’s got a good thing going with Chiya, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize that. He’s constantly reminded that this is easier and significantly less dangerous than going on missions that use his military training.

Hunter shrugs, trying to act unbothered. “Not a problem.”

She looks at him, studying the face he shows her. “There will be restraints.” He again shrugs indifference. “And impact, but…only with implements that do not leave lasting damage. You will not gain more scars from the session, but there is…an element of pain.”

“Could be fine. What’s the pay?” He feels a slight waiver in his resolve. He knows he could handle it, but it seems too complicated, elaborate. He’s bringing in plenty with the few nights she sends him out during a week.

Chiya tips the screen of her datapad for Hunter to see. He almost chokes at the number of credits. It will cover two months of their expenses. “And…if you perform well, there is a possibility they will ask you to return. I realize it all may seem a bit…extreme, but this client and I have negotiated a number of safety checks into the evening. I do not want any of my employees injured. From the moment you enter the site for your session, you will have multiple opportunities to withdraw consent and leave. Of course, that will negate any payment, but, if you complete the evening and comply with the client’s instructions, you will earn this…significant amount of money. There is also a time limit for how long they can keep you. Three hours from the time you enter until you can leave.”

She pauses, looking into his eyes. “If you need a break after this particular assignment, I would not hold it against you, nor would I if you preferred to decline the offer.” She smiles. “The choice is entirely yours.”

*

Hunter tries not to be nervous when the alleyway door opens in front of him. He enters a small vestibule, and the door slides shut behind him.

A neutral voice says, “Welcome. Please proceed forward.” Another door opens to a slightly larger room. “Please undress and place your items in the drawer.” A drawer appears in the wall.

When Hunter is naked, a cubby opens. “Please remove the items from the cabinet.” It’s four individual magcuffs. “These cuffs are quick release, keyed to your safeword. Please activate and test them.” Hunter does. “In the event that you are unable to use your safeword, there is a button attached to the right cuff. Please locate and test it with the cuff on your wrist. One cuff only.” The button is in a small case, so it cannot be accidentally pressed when held in his palm. A quick flick of his thumb opens the case and he pushes the button. “If you are comfortable, please place the cuffs on your ankles and wrists.” He does.

Another drawer opens. “Please take the blindfold from the drawer and place it over your eyes. At no point after you leave this room are you allowed to remove the blindfold, even with the use of your safeword. The blindfold will automatically release at the end of the session. If you consent, please stand in the illuminated doorway.” Hunter moves to the new door and presses the heavy fabric of the blindfold over his eyes. It makes a small noise and little points of suction attach it to his face.

He hears the door slide open.

“Excellent,” the neutral voice says. “Please step forward.” Hunter does. The air in the room is cool. A cold hand takes his arm and leads him. He tries to get a sense of the space, listening, smelling. There are other people there, but he can’t tell how many. The hand stops him. “Please secure the safety button and raise your hands above your head. The cuffs will be activated when you do.”

His head buzzes slightly when the cuffs on his wrists and ankles turn on and attach to something. Slowly his arms are raised and his legs are spread.

“We will begin with impact.”

Hunter’s whole body jerks when the electro-whip is activated. He can hear it, and it fully occupies his senses before he feels it make impact on his skin. If they are starting like this, they want to soften him up, he thinks. He can do that. He can bear the searing heat of the focused electricity and then show it weakening him. He endured worse when he was a cadet.

He lets his mind wander as if he’s watching this happen to someone else. He imagines what he looks like, stretched out, naked, seeming vulnerable, someone standing behind him and wielding the whip. The person is skilled, not their first time. The targets are his back and ass and thighs.

Minutes flow together, and he realizes he’s panting. Sweat is dripping down his face; he can feel it clinging to his hair. The whip travels up and down his backside, overlapping layer upon layer of dull pain until a hit lands on his buttocks and thighs that is unexpectedly sharp and he cries out. His body jerks with the next hard hit, and then he’s groaning in time with the blows.

The whip stops and a warm hand is touching his chest, drifting down, a finger collecting his sweat, tracing his tattoo before his cock is enveloped in warmth. He moans then chokes it back as the whip hits him again. The hands work together, melding the pain and pleasure in his already fuzzy mind.

