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Your time as a field medic working for Talon had been interesting to say the least. You’d patched up foot soldiers, high ranking officers, and more than a few people with seemingly superhuman abilities. You were experienced, climbing the ranks easily, your ability to remain calm under pressure and your penchant for darting in to assist when other medics hesitated contributing heavily to your success.
The last month had been a flurry of battles, one after another, wearing you and the rest of your squad thin.
Today was no exception.
You emerged cautiously from a war-worn building, observing your surroundings for a moment before continuing on your way. You listened to the nearby commotion, observed the debris that littered the ground and tried to remember which of Talon’s heavy hitters had come along for the battle. When you turned the corner and saw your answer, you had your ‘aha’ moment, the large amount of rubble that lined the streets suddenly making sense.
You knew the man -well…knew of him. Call sign Sigma, once a famous hotshot astrophysicist with a bright future, now a weapon of destruction working under Talon. You heard he was a demon on the battlefield, ruthless, like a switch would flip and his personality would change completely. There were whispers about him around Talon HQ, of his past and of his abilities, and you personally knew a few of your own squad mates that kept their distance, afraid to get too close.
And when you saw the rock fall from across the way and watched as the man seemed to falter in the air and lose his balance, you began to make your way towards him quickly. You kept close to the ground as you hustled in his direction, ducking your head low as you moved from cover to cover, cautious but quick.
You felt the effects of his abilities almost immediately as you approached the alcove he had landed in, felt first as your hair lifted from the nape of your neck and then the weightlessness of your body as your feet left the ground. You reached out for him, for an anchor, the only stable monument in a sea of floating debris.
The lack of gravity was a mild inconvenience at worst but an odd feeling nonetheless, like a roller coaster plummeting down the track. You shoved aside a piece of debris as it floated towards you, watching with great interest as it kept going, finally seeming to cross some invisible line and then drop to the ground.
You popped open the man’s visor with ease, pleased when he looked up at you, bleary eyed but conscious. His cheeks were flushed from the heat, his body twisting, elbows bent as he fought to right himself.
“Hi! Hold still please!” You said, the picture of sunshine even as you fought to ignore the way your stomach was flipping. “You were hit by some falling debris. Can you control your abilities right now?”
“I, erm…I…”
“No problem,” you chirped in response, reaching out to hook your fingers under the edge of his armor to steady yourself. From there you straddled him, knees firmly pressed into his sides as you held yourself in place. “My apologies for the positioning,” you said. “I’m afraid there’s not much else I can do to steady myself right now.”
The large man looked up at you, to your knees at his hips then to your face, saying nothing as you worked to stay anchored. He blinked at you slowly, seeming to process the situation.
Maybe that rock had really hit him hard, you mused before continuing.
“Just gonna start by doing a quick exam of your neck before we begin the full evaluation. It looked like that rock hit you pretty hard so I’d like to be sure you don’t have a concussion before I send you on your way. Alright?”
You placed your thumbs to your forefingers, making the shape of a rectangle and then slowly expanding it as you snapped a small x-ray of his throat with your medic gloves. You examined the hard light image for a moment, humming gently before determining that everything was as it should be.
You reached out, hands placed on either side of his face as you gently turned his head first one way and then the other. “Everything looks fine with your neck. Any pain?”
“N-no…”
“Nausea?”
“No.”
“Excellent.” You pulled out your pen light, clicking it on and positioning it away from the man’s face. “Follow the light with your eyes, please.”
You moved the flashlight from his left side to his right, pleased when his eyes slid easily to follow the light.
“Guess that helmet is good for more than just making you look cool, huh, big man?” You grinned, tapping the side of his protective headgear for emphasis. “Now, everything looks good, but I’d recommend waiting here until you regain complete control of your abilities before heading out.” You paused, looking at the man though he seemed to be avoiding your eyes, “for your safety, of course”
“Of course…” he echoed, his voice so quiet you almost couldn’t hear him. His cheeks were more flushed now than before, you noticed, puzzling when you considered the cool air from his lifted visor should have been a much welcome relief.
“And you’re sure you’re feeling alright?” You asked again, unsure now as you caught sight of his pupils, blown wide, eyes turned staunchly away. “The battlefield can be tough and there’s no shame-“
“Everything is fine,” he snapped, effectively cutting you off.
You readjusted, anchoring yourself by grabbing onto him once more, knees loosening and tightening again at his hips to hold yourself in place. “Fine,” you aquesed, shrugging with one hand, the other still gripping the man’s armor as you steadied yourself. “But if you keel over, that’s not on me.”
“Of course,” he replied. He still wouldn’t meet your eyes.
You huffed. A part of you wondered why you were suddenly so annoyed that he wasn’t looking you in the eyes. You had heard the rumors that floated around, of his eccentricities and odd behaviors, but he met your eyes so easily before. Was he hiding something important? Was he keeping something from you that could improve his care?
