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Kevin's back hit the wall before he even realized he was moving, his pulse jackhammering in his throat. His gills flared involuntarily under his shirt—exposed, vulnerable in a way that made his skin crawl.
Reggie was close. Too close. Close enough that Kevin could see his own reflection warped in the lenses of his sunglasses, could feel the restless energy radiating off him.
Kevin swallowed hard.
"You—don't know?" His voice cracked. "That's your big revelation? 'I don't know'?"
He meant it to come out sarcastic. It didn’t. Instead, it sounded frustrated. Almost hurt.
Like he’d been waiting for an answer—any answer—for two weeks, and this was what he got?
A half-step closer. A non-answer. A vibe.
"...You can't just say shit like that, man," Kevin muttered, gripping the railing behind him like it might steady him. "Not unless you mean it."
His eyes flicked to Reggie’s lips. Just for a second. Shit. He looked away fast.
"...And you definitely can't corner me on a boat about it. That's, like. Weirdly aggressive.”
"You could just dive into the water, can't you?"
reggie was terrifyingly close to kevin now, he's never seen him like this, his chest rising and falling rapidly, both of them still having blood on their uniforms from having to kill 'bad' guys in the name of Vought,
"I don't need a big revelation. You just want me to have one."
he paused,
"I like them. Let me see them.”
God, he wanted to. Every fiber of him was screaming to dive overboard, to disappear under water where he wouldn't be vulnerable, where he had the advantage.
But Reggie was blocking him in. And he had the audacity to order him to show them off.
Kevin bristled, his fingers clenching into fists. He'd always been impulsive, easy to anger—and right now, he was furious.
"You—you know I don't like being told what to do.”
"You're a liar. You like it."
a-train grabbed Kevin's waist and sped them over to the bed on the fancy boat— he pushed Kevin down on it, standing over him—
just so he couldn't jump into the water and leave.
"You like being told what to do, because you're lifes such a fucking mess that you dont want to make your own decisions, you want to be a little lap dog."
he pointed at Kevin's chest again,
"Show me your gills.”
Kevin gasped as the world blurred—one second he was against the wall, the next he was flat on his back, staring up at Reggie from the bed. His heart pounded so hard he could feel his gills fluttering beneath his shirt, rapid and exposed.
He should’ve been furious. And he was—part of him was seething at being manhandled, at being read so easily—but the other part?
The other part was terrified. Because Reggie wasn’t wrong.
Kevin did want someone else to take control. He wanted to stop thinking, stop deciding, stop hating every inch of himself—
And Reggie knew it.
His breath hitched.
"...You don’t get to—" His voice cracked. "Fuck you."
But his fingers were already trembling at the hem of his uniform.
He hesitated—just for a second—before slowly, agonizingly, pulling it up just enough to reveal the delicate slits along his ribs.
They pulsed unevenly in the open air, damp and vulnerable.
"...Happy?" Kevin spat, but there was no bite to it—just raw, shaky humiliation.
Because this was it. This was the part where Reggie laughed. Where he made some cruel joke. Where he proved, once and for all, that Kevin was just a freak to him.
He braced for it.
He waited for it.
And then—
Reggie touched them.
Reggie's eyes were entirely hidden by his blue sunglasses—
but,
if they weren’t, Kevin would have been able to see the way his pupils dilated— but, on the outside? reggie looks completely unbothered, his big, calloused hands slowly trailed over the edge of the slits,
"huh." he said quietly to himself
Kevin stopped breathing. Every muscle in his body locked up—his gills flaring wide at the contact before snapping shut again, sensitive and terrifyingly reactive. His fingers dug into the bedsheets, knuckles whitening.
Huh.
That was all Reggie said. Huh. Like Kevin wasn’t lying there with his biggest insecurity exposed, like this wasn’t the most vulnerable he’d ever been in his life—
And Reggie was just… observing. Kevin wanted to scream.
Instead, he gritted out, voice strained:
"Huh? What the fuck does huh mean—"
Then Reggie’s thumb brushed over the delicate membrane again, and Kevin choked on his next words, his back arching off the bed just slightly—
Oh. Oh no.
His face burned. He was not getting hard from this.
(He totally was.)
Kevin squeezed his eyes shut, mortified.
"Reggie—" His voice came out wrecked. "If you’re gonna make fun of me, just—fucking do it already—"
Because that would be better than this.
Then the quiet.