“Very nice,” says the voice, and both stimulations stop. Hunter can’t keep himself from drawing in deep ragged breaths. But this is what they want, he thinks.

The soft neutral voice is at his ear. “May we continue?” The choice feels false, though he’s been told it is not. He doesn’t want the choice. He just wants them to do what they are going to do.

A finger flicks his cock. He flinches, though it didn’t hurt. He flinches because he wasn’t expecting it to be so easy to make him hard.

“Get on with it,” he grits out.

A soft chuckle, then, “Good boy,” the voice answers as something solid smacks hard against Hunter’s ass.

Still in the cuffs, his arms and legs are released from whatever was spreading him. Rough hands catch him, and he’s wrangled forward and bent over something padded. His chest rests on it while his legs are spread again, toes on the floor, and his arms pulled behind him and secured. He can’t help but try to move, to feel how much slack he’s allowed. His muscles flex when something pushes him down, pressing the cuffs into his back. He struggles against the pressure. He tells himself he’s putting on a show, denying that it is instinct that keeps him fighting his rough treatment.

He tenses as silence falls, as the only sound is of his deep breaths. The pressure on his back keeps him pinned. He quivers, the anticipation like readying to engage with an enemy; it tingles over his body, a pleasurable sensation, because this is just like the excitement that used to fill him before he’d enter a battle. He wants what is coming next, even though he is not entirely sure what will happen.

He flinches when unexpected hands pry his ass cheeks apart, cold lube poured over his already prepared hole, and without further warning a large cock plunges into him. He grunts, trying not to react, has barely time to process this invasion when a hand grips his hair and his head is wrenched up. Someone slaps his face.

“Open.” This voice is harsh. He does. Something thick, hard, and scaly pushes into his mouth and to the back of his throat. He twists, unable to breath, trying to fight, trying not to fight, trying not to surrender, to be what they want, whatever that is. He can handle this, he tells himself. It’s not the first time he’s been spitted between two people.

“Take it, human,” the raspy voice says. “Do not break too soon. I wish to go in full tonight.”

The cocks slam into him, forcing him open, forcing him. He writhes in the constraints. There’s a pause as the erection in his mouth withdraws. He can feel fingers digging into his hips and arms as he’s pounded into and then left empty. He can hear the shuffle as someone else takes position behind him.

The tip of the next cock feels strange, blunt. It presses into him, inexorably, but his body won’t yield. Hunter tries to relax as the pressure builds. He groans as strange thrills of pleasure skitter through him. The person behind him moves in rough pulses at his sensitive entrance, trying to force past his resistant ring of muscles.

He hears a noise of frustration then feels sharp points of pain dig into his side as he’s grabbed and pulled back onto the cock and finally broken open. Hunter lets out a ragged gasp, his hands closing into fists, the button solid in his palm, trying to master himself. This thing doesn’t belong in him: it’s foreign, strange, alien. It ripples inside him as if textured, as if changing shape, spreading him further around it. It pulls out and then drives its way back in over and over, punching little cries from his throat.

He’s sweating again. The moisture dripping along his cheek. This is just three so far, he thinks. He tries to focus and listen to the breathing in the room, the rustling he assumes are the others pumping their erections. It takes him a moment to realize he’s empty. He’s being given a small respite. The next cock inside his ass feels normal. He can almost relax until a claw hooks in past his lips, behind his teeth, pulls his mouth open, and his throat is being fucked again. He wishes he knew how many there are, that he knew how much time has passed.

The invasions withdraw just to be replaced by others. Who else is here? The thought keeps coming to the forefront of his mind. He feels skin behind him, then cold scales, fur, rough textures. He can’t concentrate enough to count, to match bodies behind him to the cocks burning his throat. They must be taking multiple turns using him, filling him. They jeer, thinking this is something he doesn’t want, that they are forcing him to do this, but as he feels his cock sway heavily between his legs, he knows. He chose this.

A cock plows into his prostate and the pleasure is strange, choked. He wants this. It hurts and he needs it to; it makes him hard, and he needs that also.