You shifted backwards, mulling the issue over when you felt a strange hardness at your backside.
And then suddenly everything from his snappy mood to his eye contact avoidance made sense.
“Oh, that’s-” you laughed, amused, all irritation out the window now as you made sense of the man’s predicament. “Sorry about that.” You loosened your knees from around his hips, allowing yourself to lift into the air. “Float me out?”
His face was beet red now as the humiliation seemed to set in. “Pardon?” He stuttered.
“Or set me back on my feet. Your call.”
At last he seemed to make the connection, realizing what you were asking and giving a sharp nod of his head. “Right, yes, of course.”
The solid earth under your boots was a welcome change. You looked away from him politely, your back to him as you gave him as much privacy possible given the confined space. You cleared your own throat, continuing to speak in hopes of giving an air of normalcy. “Like I said, give it a while before you head back out,” you said.
And with that bit of advice, you were gone, leaving the safety of the alcove and heading back out in search of others that may need help.
It was nearly a week later when you finally saw the man again, standing patiently outside of the work out room like he was waiting for someone.
“Ah, good evening!” He said brightly, moving off the wall to greet you as you approached. “I was told I could find you here.”
It was different to see him out of his armor and in sweatpants. He was still tall, that much didn’t change, but he seemed much less imposing, more relaxed.
“You were looking for me?”
“I hope you don’t find it too intrusive that I asked around,” he replied, almost sheepish. “I merely wanted to thank you for your assistance in the field.”
“Oh,” you said. “I appreciate that but I was just doing my job.”
“Of course, of course, nevertheless I am grateful,” he replied cheerily, before seeming to trail off. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, neither of you speaking before finally he cleared his throat. “That said, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I’m-“
“Doctor de Kuiper, right? I uh, they told us a bit about you during a briefing a while back.”
“They?”
“The higher ups, I mean,” you clarified. “We weren’t told much; your name and a basic rundown of your abilities. You know, bare bones.”
“Ah, I see,” he said, his thumb and forefinger to his chin as if pondering something.
You waited patiently for a moment, allowing him time to gather his thoughts before interjecting. “Is there something else I can help you with, Doctor?” You asked finally.
“Yes, of course, I, erm, wanted to apologize as well,” he began awkwardly, eyes darting away. “For what happened in the field, when you were tending to my wounds. My behavior was…quite uncouth.”
“Uncouth isn’t exactly the word I would have used,” you replied, your smile small and polite. “I imagine your abilities can be very difficult to control at times! It wasn’t an inconvenience at all.”
“Ah, no, I meant,” he stuttered, bringing one fist to his mouth awkwardly to clear his throat. “When you…when I…”
“Oh, that ,” you chuckled, giving a gentle dismissive wave. “Listen, don’t even worry about it. There were a lot of factors at play. As far as I’m concerned, you were a perfect gentleman.”
You wondered why he was even apologizing, whether he was a glutton for embarrassment or just that awkward. Had your roles been reversed, you were confident that nothing short of torture could get you to bring it up in conversation. And yet here he was apologizing to you face to face, embarrassed but determined, the picture of propriety.
You pivoted on your foot, your body rotating around his until your back faced the entrance to the work out room. You wondered briefly if the conversation had run it’s course, if there was more to say and how you could break away to exercise otherwise without seeming rude. Doctor de Kuiper seemed like a lovely man, polite and genuine, and you couldn’t deny that you found yourself intrigued by him.
This however had no effect on your already tight and stringently planned schedule.
“Tell me, would you…like to spar?”
That caught your attention.
“Spar?” You echoed.
“Yes, erm, I’ve heard word that you’re quite good at it. And it is important to form a good rapport with colleagues, is it not?”
“I didn’t take you for the sparring type, Doctor de Kuiper.”
“Making assumptions, are we?” He teased good naturedly. “And please, I ask that you call me Siebren,” he corrected gently. “I believe we are past the point where such formalities are in order.”
“Well, Siebren,” you said, testing the name in your mouth as you finally moved into the room. “I think sparring sounds like a great idea.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” he beamed, flashing you his widest smile yet. “While I will admit I am not entirely skilled in the subject, I am also not without practice.”
“Rules?” You asked.
“Rules?” He parroted back, confused as if he hadn’t considered the two of you would need any.
“Let’s just say that you’re welcome to use your abilities and I’m welcome to use my gloves. Sound fair?”
“Indeed it does,” he agreed, before adding as an afterthought, “though I can’t imagine I’ll have much use for my abilities in a friendly sparring session.”
You felt the corner of your mouth twitch at that but said nothing, pulling your gloves on and tugging them quickly into place. They were the same multi purpose gloves you wore on the battlefield, their many uses ranging from healing to disabling enemies to self defense.
