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Lance had a plan, back in the beginning. It didn't last long, sure, because life insisted on throwing wrenches into it from the get-go, but there was, originally, a plan.
Get into the Garrison: check.
Get into the fighter class pilot track: uh. First hiccup. Cargo class, here he comes.
Get assigned a roommate and discover that they're awesome: qualified success. Hunk was amazing in every way, as a study buddy and a friend and a procurer of the finest midnight snacks, except for the part where he kept puking in the simulators and bombing their scores. Otherwise, check.
Pay attention, do well, make his family proud, try not to chase too much tail and get himself in trouble: eh, work in progress but doing pretty good so far.
This was where it all really fell apart: the barracks had communal showers.
Lance got an eyeful of his roommate's dick.
Cue the air raid sirens.
It haunted him late at night in his bunk, and waiting in the cafeteria line, and during Swanson’s calculus lectures. No matter where he was, he couldn't get the image out of his head: heavy, long, gorgeous, hanging in a nest of dark hair between deliciously thick thighs— god, was Hunk a grower or a shower?
Lance had a new plan. Lance’s new plan might involve choking on Hunk’s incredible dick. Maybe. He would neither confirm nor deny.
No, fuck, who was he kidding? He was definitely angling to choke on that dick. He had to get his mouth on that beauty. It was just so… big. And thick. And long, and enticing, and— and fucking perfect, all right? A perfect dick all around. So, look, if he was doing it? If he was breaking his own self-imposed moratorium on sexytimes and going there with the guy who was rapidly earning the title of ‘best friend ever’ ?
Lance was going to be perfect.
So he started pilfering bananas from the mess hall to practice on. Who needed a gag reflex? Not Lance, that's for sure. Fuck, he wanted that thing all the way down his throat.
The new plan went like this:
Step One: train away his gag reflex, as much as possible. At least to the point where he wouldn’t embarrass himself. (That part was progressing nicely in his off-hours, except he kept having to steal new bananas as the old ones got overripe. The mess officer was growing suspicious.)
Step Two: convince Hunk to drop his pants to his ankles and let Lance go to town.
…Hey, he never claimed it was a complex plan.
Sometimes, Lance was discovering, the direct approach was best.
Well, no, it was just that sometimes he laid all his finest lines on his best friend and said best friend simply laughed them off like he thought Lance was joking, as if Lance would joke about wanting to suck Hunk's perfect dick—
Anyway.
Direct approach.
“Hey, Hunk,” he said one evening, lounging across his bunk in the most enticing manner he could manage. Hunk had just returned from the showers and was all damp and delicious-looking in his orange pyjamas. “You don't take hints well, just FYI. So I’m going to ask straight-out: can I suck your dick?”
Lance thought that was pretty clear, but Hunk just kind of stared at him for a moment, and then sputtered out something that sounded like it should’ve been words but was really, really not, and ended with a choked, “What?”
“I want to blow you,” Lance said slowly. “Let me? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
“What— holy crap, dude, you were serious?”
“Uh, hell yeah, I was serious. Am serious. Like, have you seen your dick? I’ve been drooling over the idea for weeks. Why else do you think I was using all my lines on you?”
“...Practice?”
“Dude. I’m way smoother than that.”
Hunk gave him a capital-letter Look, eyebrows and all. “Hate to break it to you, buddy, but—”
“Do not finish that sentence, Hunk. I am a master of suaveness and you know it. Now are you gonna let me suck you off or what?”
Hunk dropped his head into his hands, and his, “Oh my god, Lance,” came out muffled. Lance kept his head cocked to the side all inviting-like, showing off his throat. The throat that he really wanted Hunk’s magnificent dick to push into. Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.
Finally, Hunk looked up again, flushed across the cheeks and nose with a determined glint in his eye. “I… okay. Okay, yeah. How can I say no to that kind of offer?”
Fuck yeah. “Great, come on, come sit down.”
“What, now?”
“Yes, now! What better time? I’m an impatient guy, you know that.”
Hunk was turning even redder (which was, god, just unfairly endearing), but he shoved his pyjama pants off without ceremony and sat on the edge of the bed next to Lance, bare from the waist down.
This was like the best birthday present ever, and it wasn’t even Lance’s birthday. Direct approach for the win. All the points to Lance.
He scrambled off the bed to sit at Hunk’s feet and slid his palms up Hunk’s naked thighs, guiding them apart so he could fit between and get face to face with the glory of that massive dick. Hunk still looked a little rattled, and Lance was maybe a little rattled too now that this was actually happening. He couldn’t stop the babble pouring from him.
“Do you even know, Hunk, can you even understand— I’ve been dreaming about this, I’m actually drooling right now, Jesus fuck—”
There was that determined glint in Hunk’s eyes again. “Did you just want to talk to it?”
