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"I'm gonna rest for a minute."
Raiden watches the man sit down near the bottom of the metal staircase and light a cigarette.
"At a time like this?"
"You wanna go in on your own? Fine."
He scowls a bit, but concedes.
He's just met this "Pliskin" guy and he's already agitating him. As if it wasn't enough to be thrown into a crazy mission like this. Well, he supposes everyone's first mission is "crazy" to them, but still.
He leans against the cold wall and listens to the rain outside, while he and Pliskin do fuck-all to advance their goals. He feels like an impatient, demanding kid, but at the same time, he's been given a job to do and Campbell expects him to do it in a timely manner.
Raiden huffs, and catches Pliskin watching him again. He turns his head away just before Raiden can glare at him.
The man's been eyeing him quite a bit. Not necessarily leering in a gross way, or giving him the feeling of distrust, but rather interested in him.
Raiden doesn't doubt he thinks he's a girl, especially with the skin-tight suit that only enhances his curves. It doesn't help that he can't bind his chest or pack his cock on missions, lest they interfere with the functionality of his suit and freedom of movement during battle.
He hates how the extra attention makes him feel, however misguided it might be.
"I never got your name, by the way," Pliskin murmurs to break the silence, "I've given you mine, though."
"It's Raiden."
He quirks his head and huffs smoke towards the ground. "Weird name for a girl."
"I'm not a girl," he corrects, and it comes out a bit harsher than intended, "Whatever, it's not important."
"You're not?"
"Yeah. Not really, anyway." He notices the look on Pliskin's face, and tries to scrape together some way to explain. "I mean, I was born a girl. I'm not anymore."
The older man nods slowly, then grunts as he takes a drag from his cigarette.
"I heard about that in a movie once."
"Huh?"
"In a movie. Something about a woman becoming a man," he clarifies, "That's you, right?"
Raiden sighs. He should've just let it go. "Yeah, I guess."
He paces around the landing impatiently, watching for anyone or anything that might want to catch them off-guard. He can feel Pliskin's eyes following his every step, though he gets the feeling it's more than surface-level observation. The man flicks ash onto the floor and sweeps it off the edge of the metal stairs to dispose of the evidence.
"So. What's the situation with you? Do you have a..." He makes a jerking-off motion with his hand.
"No, I don't."
He gives him a single nod, and Raiden notices what feels like intrigue coming from the man. Maybe he's never met a transsexual before, or at least never got the logistics of it. He wonders if this is mere morbid fascination.
"What, you wanna take it for a test drive?"
He seems at least a tiny bit amused by Raiden's awkwardness. "That depends. Are you sterile?"
Well, he hadn't quite expected that. This guy really brute-forces his way through conversations.
Raiden certainly isn't opposed to it; he's handsome and looks strong enough to give Raiden what he likes, especially judging by the bulge in his fatigues. How long had Pliskin been getting hard over him? Jesus Christ.
"I'm on the pill."
Pliskin waves him over, then pats his lap. Raiden knows if he sits on top of him, he's not coming away from it with his dignity.
"Sit?" he offers, noticing the unsure look on Raiden's face, "I won't do anything you don't want me to, kid. We can just forget about it, if you want."
Against his better judgement, he nods.
Raiden glances around for a moment, then Pliskin moves his rifle out of the way so that the boy can straddle his thighs. The corrugated metal stairs are hard on his knees, but the way Pliskin holds him is worth it.
It feels strange, to say the least, but he likes it. The riskiness and impulsivity has him soaked.
"You look nice like this," he comments, kneading Raiden's thick thighs with strong hands, "Wish we had more time, huh?"
"Yeah..."
"You'll need this off," Pliskin says softly, snapping the elastic in his Skull Suit against Raiden's thigh.
Fortunately, this model has a double-ended, ease-of-use zipper down the front that loops around to his ass. It makes for a much less risky and vulnerable time when soldiers need to use the bathroom, but he doubts FOXHOUND anticipated them being utilized like this...
He grabs Pliskin's hand and brings it to the base of his tailbone, where his fingers find the lower zipper-head. The man's breath shudders slightly against his neck as he unzips the skintight suit, all the way to the front, just a couple inches shy of his belly.
Raiden, for the first time, doesn't look at Pliskin. He looks off to the side instead, not wanting to come face-to-face with someone judgmental or let-down by what he's packing.
"Believe me, I'm more disappointed than you are," Raiden jokes, though it doesn't feel very laughable at the moment, "If it's not what you're after, then- Ah-!"
He jolts when Pliskin's fingers meet his cunt, touching and rubbing with interest. His hand is warm and the callouses on his fingers feel surprisingly good against his clit, his pussy still smooth and soft from having shaved just before the mission; the clingy suits don't play nice with body hair.
"They really thought of everything, huh?"
"Not everything. No condoms."
"I'm clean," Pliskin assures him, rubbing teasing circles around his clit, "Are you worried?"
"I wasn't saying it's a bad thing."
Pliskin scoffs, almost a laugh but not quite.
If he's bothered by his anatomy, he certainly doesn't express that. Maybe he's one of those men who just sees pussy as pussy. Raiden doesn't care much either, as long as he gets inside him.