“And please, I request that you do not hold back on behalf of my inexperience,” he said, arms above his head now as he stretched. “It is important to learn new techniques and counters if I am to improve.”
“I would never insult you by going easy on you.”
“Wonderful,” he replied. He widened his stance, seeming to ground himself, no doubt a helpful tip from someone else given his inexperience.
Not that it would make much of a difference.
“Begin.”
You sprang forward immediately, wrapping one hand around his calf and delivering an electric shock that had his knees buckling under him.
You grinned.
Easy prey
From there you moved quickly, leaping onto him and planting one hand on his collar bone, forcing his upper body easily to the ground. You threw one leg over his chest -the position reminiscent of your first meeting in the field- then took advantage of his surprise to pin both of his arms easily under your knees.
He was much bigger than you, you knew, knew he could easily push you off if he wanted, could even float you away with his abilities. Instead he stared up at you, cheeks flushed with exertion and lips parted softly in surprise, his eyes wide as if there’s no way he had anticipated this end result.
“I told you I wouldn’t be holding back,” you grinned, pleased. “Whoever told you I was good at sparring must have forgotten to mention the part where I do best against much larger opponents.”
“I, er…I suppose so…”
You reached behind yourself, grinning as you gave his thigh a playful pat. “What’s the matter?” You teased.
No one ever accused you of being a gracious winner.
“Come on, big man, round two.” You grinned, sliding backwards just far enough to get your feet under you…and just far enough to feel an unfamiliar hardness where none was before.
“Oh,” you said, a small exclamation of surprise, and then suddenly you were floating, arms flailing gracelessly as you struggled to right yourself in zero gravity.
He was on his feet in an instant, lifting himself quickly with his abilities. He angled his body away strategically, pointedly refusing to meet your eyes as he cleared his throat awkwardly. “My apologies, but I’m afraid I must be going,” he said, dignified in his hasty retreat as he moved hurriedly for the door.
You swiped out at the man uselessly, knowing you couldn’t reach him from your airborne position but compelled to try. “Siebren, listen, it’s fine-“ you tried to say, interrupted by the sound of the door sliding shut behind him and then the deafening silence that followed.
You huffed, annoyed as you floated to the ground, landing softly on your hands and knees. You wondered if he was standing there just beyond the closed door, politely lowering you back to the sparring mat before he retreated fully.
It seemed the man had quite a hair trigger.
Another week passed with no sign of Siebren and you found yourself going about your business as usual as you and the rest of your squad prepared for the next mission.
The day of, the drop ship was a flurry of activity, of chattering squad mates checking in on one another and medics tending to wounds, the hustle and bustle a familiar comfort after the difficulties on the battlefield.
You seemed to spot each other at the same time, you from your spot in the crowd and he from his permanent vantage point where he levitated, nearly two heads above everyone else. As he made his way towards you, you watched as the crowd parted for him without thought, as if the group were making room subconsciously to let him pass. He popped the visor on his helmet as he approached, and your eyes were quickly drawn to the red slash above his eyebrow, the wound still fresh as the blood threatened to drip into his eye.
“You’re bleeding, Siebren.”
“I am aware,” he replied.
“Please, have a seat and let me take a look.”
Obligingly he sat, settling back in the seat, his posture stiff and unrelaxed. His battle gear was scuffed and scratched, riddled with pockmarks.
“Helmet off.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” he stammered. He detached his helmet and pulled it over his head with ease, setting it comfortably on one knee.
You noticed that his short hair was tousled, flicking upwards at the front and around the sides, adding an almost boyish aspect to his appearance. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. You know, after you ran away last time.”
“Ah, yes,” he answered, almost sheepish, as if he’d been anticipating for you to forget the matter. “I must apologize again.”
“How did this happen?”
“Pardon me?”
“The blood, Siebren. Why are you bleeding?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied. He seemed relieved, grateful that you were drawing attention from the aforementioned sparring incident. “I lifted my visor momentarily to get a clear view of the battlefield and I’m afraid I may have miscalculated.”
You hummed at this, pleased with the explanation though displeased with the wound itself. You leaned in close as you examined the cut above his eyebrow, balancing easily, one foot on the ground and your knee resting on the seat edge between his spread thighs. “It won’t scar, lucky you. A little bit of butterfly tape and a biotic disk and you’ll be 100% in no time.” You reached into the bag on your hip, unzipping it and then rifling around in it for a moment before coming out with the desired bandages.
You leaned forward again as you affixed the butterfly bandages, adjusting your stance so that your knee now pressed shamelessly against the man’s inner thigh.
You knew after the battle he’d likely be keyed up, his system filled with dwindling adrenaline, same as yours.
Was it wrong to provoke him? Was it so wrong to tease?