“I, uh—” But really, there was no appropriate response to that except to lean forward and put his mouth on it. Hunk hissed and hunched over Lance, his hands fisting in the blankets. He wasn’t even hard yet — nervous, probably — but Lance didn’t care; it wouldn’t be a problem to get him there. With his tongue. Yeah, Lance was really, genuinely drooling.
He started slow, lifting it with gentle fingers, kissing the tip and around the flared edge of the head, and wow, it had been a while since he last sucked a real dick (and it was only the once) but he hadn’t realized just how much he’d forgotten about the experience. It was nothing like a banana. For one thing, Hunk made all these amazing little noises whenever Lance did something he liked. And his dick swelled and stiffened as Lance worked his way down to the base with wet kisses.
Grower. Oh, sweet hell. Lance might actually cry.
He pressed his lips to the web of skin where balls met shaft, sucked lightly just to hear the guttural noise Hunk made, then steadied it with one hand and dragged his tongue flat up the underside. By the time he reached the tip, Hunk was fully hard and moaning continuously.
Lance wrapped his lips around the head and sucked. Hunk choked on air.
Hunk’s dick tasted even better than Lance had imagined, all sweet skin and the tang of precome, still a little damp from the shower, heavy and warm on his tongue. It filled up his mouth like a dream. He shifted on the floor, trying to find some friction for himself, but his boxers were too loose to provide any relief for his aching boner. Sorry, buddy, he thought dizzily at it, gotta wait a little bit. We need to swallow this dick first.
With a deep breath, Lance gathered himself and slid his mouth down as low as he could, pushing the head past his soft palate and into his throat to the sound of Hunk's shocked whimper.
And promptly gagged. Dammit, he’d hoped to be smoother than that. Betrayed by bananas.
Hunk quickly drew him off with a hand on his jaw. “Lance, god, don’t hurt yourself.”
“‘M not, dude, you’ve gotta let me— c’mon, man, just fuck my face, I can take it, I’ve been practicing.” Wait, shit, he didn’t mean to admit to the practicing. But hey, if it meant Hunk would be more willing to just go for it like Lance wanted him to... He chased after Hunk’s dick, trying to shake free from the restraining hand keeping him from his prize. His hard-earned prize. “Hunk, please.”
Add begging to the list of things that did the trick for Hunk, because, with a very sexy groan, he let Lance suck him back in. His hands settled on Lance’s head again, but this time they were guiding him closer and—
“— nnghk.”
Oh. Fuck. Yes. Hunk petted Lance’s jaw as he pressed his hips up a little, and Lance dropped his hands to Hunk’s legs so he could focus on relaxing his throat and taking each slow, careful thrust as deep as Hunk would let him. Not as deep as he wanted, but so close. The crown brushed the back of his tongue and it was almost there.
“Okay?” Hunk asked. Couldn’t he tell that Lance was teetering on the edge of paradise? All he needed was to get those last few inches down into his throat and he could die happy.
He moaned and squeezed his hands on Hunk’s thighs, trying to pull him deeper in. Give me your dick, man, you said you would so just fucking do it.
“Practicing,” Hunk said breathlessly. “So that’s what all the bananas were for.” When Lance made an offended noise around his mouthful, Hunk shot him another capital-letter Look. “What, did you really think, oh god, that they were subtle? Dude, they’re— ah— they're bananas. They made our whole room smell like banana.”
Okay, no. Lance didn’t want to relinquish his prize, but Hunk was holding back anyway and some things were simply not to be borne, like really now—
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said loftily, pulling off but keeping his cheek pressed up to the side of that fantastic dick. Now that he finally had it in his clutches, he didn’t want to let it get away. Not before he could swallow it properly. “I’m just very concerned with my potassium levels. This right here is one hundred percent raw, natural talent.”
“You literally just said you’ve been practicing.”
“To hone my raw, natural talent. Like a blade.” He grabbed Hunk by the hips. “Now come on, we were just getting to the good part and then you had to go and impugn my honor like that—”
“Lance.”
“Let me deepthroat you, man. I wanna get my lips all the way down to your short ‘n curlies. I want you to fuck my mouth so hard it makes my voice all raspy. I want to swallow your dick, dude; are you gonna keep teasing or are you gonna get back here and come down my throat?”
“Holy shit, Lance.”
Lance wiggled his eyebrows in the most over-the-top fashion he could manage. “Let me blow your mind.”
“Aaand you ruined it,” Hunk said, snorting a laugh. “Jeez, stop talking.”
“Make me. You can do it, big guy, you have the technology. Or the anatomy, as it were, just— ah, yeah, like thaaaghk.”
“Good?”
Lance gave him an emphatic thumbs up.
