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Using his hand, Ryland guides himself down corridor after corridor, heart beat pounding in his ears.
Fast, fast, quicker, quicker, move, move.
He can’t hear Simon’s footsteps sliding across the floor anymore, but he’s sure he’s close. It was incredible just how good his hearing was, not that he was enjoying that fact right about now.
Ryland turns a corner, panting. The lights are dimmed, he’s lost track of just where in the ship he is, not like it would matter if he did. Everything echoed in Mary, footsteps, breathing, the accidental ramming of one’s shoulder into a doorway because of a miscalculation in distance.
Pressing himself up against the nearby wall, he closes his eyes, straining himself to hear any slight bumps or crashes. He can’t seem to find one, was Simon always this quiet? Ryland didn’t think so, but then again he wasn’t normally running away from him either.
A few moments pass, just enough for his breathing to even and Ryland is sure he’s in the clear.
Lost him, lost him, lost him—
Then there’s a creaking from down the hall, the wrong piece of metal flooring stepped on, mixed with the soft pattering sounds of flesh on steel. In the dim light, he sees Simon looking up at him, eyes flashing red like a predator animal.
It’s intoxicating and horrifying all at once.
Ryland feels himself tense and gets ready to bolt again, only to look back and find the corridor empty. Truly, a less than stellar sight for him. His heart in his throat, he takes a few steps back.
No more creaking… did Simon leave?
He takes another step before breaking into a sprint.
But just as he passes through the next doorway, there’s a great weight on his back and he is sprawled out on the floor. “Should’ve been quicker.” Simon’s voice rumbles in his ear, making his face go red and his dick spring to life.
He struggles against him, trying to get out from under him, get back to running and hiding, but Simon isn’t letting that happen. With his right arm, he flips Ryland over. “Where do you think you’re going?” Ryland pants, trying to get his fingers into the floor grate, gain some leverage, but Simon’s hand has already wrapped up his wrists and pinned them to the floor.
Captured, taken, can’t move.
Move, move, move.
Chest quickly rising and falling, Simon ghosts over his neck, settling down to straddle his waist. Ryland can tell he wants to say something to him, but it’s lost as he looks him over. Pulling his hand back, Ryland finds himself frozen face-to-face with Simon. Larger, heavier, stronger, needing nothing more than his thighs to keep him pinned down—exactly where he wants him to be.
With his now free hand, he plays with the hem of Ryland’s shirt, his eyes every so often catching the light and flickering in the near dark.
Apparently having decided something, he pulls the shirt up over Ryland’s head and begins to trace out his collarbone. He jerks away at the touch to which Simon places a firm hand on the center of his chest, pushing him back into immobility. “Who said you could move?”
Glasses half off his face, Ryland swallows hard, Simon leaning over him, rocking into his groin with such precision it sends shock waves up his spine, body betraying him, he jerks again.
In response to his constant movement, Simon growls, bearing his teeth. Sharp, white, glistening with spit. The few especially jagged teeth that climb up his cheek bone click together. Ryland can’t help but shake at the sight, his abdomen slowly getting tighter and tighter as he tries to focus on anything but the pressure Simon has on his cock.
It’s quick, like a snake striking out at its prey, all hissing and spit. He moans, hands pressing into Simon’s chest as he teeth dig into his shoulder. The attempt to push him back is feeble, and the more he tries, the stronger Simon’s grip becomes.
Groaning, half way from pain, half way because it feels so good, Ryland attempts to back himself out of Simon’s grip. Planting his heels into the floor to get some leverage.
Move, move, move.
Simon grabs at his waist before he can scoot an inch out from under him, his fingers quick and deft at the task. His sweats are at his knees in a matter of seconds, Simon’s hand now resting on his thigh.
Ryland gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stares at Simon’s slit pupils, lazily trailing over him, looking up at his worried features, eyebrows knit together, sweat bedding down his forehead.
The sight elicits a rumble at the back of Simon’s throat, making Ryland jolt, his friction seeking cock making him move when he doesn’t mean to. In response, Simon strengthens his grip on Ryland’s thigh to the point of possible bruising.