Then the touch.
Then the way Reggie’s hands felt like they were branding him.
"Do you like that?"
Reggie murmured out, completely ignoring Kevin's protests, both of his hands going to separate gills on either side of him, gently rubbing them, slightly pressing the tip of his fingers into them before pulling away,
"Does it feel weird? does it feel good?" he stared at him through his sunglasses, even though Kevin couldn't see,
"Does it feel like you got two pussies on your chest?"
there was finally a small smirk at his own words
Kevin squeaked—yes, squeaked, like some kind of distressed dolphin—when Reggie's fingers pressed deeper into the sensitive slits, his whole body jerking beneath him.
His face was burning, his breathing ragged, and—god, this was humiliating.
But also?
Also, his dick was throbbing in his stupidly tight Seven uniform, and he was pretty sure Reggie could tell, because of course he could, because the universe hated him.
"Fuck—Reggie, what the hell—" His voice cracked, high and desperate, as he writhed under the touch. "It's—it's not—I don’t have—oh my god, don’t call them that—"
But his gills were fluttering, opening and closing around Reggie’s fingers like they were trying to pull him back in, and that was somehow the worst part—the betrayal of his own stupid body.
He covered his face with his hands, groaning.
"...I hate you," he mumbled, but it lacked any real heat—mostly because he was way too busy trying not to whimper as Reggie’s thumbs traced the edges again.
Then, quieter, muffled behind his palms:
"...It feels good, okay? Happy?"
He sounded miserable about it.
Because he was.
(And also really, really turned on.)
"Can I finger your gills, Kevin?"
Reggie finally blurted out, his face was still..completely stoic— his shoulders rising and falling quickly as he breathed—Kevin’s brain short-circuited.
His hands dropped from his face, eyes blown wide—mouth opening and closing like a fish (ironic, really) as he tried to process what the hell Reggie just said.
"...What."
Not a question. Just—what.
Because no. No way. Absolutely not.
(Except his gills were already pulsing, slick and eager, like they’d been waiting for this exact horrible, humiliating question.)
Kevin squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body trembling.
"...You’re deranged," he hissed, voice wrecked.
Then, after a beat:
"...Yes."
He hated himself.
(But also, god, he wanted it.)
Reggie let out a small huff, he took a step closer to the bed, trying to hide his..also..very obvious hard on,
"This is just experimenting." Reggie murmured quietly, "I'm straight, got it?"
he slowly started to slip his fingers inside of the gills,
"ohh..holy shit that feels— really weird."
he flexed his fingers upward slightly "Fuck—!"
Kevin arched, back bowing off the bed as Reggie's fingers slid inside, the sensation so intense it was almost painful—but not quite. His gills clenched around the intrusion, fluttering wildly, trying to adjust to the foreign pressure.
Experimenting.
Straight.
Sure. Sure.
Because straight guys definitely fingered their coworkers' gills on regular occasions—
Kevin's thoughts shattered as Reggie flexed his fingers, hitting some deep, sensitive spot that made his vision whiten.
"Oh my god—" His voice was pure wreckage, hands scrabbling at the sheets, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "Reggie— Reggie, stop, I’m gonna—fuck—"
His hips jerked helplessly, his cock dripping in his uniform, because holy shit, this shouldn’t feel this good—
His gills were dripping too, slick and hot around Reggie’s fingers, and god, he was ruined.
"I can’t—" he sobbed, thighs shaking. "I’m gonna—"
Cum.
He was gonna cum from this.
And Reggie was just gonna watch.
His hand darted down, desperate to touch himself.
Please.
His fingers were shaking, and if he could just—
Abruptly, he heard a snap as his wrist slammed into the bed frame. Because Reggie had reached out faster. He'd stopped him.
Kevin's eyes fluttered open, confused.
"What—no, that's not—Reggie, come on—"
He whined.
"I dont want to watch you palm yourself in your fucking pants."
Reggie murmured as his fingers started slipping in and out of his gills, just like you would if you were fingering a girl,
"Wanna watch you feel this. wanna make sure you like this.”
Kevin whimpered—high, pathetic, broken—because Reggie was right. He hated that Reggie was right.
Palming himself would’ve been fast. Easy. A quick release to the unbearable pressure coiling in his stomach—but this? This slow, deliberate rhythm of Reggie’s fingers curling just so inside his gills? It was torture.
And it felt amazing.