And yes, this was more like it. Hunk wasn’t trying to hold him back anymore, just resting his big hands on the sides of Lance’s head and letting him go to town. Finally. Lance worked his mouth down fast, before Hunk could change his mind, stretching his tongue along the underside of Hunk’s dick and opening his throat, and—
Fuck, there. Hunk groaned as the head slipped past Lance's soft palate and down again, easier this time, and Lance just kept going. All the way. He needed to get Hunk’s dick completely inside, needed to seal his lips around the very base, needed to feel that burning stretch in the back of his throat as he swallowed around it— god, yes, just like that. Above him, Hunk’s voice cut off with a gasp, then picked back up again in a warbling moan that shot like lightning straight through Lance, made his dick jump.
“Nnn— oh my god. You just… Fffff. Lance.”
Lance pushed his nose into Hunk’s groin, got himself a nice facefull of shower-clean skin and hair (so soft, seriously, did Hunk shampoo and condition his pubes?), worked his jaw around the girth and swallowed again. Hunk sobbed; Lance congratulated himself on a job well done, bobbing his head to feel the heavy slide all the way down.
Eventually, unfortunately, he had to pull back for air. He let Hunk’s dick slip from his throat (soon, baby, I’ll be back soon) and panted as his airway opened back up, but kept the head on his tongue and slurped, refusing to relinquish it entirely. Hunk’s thumb brushed along his cheekbone, gathering the wetness under his eye, and Lance was, wow, crying on Hunk’s dick, and why was that thought so hot? Fuck. Dick so far down his throat that his eyes watered. Goddamn.
Hunk stared at him, all slack-jawed and red-faced. “That’s… oh, man. You’re amazi— hnn god.”
Lance looked up from where he’d sunk down again, nose right back in those stupidly soft pubes, and hummed.
“Holy…” Hunk murmured, and whined through his teeth.
With a filthy, wet noise, Lance drew back slightly, then dropped forward again, fighting past the reflexive clench that told him he was choking. (No, he wasn't choking, body, shut the hell up. At least not choking in any way he didn't want to be.) Fresh tears sprang to his eyes from the stretch and slide of Hunk moving in his throat, and he'd known that he’d be into this but he hadn't realized just how much he’d be into this. His boxers were getting a wet spot from all the precome he was leaking.
Hmm. What if… He brought one hand to his neck and flattened his palm over the front.
Yes, oh wow, oh sweet merciful fuck, he could feel Hunk’s dick from the outside, thick and solid and inside him, right there under his skin.
Hunk had to know about this.
Lance scrabbled for Hunk’s wrist, furrowing his eyebrows and ignoring the slightly concerned look he was getting. Hunk would understand in a moment. Lance finally caught Hunk's hand and guided it to wrap over the front of his throat up under the jaw, laying his own on top to keep it there. Then he bobbed again, driving Hunk’s dick deeper.
Making it move under their hands.
“Is that my…?” Hunk whispered.
In reply, Lance swallowed and shoved his mouth further down.
“It is, oh my god, Lance, that’s…”
Lance squeezed his hand, because yes, yes that was indeed ‘his…’ in Lance’s throat. And it felt absolutely fucking incredible to have it there. Lance needed to get someone’s hand on his own dick, pronto, because swallowing Hunk’s was driving him crazy and these loose boxers just weren’t cutting it in the friction department.
He slid his mouth up and then down again, slow, fucking his throat open on Hunk’s impressive girth, and breathing was overrated, honestly. Hunk's hand twitched under his jaw and that was way better than oxygen. His lungs were starting to burn, though, so he had to pull further back for a moment to gasp; he could feel every inch of retreat from the inside and out, under his fingers. Spit smeared past his lips to drip messily down.
A breath. Two. Then he dove right back in, sinking down and taking Hunk deep.
Smoother every time. Shit, that felt good. Hunk's overwhelmed noises felt good, too. Lance swallowed that gorgeous, thick dick, and then he grabbed Hunk by the hips and pulled.
Hunk, of course, didn't get the hint. So Lance did it again.
Still, Hunk remained stubbornly motionless. He did run shaking fingers through Lance's hair, though, which was nice, but not what Lance was after. Lance caught that hand in his own and tightened its grip pointedly.
“You— you want me to…?” Hunk murmured, panting.
Lance lifted a brow at him, and when Hunk just kept looking at him and not moving, Lance pulled all the way off.
“Hunk. Fuck my face. Do you need an embossed invitation or something? Come on, dude.” New secret weapon time; Hunk still wore that skeptical expression. “Please. Please fuck my face.”
“Ah— jeez, you’re gonna kill me doing that. Okay. God. Just… don’t let me hurt you.”
Lance was too busy stuffing his mouth full of dick to respond to that with more than a groan. He guided Hunk’s hands back into his hair, and then, when Hunk finally gripped like Lance wanted, slid his own hands around Hunk’s hips and pulled again. This time, Hunk went with it.