Whining, Ryland attempts to move away again, struggling his way up, get through the door. Simon just clamps his thighs down harder. “Guh—” is what Ryland manages to choke out as Simon gives one last firm jaw clench before moving back from his shoulder. Pain prickles at him, but is drowned out by how Simon licks his blood from his lips, tongue long, whipping across his mouth.
Not letting Ryland get used to the sight, Simon tosses his own shirt to the side and goes back down, tongue circling Ryland’s hardened nipples, the slight rock in his hips returning. His arm remains planted on his thigh, squeezing it, moving up inch by tortuous inch until it’s at the edge of his boxer leg.
Ryland lets out a whimper, his body thoroughly toyed with and wanting to escape. Simon just looks up at him, chin resting on his diagram, and chuckles, a silent: No. I’m not quite done yet.
Roughly grinding into his groin, Ryland gasps, renewing his attempts at somehow flailing his way out of Simon’s strong grip. “Gods, you’re fucking soaking.” Ryland looks down through his skewed glasses, to find Simon looking at the growing wet spot on his tented boxers, his hand finally having gone from his thigh onto his lower stomach.
Ryland bucks his hips up, getting him nearly out from underneath Simon’s grip. Simon doesn’t seem to notice as he twirls the hair leading down to his dick between his fingers. His warm hand ghosting over his weeping cock and Ryland is free again, bolting down the hall.
Behind him, he hears Simon growl, sending a shock wave of arousal into his already pleading groin.
Go, go, go.
The lights above him flicker as he reaches an intersection. Forwards and right, to his left a window into the vast expanse of space, the stars seeming to slowly move past, through Ryland knows, logically, Mary is going faster than that.
In his moment of absent-minded pondering, he sees Simon walk through the right passage, his cargo pants straining from his growing erection. His teeth chatter again, eyes dilated and focused on the blonde standing before him. “You need to stop running, Ryland.” The blonde takes a step back, knocking into the window.
No where to go, no running, no, no, no.
His gaze flicks to the remaining passageway. Could he make it? He looks back up at Simon, his chest puffed out, drool leaking from between his teeth, the low rumble of desire echoing throughout the silent ship.
Ryland takes his chances.
He always seems to forget how fast Simon is though.
Back on his stomach, glasses skittering down the hallway, Simon curls over him, humping his ass as he pants out, “I swear to the fucking gods—” Ryland keens, pressing himself into the metal flooring. His chest hurts from where he was tossed, but by God if Simon’s dick rubbing up against his ass didn’t make up for that.
Pulling back, Simon grabs his legs and drags him into the light of the window. “You’re gonna pay for that.” He says, looking over his shoulder, hair wild and plastered to his forehead. “I am going to fuck you in half.”
Ryland chokes on his spit, if he cums before Simon has a chance to ravage him, he thinks he’d just have to die of embarrassment.
So with the game still on, he kicks against Simon’s steady hold, only earning him a dark look as Simon bites out towards him, making a sound akin to a bark, and tosses him in front of the window. Ryland scrambles to sit up against the wall, watching as Simon calmly undoes his pants.
Dropping to the floor, he kicks them off to the side. Ryland presses up further into the wall, as if that will get him further away from Simon, from how it makes him feel to see Simon’s boxers soaked and straining for him.
Making another barking like sound, Simon gets on all fours and crawls up to Ryland in the starlight.
Face to face with his prey, he holds him up against the wall by placing his forearm across Rylands chest.
For a moment, everything is still. Ryland’s breath comes quickly, not attempting to hide how his fingers twitch the closer Simon gets to his face, how he shakes as Simon puts his nose to his neck to breathe him in.
“Fuck.” Simon whispers, lapping at the bite mark he left, blood just starting to crust over. He moves back, though he keeps a firm eye on Ryland for any more escape attempts, and puts his hand on Ryland’s boxers. Feeling it twitch under his palm, he loses a fraction of his composure, tongue sliding out from between his teeth, licking at the spit accumulating around his lips. “Fuck.”