He tries to focus on the cocks forced into his drooling mouth. At first, he could register their differences, length, girth, texture, but then they blur together into strangeness. He’d been told there would be more than humans here. He still startles when he feels claws touch his skin, when he feels fur against his clenched ass, when cold hardness invades him, no different from one of the lifeless dildos that he’s ridden.

His throat is sore as rough hands hold his head up so that his mouth can be plundered over and over. They don’t bother trying to keep a tandem rhythm, each male thrusts into him, uses him for a few minutes and pulls out. A smell starts to fill the room, sweat mixed with musk. He tastes it on his tongue, realizing he’s tasting himself and the lube. He gags, remembering he agreed to this, cleaned and prepared himself to their specifications knowing this would happen.

Suddenly he’s empty. He can hear the heavy breathing layered with his own. He’s lifted, arms released, flipped over on the platform, spread apart. The electro whip sizzles the air and he cries out as it tortures his hot chest. It crackles and lays burning sensations along his torso, stinging his nipples, tormenting his untouched erection. He shouts, overwhelmed, “Nonononono!”, bucking in his bonds but does not use the word he’s told will stop all this.

There’s a pause that is palpable. Gentle hands smooth the hair off his forehead.

“Very good,” the neutral voice soothes. “You’ve held out so long, and this is what they want to see. Give it to them.”

His legs are hoisted in the air and bent back toward his chest, and another cock plows into him. It feels so big, stretching him mercilessly. He struggles and hears laughter. His nipples are pinched painfully, and then his erection is enveloped in hard warmth and someone begins stroking it. It’s too much, already overwhelming, when he feels something hot nudge at his lips and he opens his mouth to another assault.

From this angle, his head tipped back, they can drive deeper into him, their balls slapping into his face, all his senses overloaded. Hands rest on his vulnerable neck. Again and again, these unnumbered men ravage his body. The air is humid with their breath. He feels like he’s losing himself. His cock is touched and flicked, stroked and squeezed, but they always stop when he nears a climax. This is sweet torture.

Cold unyielding fingers dig into his thighs, and a choked cry of pain escapes around what is buried in his mouth. A cock slams into his ass, each thrust stinging his sensitive rim. Hips hammer against his bruised buttocks, then he feels a flood of hot release inside him. A few moments later, the strange blunt cock in his mouth forces its way deeper and he can feel cum that he can’t taste pump into his throat. The shaft ripples under his lips.

It pulls out, still spurting cum that, mixed with saliva, drips onto his face and mats in his hair. Another pushes into his mouth. It releases onto his tongue and then gets jacked off to splatter on his lips and cheeks.

His ass isn’t fairing much better. He can feel lube and cum dripping down his cleft and spine. The room is louder now as filthy words are hurled at him, only sometimes in Basic, but he understands their intent as there’s no pause in the onslaught as he’s used repeatedly as a repository for the end of their pleasure. They are rougher now as they finish in him, their last violent thrusts pound the air out of him.

Sharp claws suddenly rake his thigh and he flinches hard, earning himself a slap across the face. His nipples are captured in hard pinpoints of pressure and he cannot escape that focused pain. His struggles only make the pull at his flesh worse. He gasps in relief when he’s released.

His knees are pushed closer to his chest, and somehow he feels more exposed as hot breath teases over his twitching, abused hole. There’s laughter again and then a thick cock drives into him, and a hot body covered in fur bends over and prickles his skin. He hears panting as hips piston and feels something strange pressing to his tortured entrance. Over and over again, as the cock hammers into him, something at its base tries to stretch his rim beyond what he can take. And then Hunter’s confused mind realizes what it is: a knot. He knows some species have them, though he’s never seen one, just heard Tech mention it in passing interest.

But this knowledge does nothing to help him. The thrusts are relentless and inescapable and Hunter is biting back his need to beg them to stop. He can’t take anymore, doesn’t want this; it hurts too much. He’s not in the Army anymore; he doesn’t need to endure this torture.

With what sounds like a howl, his ass is finally forced wide enough around the knot, and it is inside. Pain sears through him. He wonders if something tore, if he’s bleeding. They said no damage, but the pain drags through him with every brutal thrust. He’s biting back cries, at least thinks he is. He can’t hear himself over the blood rushing in his ears.