Yes yes yes hell yes. Hunk made a ragged sound, biting his lip as he thrust into Lance’s throat, in, and down, and the head of his dick was lodged somewhere that had to be halfway down Lance’s esophagus and Lance was in fucking paradise. He let his jaw go lax, let Hunk push in, slide over his tongue and through the tight squeeze at the back of his throat and further, deeper. Let Hunk set the rhythm and just held tight to his hips for the ride.
“Hnn. Hah— Lance?” Hunk slipped one hand through Lance’s hair to cup gently around the back of his head. Caging him in, if he wanted.
He nodded eagerly into the pressure, once, twice, not able to move much, looking up at Hunk and trying a grin that didn’t really fit around the dick in his mouth. But the message must have gotten through because Hunk groaned from somewhere deep down and gave him this scorching look and then he pushed on the back of Lance's skull until Lance’s mouth was pressed tight to his groin.
Ah, yes. The whole fantastic length of that dick jammed down his throat, throbbing and hot and forcing his jaw wide open. His watering eyes closed in bliss.
Another thrust, and a third, and more, shoving deep. Hunk’s thighs tensed and worked under Lance’s arms, and the fingers in his hair thankfully gave no indication of letting up any time soon, so Lance dropped a hand to palm himself through his boxers. God, he was going to go off in a hot minute.
Spots wobbled at the edges of his vision. Why was breathing a thing? Not fair. He was going to stage a protest.
He pushed back against Hunk's hand and the pressure immediately let up; he met Hunk's concerned glance with a lascivious look, sucked in air, and dropped his throat back over Hunk's dick in an easy slide that made them both moan. Mmm, he was getting good at this. Bananas as a species had now earned his forgiveness for their earlier betrayal.
Not to mention the fact that every time the thick head speared past his tonsils and Hunk made that broken noise, Lance's dick throbbed under his palm.
Hunk caught his head again, and Lance worked his throat around him, and then Hunk really let go, pulling Lance's face in to meet his thrusts. Fast and hard. Fucking his mouth, just like Lance had asked for, pleaded for, and oh, it was perfect. He could feel the tension in Hunk's legs, could feel how close he was in the way his balls tightened on Lance's lower lip, and Lance wanted that so bad it burned. Wanted Hunk to come buried in his throat.
He jerked himself roughly through his boxers, drooling around Hunk’s dick with reflexive tears still dripping down his cheeks. His throat stretched, tight and stinging, gripping on every retreat, and he was just mindlessly grinding into his own palm and snatching air whenever he could and letting his throat be fucking used and oh, oh sweet hell, he was going to come with Hunk’s unbelievable dick displacing his tonsils. God. Life was beautiful. Blowjobs were beautiful. Hunk’s dick was the most beautiful of all.
The fingers of Lance’s other hand dug into the flesh of Hunk’s hip when Hunk pulled him in again and held him there, grinding. And then Hunk was groaning out unintelligible curses and twitching on Lance’s tongue and—
—and coming in his throat, so far back Lance couldn’t taste it at all, could only feel the pulse, the warm slickness as it spurted and slid down, and he swallowed and tripped over his own orgasm at the sensation. Balls tight, shooting off under his own hand, with tears on his face and spit all over his chin and Hunk’s dick still wedged down his throat.
Amazing.
Hunk pulled back slowly, heaving in air, until his dick slid from between Lance’s lips, and Lance dropped his head to rest on one muscular thigh and wiped clumsily at his mouth. He hadn’t even gotten himself out of his boxers, which now sported a fat wet spot.
God, he was a fucking mess.
“Wow,” Hunk said. “Just… wow.”
Lance gave him a smile that was probably pretty dopey, but whatever, he was still feeling all floaty with afterglow. “That’s what she said.”
Weak. He was blaming the endorphins. And the face-fucking. Hunk's fault entirely.
“I was, uh, gonna ask how you feel, but judging from that, I’m guessing the answer is ‘fine.’”
“Fucking great,” Lance said, a bit hoarse, letting his eyes close. “Fantastic. Fabulous. Fffffucked. Hunk, your dick is a gift.”
“...Thank you?”
“No, man, thank you. Seriously.” Lance twisted his head so he could lay another kiss on the tip, just to show his appreciation. Good dick. Best dick. Dick that wrecked his throat and made him sex-loopy. It deserved all the kisses. Then he smeared a lazy line of kisses back along Hunk’s thigh, because that thigh was amazing, too, and also deserved kisses. All of Hunk deserved kisses. Lance’s world was officially rocked.
Hunk ran his hands through Lance’s hair again, soft this time, simply reshuffling the strands, and Lance melted into a puddle of very satisfied goo right there on the floor between his legs. Hunk just kept petting him. Lance smiled to himself through the post-orgasm haze.
Ah, the sweet taste of a plan come to fruition. (And dick, yeah, that too.)
Huh. Success tasted kind of like bananas.