Ryland watches as Simon swallows down the moan just beginning to make its way up his throat and grabs at his erection. Ryland gasps, his hands flying up to Simon's shoulders. He gives them a weak push, body going mushy at his touch, his warm hand wandering beneath his waistband, pulling his weeping, angrily red cock free from its confines.
Simon inhales deeply, aiming to slow the heavy, quick breaths forcing their way out of his lungs. “Fuck.” He wraps Ryland in his hand, drawing up his shaft, twisting as he goes, making Ryland dig his finger nails into his back and utter wet choking sounds. “You like that?” He grumbles, pressing his thumb pad against his head, rubbing until Ryland lets out a strangled cry, closing his eyes and turning head away.
“Nope.” Simon lets go of his member, moving ever closer to Ryland’s face, enough that he is sure he can feel his breath on his mouth. “Look at me.”
Ryland shakes his head, mouth half open. Simon rolls his eyes and grabs Ryland by his chin, forcing his closed eyes to level with his own. “Open em.” Ryland whines, his dick twitching untouched, but keeps his eyes shut, almost like he’s embarrassed. “Open your eyes, Ryland.”
Simon decides to try another tactic.
Opening his own mouth, he whips his tongue out and drags it along Ryland's bottom lip, but he remains firm. Impatient with not getting the reaction he wants, Simon smashes his mouth into Rylands, his lips moving harshly, tongue sliding across Rylands teeth and down his throat.
Now, he opens his eyes.
Simon grins, dragging Ryland into his lap, relishing in the weak moans and feeble attempts to get up and go. Taking back control, Simon slips his arm around his waist and presses him back into the floor.
Back on the ground, Rylands wraps his around Simon’s back, kicking and pushing.
It takes only a moment for Simon to exploit the opening.
Steadying himself by planting his arm beside Rylands head, he moves against the other man’s pleading groin. Ryland moans, gagging and fighting against the tongue pressing into the back of his throat, making him want to roll his eyes back and just stop moving.
Shakily humming, pleasure growing in his abdomen, Simon pulls back, “good boy.” Ryland arches his back, cock bouncing on his stomach, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.
“Hm.” Simon lifts Rylands ass off the floor and pulls his boxers the rest of the way off, haphazardly tossing them over his shoulder. “There we go.” Flipping Ryland onto his stomach, he pulls his ass up to his chest so he can’t touch himself, and pulls his shaking legs apart. “You run again, you aren’t cumming for the rest of the week.” To make his point, he squeezes and pulls at his weeping member. “I fucking swear it, if you run again, Ryland.”
He presses his mouth into his lower back, teeth leaving small cuts where he drags his mouth as he talks, “I am going to make you regret it. I’m going to make you fucking regret it. I promise you.”
Ryland shakes, the promise embedding itself deep in his head.
No more running, no, no, no. Regret, regret.
Taking his hip again, Simon lines himself up with Ryland’s prepped ass, his cock already slick and dripping onto the floor. “You try to leave again,” he growls, his tip pressing into Rylands ass, “I’m going to fuck you until I cum, and I am going to make sure you don’t.” Ryland’s walls tighten around Simon’s girthy dick, “you understand me?”
Ryland presses his forehead into the floor, only for Simon to grab him by his hair and pull his head back up. “I asked if you understood me.”
“I understand.” He says, voice as steady as he can make it as Simon fills him up just how he likes it.
Letting go of his hair, Simon takes hold of his ass, and slams the rest of the way into him, his thighs slamming into his ass. “Good.”
Ryland shrieks, his cock spasming, a small amount of cum rammed out of him. “Hnnk… Simon…” attempting to look back is immediately stopped as Simon pulls nearly all the way out before crashing right back into him. “Shit!”