He repeats to himself that he’s doing this for them. Like a mantra it rolls through his mind, and then it fades away as the pounding rhythm reminds him that he wanted this, that no one is forcing his compliance. He’s not in the Army; he follows only the orders he wants to follow. He had a choice, and knowing–hoping he knew–what this night would be, he had said yes.

“Very good,” the voice whispers to him. “You look beautiful in pain, but you’ve earned a reward.” A soft hand closes around his swollen cock. “That feels good, doesn’t it? And his knot inside you? Doesn’t that feel good too?”

Hunter’s mind is confused, as all he can feel is pain, but when he focuses, when he takes a survey of his body, he can feel the cock thrusting inside him, and he can feel the knot pounding into his prostate.

“There,” the voice murmurs. “You’re going to come, aren’t you? You deserve it.” He’s stroked faster, in tandem with the rhythm set by the knotted cock. “Good boy,” it whispers. “You’ve fantasized about this before, haven’t you? That’s why you wanted us to use you. That’s why you came here. You knew what would happen, didn’t you? What do you want now…right now?” Both stimulations slow, waiting for Hunter’s response. He can’t think. He just wants this to end or to start again. He wants to come, he wants the pleasure and he wants–

“Harder,” he says, choking on the word. But that’s what he wants. He wants this never to stop. He wants to come again and again as a cock forces his ass open, as he is ravaged and filled and stretched and hurt and—

Furred hips slam into bruised flesh. The hand on his cock has stopped moving entirely and he tries to fuck himself into the stilled fist.

“Yes!” he cries out. “Yes!”

They’ve never done this to him; they’re too gentle and caring.

The knot plows into his prostate and he comes. He comes and comes and comes, the build up exploding as he covers his chest in sticky fluid that is immediately scooped up and shoved in his mouth and spread over his face.

Clawed hands grip harder around his hips and thighs, hauling him up, all the better to pound a brutal orgasm into him. He can feel the cock, swelling, stretching his insides and then pumping out its load. He feels the heaviness as he’s filled with more cum than he thought possible.

“Very good,” whispers the voice. “Almost done.”

It takes many moments before these words register in Hunter’s addled brain. What more could happen? He doesn’t need to wonder long.

The body between his legs doesn’t stop moving but does so now with slow pivots, the knot swollen and rubbing against his prostate, almost gently if he weren’t so tender.

A rough hand is in his hair. “Open,” he’s ordered again and he does, though his aching jaw protests. If he could manage the strength to count, he’d know how many there were as they each take a turn shoving their flaccid cocks into his mouth and wait for him to suck them clean.

Something soft and hot and wet engulfs his cock, it flows over him in pleasurable waves, and he can’t contain his muffled moans as he hardens inside these sensations. The knot keeps its pressure on his prostate as its owner tries to tug it loose.

He can’t think as his cock is stroked in that perfect mixture of stimulation, and he comes again when, with a rough jerk, the knot pulls out of him, pushing hard into that bundle of nerves one last time.

He feels a gush of wet when the cum spills from his ass, feels himself handled again, flipped onto his chest, limbs secured, his hips high enough that nothing drips out. He wonders if the cum is seeping deeper into him, if he’s going to be expelling it for days.

Gently fingers stroke through his matted hair.

“You were perfect. The cuffs will release in 20 minutes. Remember if you release them before that time, your payment will be severely reduced. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Hunter manages to whisper.

“And you may remain here until morning.” That’s the last thing he hears before he falls into unconsciousness.

*

He wakes just as the restraints click off. The blindfold falls from his eyes and he confirms that he is alone. It takes him a few minutes to stretch and flex his arms, the feeling returning as painful tingles. He slides off the platform onto his haunches and viscous fluid drips out of him, pooling on the floor. He tries to rub feeling back into his legs but gives up and drags himself into the bathroom.

There’s a big tub but he pulls himself to the shower. He manages to reach up and turn on the water, letting it loosen and wash away what’s dried on his skin. He stretches more, feeling a little better under the heat. Still sitting on the floor, he soaps up his hands, rubbing it into his hair and scrubbing his face. He washes his body, then carefully begins cleaning between his legs. Everything aches and stings. His soapy fingers tentatively rub his sore, stretched rim.