You knew your plan was risky, knew it could backfire in an instance leading to incredible awkwardness. Perhaps later you would balk at your own forwardness. But for now you could still feel the dwindling adrenaline from today's battle and you couldn’t deny that there was something you found incredibly attractive about a man that was so easily turned on.
“Why are you so tense?” You asked, hoping your voice sounded innocent enough that it didn’t tip him off. “You’re not hurting somewhere else, are you?”
He adjusted his helmet on his lap, eyes turned away sharply. You could see the faint hint of a blush creeping up his neck and rising to his face, pinkening his high cheekbones. He opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it before closing it again. “I assure you, everything is as it should be.”
“And, this?” You teased with a grin, leaning forward to grind your knee against his still-hardening clothed erection. “You think I wouldn’t notice this?”
His eyes widened. “That’s-“
“You gonna run away from me again?” You all but purred, leaning in closer. “Now's your chance.”
He seemed conflicted at this, like the part of him that wanted to escape and the part that wanted to stay were at odds with each other. “And if I stayed?” He asked, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“Maybe I could give you a hand…” You murmured, eyes half lidded now as you leaned in just a little closer. “Or maybe I’ll leave my knee right here so you can take care of it yourself. How does that sound?”
He gasped, jolting forward in his seat. “Please,” he begged. His cheeks were flushed, body taut, a coil wound so tight it threatened to snap. His voice sounded wrecked already, sweet music to your ears.
“Go on then,” you coaxed. “I’m waiting.”
The man gave a low groan as he rocked forward experimentally. His length was hard against your knee, his long fingers grasping at his thighs as if desperate to find something to hold on to. You felt as he rocked forward again, as if gaining more confidence, less an experimental thrust this time and much more solid, the force of it prompting you to reach out and steady yourself on the seat behind him.
He slid forward then, allowing his eyes to slip shut against the new found intensity, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you. He leaned forward in his seat, boldly, his lips finding your throat as he mouthed at the warm skin he found there. His body shuddered as you lifted one hand to his head, raking your nails through his short gray hair as he continued to grind against you.
You felt as your own body warmed, heart pounding in your chest now as he rocked against you. You were aware of a few people milling around you, their voices quieted by the rushing of blood in your ears as your entire existence seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.
But alas; it wasn’t just the two of you.
“Is he like, okay?” Came the voice from behind you, half concern and half curiosity.
The man forced himself to be still, groaning softly against your throat so low that only you could hear it. From behind you knew exactly what this looked like, a simple case of a soldier dozing on someone’s shoulder after a battle hard fought, something you could easily play in to.
“Oh, he’s fine,” you replied, hoping the redness of your cheeks wasn’t too visible as you turned your head to look at your squad mate. “Biotic disk just put him to sleep, is all. Just gonna give him another once over and then I’ll meet up with the rest of you, okay?”
“Okay!” Came the cheery reply.
You watched as they hurried off, taking a moment to collect yourself before turning again to face him. You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he began to mouth at your skin again. “Unbothered by interruptions, I see,” you remarked.
He inhaled sharply, one large hand reaching up to fist in the fabric of your shirt as he continued to work himself against you.
You began to feel his desperation as he moved, his ministrations much more sloppy than before. You tilted your head to one side, giving him better access to your throat as he panted against your skin.
“You’re doing so well for me, Siebren,” you murmured against his ear. “Are you close? Do you want to cum?”
The man gave a low groan against your throat, nodding, his hips jerking as you slid your knee closer.
“Come on,” you urged him breathlessly. “Cum for me.”
He came with a full body shudder, his body lurching forward with such force that it nearly knocked you from your feet. You knew he was strong, but still found yourself thrilled by it as you reached out to steady yourself on one of his broad shoulders.
You raked your nails across the back of his neck, holding him close as he came down from his high. You knew your own face was red, could feel the dampness between your legs at the wanton display the man made.
Beautiful.
As he pulled back to look at you, you were able to recall the reason you were tending to him in the first place, the angry red mark above his forehead stark against his skin. You reached into your side pouch, fumbling through the unseen items before finally coming out with the item you were looking for. “Here,” you said, presenting the biotic disk. “For your cut.”
“Ah,” he replied, seemingly awkward again now that the act was done. He looked down, seemed to realize his hand was still fisted in your shirt. Slowly he released you, politely smoothing the fabric back into place before opening his hand to accept the small disk. “Thank you…” he said, his voice so soft you could barely hear it. “For everything.”
You took in his still flushed appearance, his relaxed posture and his ruffled hair, all subtle evidence of what had transpired. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something for you. “Oh, I assure you, the pleasure was all mine,” you grinned, finally stepping away from the man to give him some space. You stretched, first one way and then the other, forcing yourself to unwind before you had to head back to the rest of your squad. “And Siebren?”
“Yes?” He replied.
“Find me anytime. We’ll do it again.”