Raiden whines softly when Pliskin pushes two fingers inside, then immediately feels his cheeks heat up when he realizes just how wet he is. His slick easily coats the man's fingers, allowing him to pump them quickly and tease Raiden from the inside.
"Wanna ride you. I've never... But I want to."
"I bet you can figure it out."
Raiden fumbles a little with the man's belt and zipper out of eagerness, before finally tugging his thick, meaty erection free from his cargo pants. He's big and uncut, the tip flushed and leaking into Raiden's fingers as he strokes him in sync with Pliskin's own fingers inside him.
He feels a warm sigh on his neck again, Pliskin nudging his face against his cheek and mussing his hair a little.
"We don't have all night," the man reminds him, and it sounds like he regrets that.
"Pushy, aren't you?"
The emphasis is a bit lost with how breathless Raiden is, and how red his cheeks are.
He has to tug Pliskin's hand by the wrist and stop him so he doesn't cum early. He slips his fingers out and guides Raiden's hips to hover just above his cock, so the younger man can sink down on it.
Raiden gasps and shivers at the sudden fullness, Pliskin's cock stretching him wide around its hot, veiny girth. He sinks down inch by inch, until he feels the man's balls pressed firmly against his ass. Slowly, he raises and drops his hips, his thighs shaking - not just from how good he feels inside, but from how risky and reckless they're being.
"There you go. Not hard at all."
"Something's hard."
That gets another half-hearted huff from Pliskin. Tough crowd.
"Faster."
Raiden nods and braces his knees against the same step Pliskin is sitting on, before he starts bouncing faster. He's pretty sure his eyes roll back in pleasure, the slight curve of the man's cock hitting his sweet spot so nicely from this angle. Pliskin brushes his blond hair out of his face, then grabs a handful of it to yank him close enough for a kiss.
Raiden whines at the pain, but sloppily kisses back.
Pliskin's warm and demanding, yet controlled in how much he takes from Raiden, his overgrown stubble scraping his soft skin. He tastes like stale coffee and cigarettes; a flavor he'd normally find gross, but now just makes him wetter. God only knows why.
"Good, good-- You're doing good," that gravelly, manly voice praises between kisses, "Keep going."
Raiden wouldn't stop if someone offered him a million dollars.
He has to lock his arms around Pliskin's shoulders to keep from slipping out of his lap, muffling his noises of pleasure against his jacket. The man rubs his back, plays with his hair, keeps him pressed to his muscled chest while he bounces on his dick desperately.
He feels so full, the tip of his cock beating his swollen cervix when he rides him too hard. Tears prickle at his eyes, but he keeps going. Pliskin rubs his belly, then lower, just above his pussy, drawing tingling heat down towards his womb.
"Y-You're so..."
Raiden can't finish.
He tries to alternate between deep, long motions, and short, quick pulses on his cock, and before long, Pliskin is groping at his body and squeezing hard, groaning through gritted teeth.
He shakes his head to get his hair out of his face, and accidentally locks eyes with the man he's riding, sky blue meeting steel. He's looking up at Raiden with unabashed lust, mouth parted in a raw moan. Pliskin grabs him a little too forcefully in his fervor, grunting when he crushes their mouths together again and hoists Raiden up so he can thrust into him instead.
"Ah! What're you... Oh, God-"
Pliskin shuts him up with a kiss, pinning Raiden to his body while he fucks him so hard and fast that he starts getting motion sick. He's sweating in his suit, clit throbbing on each impact, his pleasure strung taut like a wire. He's a mess and seconds away from the release he needs so badly.
Raiden lets out a muffled cry and gushes on his cock when it happens, thighs shaking hard, his brain fried from the man pounding his soaking wet slit with so much hunger and heat. Pliskin damn near growls - whether from the boy's sudden orgasm or his own impending one, Raiden doesn't know. He only knows that he's clinging to Pliskin blindly and when he lets out a choked grunt and goes still inside Raiden, he feels his pussy flooded with pulses of hot cum.
Although Raiden's pretty grateful for birth control... he doubts he would've done much differently without it.
It takes the man a while to finish, holding Raiden still and using him to milk every drop from his balls.
"Hurts," he complains, "That's... enough."
Pliskin finally goes slack beneath him, letting Raiden wrest himself from his iron grip and pull off his cock with a wet pop.
With clumsy fingers, he zips his suit closed before he can leak any evidence of their coupling. Pliskin follows suit, panting shallowly and tucking himself away, then immediately lighting up another cigarette. Raiden huffs and pushes himself up on wobbly legs.
He feels the numb, throbbing heat between his legs, his thighs still trembling weakly as he leans against the wall and pants sharply.
God, he's stupid. If Colonel Campbell ever found out about this kind of behavior...
"My, uh... mentor, always told me not to spit when I'm on a mission."
"Why's that?"
"Because the enemy can use saliva to track you." He looks Raiden up and down, lingering on his lower half. "Wonder what he'd say about this."
"Well... At least it's not anywhere they'll find it?"
"They might do a cavity search on you if you get caught."
"Okay. Whatever."
Pliskin blows a plume of smoke in his direction. "I think I've rested enough. We should get moving."