He closes his eyes, leaning back as he massages that abused entrance. His other hand gently spreads soap over his cock and balls. How many had there been? How many cocks had he taken? How many times had he been forced open?

His breath deepens as his soapy hand keeps working over his cock in smooth strokes. Slowly, he pushes a tentative finger into his ass. He’s so loose. He could take Wrecker right now without issue. He could take Tech and Crosshair at the same time. Another finger slides in then a third. He keeps them wide, spread, letting them slide in and out while he imagines himself being fucked. He can see himself bent over, he can see men lining up to have him.

Tonight, a few had been human, or close enough that he couldn’t tell the difference. And at least one Trandoshan. That cock felt like a dildo, cold and unyielding. The last one had to be a Shistavanen. He groans thinking about the thick knot forcing itself into him. His fingers curl, reaching for his prostate. He strokes himself faster. Maybe one was a young Wookie. His cock jumps at the thought of being bent in half while a Wookie drives itself into him. He moans and fucks his fingers harder against his tender prostate. On the back of his eyelids, he watches himself get ravaged, he sees himself surrender to cock after cock. He sees himself get used and mauled and forced…and he takes all of them.

Tech would have wanted to watch. If Tech was here, there would be no respite. The others would have finished with him and then Tech would make him ride Wrecker, other men’s cum dripping out of him, the only lube he’d need. Tech would have his little cane, slap it against Hunter’s nipples and erection until he was a mewling mess. And then Crosshair would be allowed to kneel and suck his overstimulated cock until he came. He’d scream for them. He’d fall apart for them.

He strokes himself faster. Maybe he could take them all at once. He can see them surrounding him, two in his ass and another in his mouth. First he pictures strangers then it’s them. His squad, his family. He keeps fucking his ass, tries to push another finger in, but it’s too much and when he comes, it hurts and he moans in pleasure. His bruised ass clenches and only a dribble of cum escapes his red cock.

He falls asleep again, water pouring over him. When he wakes, his skin has pruned. He manages to stand and clean himself properly. On the counter, there is water and pressed bars of food. There’s also a squeeze bottle of bacta and a butt plug. He drinks and eats before contemplating the other two items. Finally, he pumps the bacta directly into his hole, then shoves the plug in. He bites his lip at the mixed sensation when the widest part catches at the stinging edges of his rim.

He sleeps for a few more hours on the untouched bed before carefully making his way back home.

Tech is waiting. Tech knows. He offers himself to Tech, moans as Tech gently pulls the plug out of his ravaged body. Tech takes him carefully, face to face, soft kisses Tech so rarely bestows. He manages to orgasm one more time before falling asleep filled with his lover’s cum.

Chapter Text

Hunter groans, his hips humping at nothing while he waits for the restraints to release.

He’s blindfolded, bent over, chest pressed to the padded platform that keeps his ass and mouth readily available. His feet are on the floor, ankles attached to a spreader bar, and his arms are magcuffed and stretched out in front of him. It’s his third time, and he’s already hoping to be requested again. Chiya told him that for his safety he’s only allowed to participate every four weeks, but he’s argued that he can handle it more often. The voice in his ear tells him he’s the most resilient human they have had. He wakes up at night hearing that voice praise how well he takes what they give him.

He’s getting hard now, regardless of how sore his ass and throat are. He’ll jack off in the shower, fucking himself with the plug they’ll have left him. He wonders if that’s why they keep him shackled, that they know how horny he is after he’s been fucked. He imagines someone watching him, naked, covered in cum, body squirming while his fully erect cock drips on the floor.

A noise suddenly catches his attention. It’s soft, like a dropped sandbag, but it's a completely foreign sound in this environment. His body tenses as he focuses on finding whatever made the noise, worried he will need to push the button to release himself early.

“What the fuck is this?” Crosshair. Hunter’s body somehow tenses more. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Who did this to you?” He’s nearer now, but Hunter can’t see him, just senses his sudden closeness and the movement that is his hand reaching for the magcuffs. “Got to get you out of—“

“Crosshair, no!” Even in his particular predicament, Hunter manages enough command in his voice that Crosshair stops. “Don’t touch those.”