His hips twitched helplessly with every thrust, chasing the sensation like an addict chasing a high—his gills clenching around each stroke like they were made for this (they weren’t). Like they’d been waiting their whole lives for A-Train to ruin him with his stupidly perfect hands (they probably had).
"Reggie—" His voice cracked on a sob as another wave of pleasure hit him square in the chest. "Please. Please—I can't—I need more."
It spilled out before he could stop it: raw and begging and so unlike anything Kevin Moskowitz ever let anyone hear from him.
(But god did he mean it.)
And that was all it took for Reggie to completely lose it. One look at Kevin—flushed, begging, wrecked—and he was gone, cursing under his breath as he unzipped his sweatpants.
"God, dammit—you look so good."
Then he was crawling over Kevin, covering him entirely.
"So damn good."
He captured Kevin's lips in a bruising, possessive kiss, his tongue slipping into his mouth. "Mmm—!"
Kevin arched into the kiss, his arms locking around Reggie's neck, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing in a world of water. His legs opened automatically, spreading wide to bracket Reggie's hips—letting him settle in against the place where he was hard and throbbing aching.
He'd never felt so exposed—so vulnerable.
It should've been mortifying.
Instead, it was the most freeing thing in the world. Kevin's gills fluttered against Reggie's chest as their bodies pressed together, saltwater and sweat mingling in the heat between them. His laugh came out breathless—half delirious, half awestruck.
"Holy shit," he gasped against Reggie's mouth, fingers tightening on his shoulders. "You're really bad at being straight."
Then he rocked up against him, grinning as Reggie choked out a curse. "Keep going.”
"Sex is a spectrum, ain't it?" Reggie reached between them and started palming Kevin's hard cock between them, unzipping his uniform slowly, letting his cock spring out, wrapping his big hand around it,
and slowly started jerking him off.
"It's not like I'm confessing my love for you." he murmured quietly, slowly sliding his glasses up with his free hand. "My cocks are hard. I wanna get off."
but his pupils were blown wide, "better than fucking the goddamn dolphins like you do, huh?”
Kevin barked out a laugh—sharp and startled—before it melted into a punched-out moan as Reggie's hand wrapped around him.
"Yeah, spectrum—sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," he panted, hips bucking into the touch. "Fuck, yeah, just like that—"
Then Reggie took off his sunglasses, and oh.
Kevin saw it—the way his pupils swallowed the light, the way his breath hitched just slightly when their eyes met. His grin turned smug.
"Ohhh, you're so full of shit," he murmured, rolling his hips up into Reggie's grip. "You totally have a crush on me."
Then, because he couldn't help himself:
"...And yes, obviously better than the dolphins—what the hell, man—"
He was never living that down. But right now? He didn’t care.
Not when Reggie’s thumb swiped over his slit, sending sparks up his spine.
"Harder," he demanded, voice wrecked. "C'mon—don’t be a tease—”
"You're getting impatient. We have another 3 hours together on this boat." reggie slowly pulled away, sitting up—
he started unzipping his own uniform, before peeling it off—
"I do not have a crush on you. You think I fuck the people i gave crushes on like this? Nah. Id take you on a nice date first."
he unzipped Kevin's uniform quickly, yanking it off and tossing it to the side, both of them completely exposed now—
Kevin made a wounded noise when Reggie pulled away, already missing the heat of his hand—until he processed the words.
"Three hours?" he repeated, eyes widening before his expression shifted into something predatory. "Oh, we’re fucked."
Then Reggie stripped, and—
Kevin licked his lips.
Oh.
Reggie was built. All lean muscle and sharp angles, the kind of body that belonged on a magazine cover.
And Kevin wanted to ruin him. He reached out, fingers skimming up Reggie’s thigh with a smirk.
"A date?" he purred, tilting his head. "You wish, Franklin." Then, softer—wilder: "C'mere."
He yanked him back down, rolling them over so he was on top this time, straddling Reggie’s waist with a grin.
"Let’s see if you can keep up.”
Kevin didn't give Reggie time to react—he rocked down against him with a filthy roll of his hips, the friction perfect, the heat between them dizzying. His hands braced on Reggie's chest, fingers digging into the firm muscle there as he ground against him, his smirk turning feral.
"Still think you don't have a crush?" he panted, breath hitching as Reggie's cock slid just right against his ass. "Bullshit."