Simon whimpers, keeping hold of Ryland to make himself steady. He can feel his dick throbbing inside of Ryland, perfectly shaped to him, squeezing him at all the right times. “Oh gods…” he mutters, shaking his head to get the hair out of his face, his body trembling as he feels the tell-tale signs of Ryland’s incoming orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Nails clawing at the smooth flooring, Ryland lets out a strangled moan, Simon hitting his prostate over and over, sounds devolving into cries of arousal and filthy whines.
Control yourself. Simon repeated in his head, but it got harder and harder to keep the mantra going as Ryland threw himself back in an attempt for Simon to go deeper, fuck him faster, harder.
Fuck it.
Curling over Ryland’s quivering frame like a feral dog, he wraps his arm under Rylands, grounding himself in the grasp he has on his shoulder. He thrusts into him short and rough, his teeth chattering with a mix of needy Ryland, Ryland, Ryland escaping his lips. “You’re so good, you feel so good— fuck.” He grinds into Ryland with each slap of flesh on flesh, his cock needy, his slick pouring out of Rylands ass. “You’re not gonna,” Simon gulps down as much air as he can, his voice betraying him as he tries to keep the pathetic whimpering out of his words, “you’re not gonna try running again, are you?”
Ryland yowls, his mouth open in an attempt to let in more air as Simon fucks it out of him. “No, no more running. No—” Simon moves his hand to his throat, playing with the soft expanse, letting his fingers feel out the vibrations of Rylands moans. “Shit.”
“You wanna cum for me?” His voice gets high as his legs begin to shake, want building to a breaking point. “Since you’re not gonna try and run,” he heaves an unsteady breath into Ryland's back, his name lingering in the heavy panting, “you wanna cum?”
Ryland groans, pressing himself further up against Simon in an attempt to feel his hilt flush with his ass as he slams into his prostate. He nods, humming against Simon’s calloused hand. “Please. Please, please, please.”
Gently squeezing his throat, he bites back down on the mark he gave Ryland earlier. Ecstasy fills him as he feels Ryland’s orgasm course through his body—stiff for a long moment before the flood gates open and his thighs begin shaking, his walls clenching down on Simon.
As the last bit of cum leaks down his shaft, cock going limp, Simon picks up his pace once more, a numb intoxicating feeling running up his shoulder. “Simon.” Ryland breathes, overstimulated as his cock begins to harden again. “Simon.”
Biting down harder, Ryland screams out his name, dragging his hand back to grab his own cock, fucking his own hand, waiting for Simon to cum.
Close, close, close—
Simon keeps up his pace until he feels Ryland cum again, throwing him over the edge. With a long whine, he lets go of his shoulder and pulls him close, his dick emptying out.
Evening his breathing, Simon goes to stand, pull himself from Ryland (as much as that pained him), and get paper towels to clean up the mess they made. Instead, Ryland grabs his arm and pulls him back down, shaking his head.
“You do realize if I stay here any longer,” Simon asks, playing with the hair on Rylands stomach, “I’m going to be in your ass for the next twenty minutes, right?”
Ryland groans, waiting for Simon’s cock to grow the knot at its base. “That’s the idea. You did catch me and all.”
Simon snorts, unable to hold himself back from humping Ryland as they lay connected. He groans, cock still twitching, “it’s not often you let me do this.”
Putting his face in the croak of his arm, he clamps his legs together in an attempt to stop another oncoming erection. “If I did, I’d never leave the bed.”
Growling in response, Simon kisses his shoulder. “You have fun?”
Ryland laughs, attempting to ignore the fact that he is utterly failing at stopping the re-hardening of his dick. “Tons.”
“Happy to hear it.” Simon nuzzles into his neck, before suddenly pulling back. “Oh my gods. Uh, Rocky can’t see that I bit you right?”
Ryland snorts, stretching back into Simon, “no.”
Shiver running down his spine, he puts his face back into his neck, “oh thank the gods.”
“So—” Ryland looks back, a mischievous look on his face, “if you perhaps wanted to dig your teeth into my neck and jack me off while your dick goes down, I would not be opposed.”
Like it’s his first time having sex with Ryland, an excited red overcomes his face and Simon grins.