“What? Why? Are they—“ He can hear the concern in Crosshair’s voice.

Hunter draws in a big breath. “Because I won’t get paid if you do.”

Crosshair’s soft exhalation followed by a long silence contains multitudes.

Hunter can feel Crosshair’s eyes on him, piecing together information he’s had and what he’s seeing in front of him.

“This is…your special assignment? This is where the extra credits come from?” Hunter doesn’t need to see him to picture the scowl on his face. “Does Tech know?”

“Maybe.” Hunter is sure he knows, though he’s never actually said the words to Tech.

“You didn’t tell him? Didn’t think you needed to talk to any of us before you decided to get fucked for money?”

“I do some fucking too.” He tries to joke, flinching when Crosshair smacks his reddened ass.

There’s a long pause before Crosshair finally says, “Not tonight.” Crosshair’s fingers ghost along his torso. “You don’t usually play this rough. Must have been a big guy.” Hunter feels relief that Cross’s voice has lost some of its edge.

“Probably.” He tries to shrug, needs to be nonchalant about being found like this.

There’s another pause in Crosshair’s movement, and Hunter realizes he’s being inspected. Crosshair is going to notice the different sized bruises, the other evidence that—

“It wasn’t just one, was it?” Crosshair presses into a soft spot where fingers left marks. “How many, Hunter?” His voice is suddenly clipped and cold. Hunter doesn’t answer. “Tell me how many cocks you took tonight.” Crosshair doesn’t shout. His words are laden enough with anger and disbelief that he doesn’t need to raise his voice.

“Don’t know. I was blindfolded.”

Crosshair’s snort is heavy with disappointment.

“We aren’t enough? Not getting off with us? You needed to get tied up and gangbanged. Didn’t want Tech to arrange it?” Crosshair’s voice drips with disdain.

“Cross, it’s a lot of money. I know how to fight and how to fuck, and fucking is easier. No one has to put themselves on the line except me.”

“How long you been doing this?”

“Couple months.”

“How many have you fucked?”

“Not answering that. Not your business.” He needs these cuffs to release. He needs to be having this conversation clean and face to face, not masked and covered in cum.

He practically bucks himself off the platform in surprise when Crosshair’s fingers trail up his hanging balls, running through thick and drying cum. He tries to squirm out of Crosshair’s touch, but he’s still restrained.

“You like it, don’t you?” Fingers stroke over his taint and then tease at his swollen gaping entrance. “You’re leaking.” Crosshair’s voice is ice, unfamiliar, sending shivers of nervous adrenaline through Hunter. “You always have to be special. Have to be the sergeant, have to be the one people want, have to do this for the squad, have to take all these cocks to put food on the table. Isn’t that right, Hunter?”

“Crosshair, what are you—“ And then he gasps as a hand wraps around his erection that hasn’t fully waned. “Don’t—“

“Do I have to pay first? How many credits is it to stick my dick into this fucked out hole?” As much as Hunter tries to fight it, he’s getting hard again in Crosshair’s grasp. “Do I get a discount if I can make you come first?”

“Crosshair, just…just wait. The cuffs will release in a minute.”

Crosshair laughs, twists his wrist, and Hunter moans.

“Always were a slut.” Crosshair’s voice is in his ear. “Remember when we were cadets and you gave me shit when I fucked out of the squad a few times? But as soon as we deployed, you had everyone hanging off your dick.”

Suddenly the shackles click and open. Hunter tries to stand, but Crosshair is behind him. Strong hands push Hunter hard down on the platform and his body is pinned against Crosshair’s chest.

“Don’t you fucking move,” Crosshair hisses and Hunter goes slack.

“Crosshair, lemme…lemme get cleaned up. Then…then we can talk.” But Crosshair is rutting his hips against Hunter, his hand is back to stroking Hunter’s cock.

“You want me to stop? Tell me to stop.” Teeth bite at Hunter’s shoulder. “They just keep taking turns on you? Fuck your ass and fuck your mouth? That’s what happens?” Fingers dig into his buttocks, pinching and squeezing. He can feel Crosshair’s growing hardness pressing against him.

“Yeah.” Hunter is ashamed at how much of the word was a moan.

“I want my turn.”

Hunter almost comes at those words, Crosshair’s voice slithering into his mind, controlled but lustful. He feels Crosshair undo his pants, feels bare skin on his own.

He cries out when fingers push into him. “Will you even feel my cock fuck you? You’re so loose. Just like a whore.”

Crosshair slams into him, gripping in his hair to pull his head up and his body back. Hunter holds onto the sides of the platform, moaning with each thrust. Crosshair tops rarely, so rarely Hunter can’t remember the last time he did. But he clearly hasn’t forgotten how.

Hunter cries out when Crosshair changes his angle and pounds into his already sore prostate.

“Good Hunter, good sergeant. Take it. Take it for the squad.” Crosshair keeps his filthy monologue going. “You jack your cock thinking about this, don’t you? Getting paid to get your ass slammed? Don’t get enough from Wrecker and Tech? Gotta offer it for credits? Bet you suck cock too. Bet you love showing off and swallowing those dicks.”

Rough fabric irritates his back as Crosshair bends over him and starts stroking Hunter’s cock again. He’s sore everywhere, but it doesn’t matter.

He comes with a roar, clenching around Crosshair, pulling him into his own orgasm.

Crosshair lies on top of him, hand still wrapped around Hunter’s overstimulated erection. They both pant, trying to catch their breath.

Eventually, Crosshair helps Hunter to the ‘fresher and into the shower. He watches as Hunter cleans himself then pushes Hunter against the wall and finger fucks him to another almost painful climax before pumping Hunter’s ass full of bacta. He’s gentle as he slides the plug past Hunter’s swollen rim.

After Hunter has hydrated and eaten, they lie in the bed, side by side, Hunter on his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell…us?” Crosshair asks.

“I’m the only one who had to do this,” Hunter non-answers, then yelps when Crosshair’s hand slaps hard on an already bruised asscheek. “The kriff was that for?”

“You don’t have to do this, Hunter. You chose to do it.”

“Yeah, well, better to be taking dicks than blaster fire.”

Crosshair laughs. “‘m not arguing.” He lets out another chuckle. “Thought Cid was just paying more, that she finally appreciated us.”

“Not…entirely wrong.”

“So…how do I get started?”

“Not gonna happen,” Hunter answers, which earns him another hard slap on the ass.

“You just don’t want competition. I’m better at blowjobs than you. I’d be making more in no time….Fuck, and I bet there’s a market for someone as big as Wrecker. Yeah, you don’t want us taking your spotlight.”

Hunter ignores the bit of truth in Crosshair’s assessment. “Don’t think Tech would be interested?”

“Kriff. Hunter. You get Tech involved and who knows what would happen. We’d have a house with a whole dungeon. We’d have to send Omega to an academy. Or Tech’d teach her how to do the books.”

They both chuckle. Hunter gingerly rolls over and, unprotesting, Crosshair lets himself get pulled into an embrace.

“This was…nice,” Hunter whispers. “Not…not the first part, but…that was a good fuck.” His hand drifts down Crosshair’s chest.

“Yeah? Don’t get any ideas. And my ass is going to command top credits. Way too expensive for you.” Hunter reaches around, trying to get a hold of Crosshair’s skinny butt.

Crosshair’s breath catches. “‘m not prepped.”

“I can take care of that. How’d you find me?” He nuzzles Crosshair’s neck.

“You’ve been acting cagey. Followed you. Got worried when you didn’t come out. Had to see what was going on.” Hunter’s free hand wraps around Crosshair’s hardening cock. He’s sure there’s more to Crosshair’s story but it doesn’t matter.

“Mmmm, following your commander and interfering with a mission, huh? Sounds like you’re going to need to be reprimanded.” Crosshair moans. “There should be lube over on that table. Go get it.” He lets go of Crosshair, who whines. “You heard me, Trooper. That’s an order.”

Crosshair gives him a petulant look, then pokes Hunter’s bruised side.

“Sir, yes, sir,” he mutters, then does what he’s told.