Then he leaned down, lips brushing Reggie's ear as he whispered— "Bet you fantasized about this. Bet you dreamed about getting me just like this—desperate, begging, yours—"
He punctuated each word with another slow, maddening grind, watching Reggie's face twist with want. "...Admit it.”
"Oh— fucking dickhead—" Reggie grabbed onto his hips roughly, digging his fingers into the muscles— his hips bucked up against kevins ass, his hard cock rubbing right against his cheeks, "ugh— fuck you. Don't project your perverted fantasies onto me."
his eyebrows furrowed, his lip twitching,
"Just let me fuck you— ride me, i dont give a shit what you do—" one of his hands slowly slid up his waist, sliding his fingers into his gills, "Fuck..You need to be like...prepped or whatever, dont you— ive never fucked a dude before—”
Kevin gasped as Reggie’s fingers slipped back into his gills, the sensation sending an electric jolt down his spine. He rolled his hips again, this time dragging Reggie’s cock right between his cheeks, the pressure maddening.
"Prepped—? Oh my god, you’re adorable—" He laughed, breathless, grinding down harder. "No, dumbass, I don’t need—fuck—I don’t need prepping—"
He leaned back just enough to reach between them, spitting into his palm before wrapping his fingers around Reggie’s cock, stroking him slow—just to watch him squirm.
"I wish you could see your face right now," he teased, biting his lip as he positioned himself, the tip pressing right where he wanted it. "First time—holy shit—you’re never gonna recover from this."
Then, in one slow, filthy roll of his hips— He took him. All of him. And the sound Reggie made— Kevin grinned.
"Told you you had a crush.”
Reggies head fell backwards into the pillow like it suddenly weighed 100 tons,
"Oh. oh fuck. oh fuck!"
Reggie's fingers twitched inside of his gills, his other hand having a bruising grip on his waist,
"how many— ugh— dudes you fuck before me to not even need prep? y-you a little slut, kev?”
Kevin laughed, a low gasp of a sound edged with something dark—something feral—at the question. He was too far gone to care if it came out more defensive than he intended:
"Plenty."
He didn't move, not yet, waiting until he'd stretched around Reggie's ridiculous girth enough to be comfortable. But—
He was impatient.
Impatient and eager, and he was starting to realize that Reggie was a goddamn brat, through and through, "You jealous?”
"Maybe a little— mngh— pissed off that you're probably running around and getting trains ran on you—" he let out a small huff, "and I'm getting..sloppy seconds right now.."
his hips bucked up weakly, and he let out a loud groan, "f-fucking— slut. you gunna ride me properly or not??”
"Oh—"
That was it. A switch flipped, and something lit up inside Kevin. Something that had nothing to do with his gills and everything to do with the way Reggie was looking at him—the way he was talking to him—the audacity.
Kevin glared down at him, one hand going to his throat as he slowly—slowly—began to ride him.
"Don't," he said, quiet and venomous, "Ever—call me a slut. Again.”
"Fuck— yeah? you don't like the truth?" Reggie's hips bucked up with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, "you gunna choke me— cuz i just called you what you are? a slut who liked to get his— mn— hole filled?”
Kevin’s grip tightened—just enough to make Reggie gasp, his other hand slamming down on the mattress beside Reggie’s head.
"You—"
He leaned in, lips hovering over his—close enough to kiss but refusing to. Close enough for their breath to mingle.
"—are such a fucking dick," he whispered before finally crashing their mouths together in a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue and punishment.
His hips snapped down hard as he kissed him, riding him with rough, angry rolls—no finesse now, just pure possession. No sweetness or teasing left anymore; this was about proving something:
That Kevin wasn't some easy slut who took anyone. (Even if it was true.)
Reggie moaned into the kiss, hands scrambling—one tangling in Kevin’s hair, the other gripping his shoulder hard enough to leave bruises.
The anger? The possessiveness? It sent Reggie's head spinning.
He didn't expect Kevin to be like this—so feral, so dominant when usually he was all nervous energy and overcompensation. But right now? Right now, Kevin looked like he wanted to destroy him.
And goddamn if that didn’t make Reggie’s cock throb even harder inside him.
He broke the kiss with a wet gasp, chest heaving as his hips jerked up wildly beneath Kevin—not graceful anymore either; just frantic fucking motion.
"Fuck—Kev," he panted between ragged breaths before biting down on his bottom lip again.
