| Rhadical
Relief |
Bored bored bored. Gaheris Rhade was bored. And horny. And more than slightly drunk. Harper had finished fine-tuning the Dylan hologram, but Rhade wasn’t quite ready to face it. He’d flicked it on for a moment while Harper had been there and the sight of his best friend had hurt. If only he’d held off killing Dylan for just ten minutes, they both would have come through the black hole alive and he wouldn’t have to be bored and horny alone.
Best not to think about it, Rhade decided, and poured himself another drink. The only problem was, trying not to think about it had the opposite effect. Rhade remembered bored with Dylan: they’d gone bar hopping, or flown the slipfighters through an asteroid belt, or played Go until Dylan got annoyed at always losing. The horny part... well that had never really been addressed.
There had always been tension there, just subtle little things. A hand on the shoulder for a moment longer than appropriate, a congratulatory hug that was just a little too close, those pats on the ass while playing basketball...
Damn, this wasn’t helping, Rhade adjusted himself and glared at the Go board. It was all set up, the control flexi lying next to it. He’d usually been half-hard when playing Go: a natural reaction to competition with a worthy opponent. Plus trying to get one over on Dylan was fun.
Rhade twitched: one *what*, over Dylan?
The last of the brandy found its way into Rhade’s glass and then into Rhade’s stomach. It burned, but not as much as the memory of Dylan’s smiling face, soft hair, and strong hands. Rhade was drunk enough to admit that he’d always wanted those hands wrapped around his cock. Oh god, that *mouth* around his cock
Rhade’s pants were too tight now, so it seemed quite natural to open them up and yank them down to his knees. He smiled blearily down at his cock, which oozed back at him. "Never got a chance at him, did you?" Rhade asked it, brushing his fingers over the damp tip, then sucking them clean. His cock seemed to like that, so he got to work, stroking, squeezing and rolling his hips to memories of Dylan.
Dylan on command, every inch the High Guard poster boy.
Dylan during his black ops days with the Argosy, sneaky and manipulative.
Dylan grinning at him over the Go board, as they discussed everything from philosophy to Ensign Bader’s taste in frilly lingerie.
Dylan after a game of baskeball, oozing pheromone-laden sweat.
Dylan in the locker-room showers afterwards, soap sliding down the indentation of his spine, to slip lovingly between the cheeks of his ass...
Rhade grunted and leaned forward, one hand working his cock furiously, the other reaching out to brace himself on the table. His hand landed on the flexi and holo-Dylan flickered into photonic life, smiling. It was enough to drive Rhade over the edge. Come spurted through Dylan’s face and knocked a Go piece off the board.
Dylan blinked. "Nice shot Gaheris, but isn’t that an illegal move?"