No more teasing left in either of them—just pure heat and friction and two idiots losing their minds on a boat in the middle of nowhere
"Kev—ah, god, that's good—" Reggie was desperate now, bucking up wildly into him, and—god, it was like something in Kevin snapped. Something feral and possessive and wild that came from somewhere dark, somewhere deeper than the depths of the ocean.
He snarled. "Shut. Up,"
he growled, fingers digging into Reggie's sides as if to hold him in place. He had a moment to appreciate how big Reggie felt inside him, filling him up just right——and then Kevin moved, rolling his hips in sharp, punishing thrusts that had Reggie seeing stars.
The boat rocked slightly beneath them—not enough to be dangerous, but just enough to add a thrilling instability to the rhythm. Every snap of Kevin's hips sent jolts of pleasure up Reggie’s spine, and he could feel himself losing control fast—faster than he’d ever lost it with anyone else.
"Fuck—Kevin," Reggie choked out again, hands sliding down his back before gripping his ass hard—trying (and failing) to help him move faster.
He was so close already; it shouldn't have been possible after only this long. But goddamn if Kevin didn't know exactly how to wreck him.
"S-so fucking good, kev. You feel so good— ugh— no wonder everyone wants to fuck this tight ass—"his rough hands grabbed onto kevins ass cheeks, spreading them apart— "so good— fuck. fuck."
Reggie lets out a weak groan, his hips starting to piston up into Kevin every time he slams down on his cock—
Kevin lets out a broken noise—half moan, half growl—when Reggie spread him, the lewd sound of their skin slapping together filling the cabin. "Shut—up—" he panted, nails biting into Reggie's chest as he chased his own pleasure, riding him with reckless abandon now.
He didn't care if he was being sloppy. Didn't care if Reggie thought he was easy. All that mattered was the heat coiling tight in his gut, the way Reggie’s cock dragged against every perfect spot inside him—
"Fuck—Reggie—"
His vision whited out as he came, untouched, back arching as he clenched around him.
Reggie sat up fully, wrapping his arms roughly against Kevin's waists— like some fucked up hug,
"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck."
his hips started fucking him even faster, a small bit of blue blur following with his actions, purely chasing his own pleasure.
he fucked into him hard and fast, the coil in his gut tightening rapidly.
Kevin whimpered, overstimulated and still clenching around him, but Reggie didn’t slow—if anything, the blue blur of his speed made it worse.
Every thrust was brutal. Every snap of his hips sent a shockwave through Kevin’s oversensitive body—he was trembling, clinging to Reggie like he might drown if he let go.
"Too much—Reggie—ah!"
He buried his face in Reggie's shoulder as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes—not from pain (okay, maybe a little), but from how intense it all felt: the friction burning him alive inside out; the way Reggie's arms held him so tight even as they wrecked each other; how close they were despite this being purely about sex.
It shouldn't have meant anything. But god did it feel like everything right now.
Reggie didn't stop—not when Kevin whimpered, not when he clung to him like a lifeline.
The blur of his speed made everything sharp and electric—the friction almost too much, the pleasure bordering on pain—but Reggie was too far gone now. His hips pistoned with machine-like precision, each thrust driving them both closer to the edge.
His breath came in ragged bursts against Kevin's neck; sweat dripped down his back as he chased that high, that release—
And then it hit him.
A white-hot explosion tearing through his body as he came hard inside Kevin with a choked-off groan.
For a second? The world stopped.
Then reality crashed back in—heavy breathing filling the small space between them.
"Fuck..oh my god...oh my god..." his hips weakly rolled up to milk his cock inside of Kevin, sweat dripping from his forehead,
"I think..fuck..you're the one—"
Reggie huffed weakly, breathlessly into Kevin's hair, giving him a small kiss to his forehead, "you came first. You're the one with a crush on me.”
Kevin melted at the kiss—small, soft, and so unexpected from someone like Reggie that it short-circuited his brain.
His whole body was still humming with aftershocks, but now? Now he just... cuddled. Like a dumb fish.
He didn’t argue back about the crush thing—not yet. Not when Reggie’s lips were on his forehead and they were both sweaty and sticky and tangled together in a way that felt weirdly... intimate.
Instead? Kevin nuzzled closer into him with a quiet sigh—too tired to be smug for once.
(And maybe… just maybe… secretly happy.)
But of course—because this was Kevin Moskowitz—the moment couldn't last long before he opened his stupid mouth again: